He broke the seal without further ado.
Langford,
In a fortnight, my curricle must win a race. I realize I am scarcely giving an hour’s notice, but please let my man know if you can pay my carriage house a visit this afternoon at four o’clock for a quick inspection of the vehicle.
Colehaven
“Please.” That was another way Colehaven was different from other peers. His Grace never failed to treat Giles as though a coach smith’s time was just as valuable as his own.
“Of course.” Giles refolded the letter. “Please let His Grace know I will present myself at his carriage house by four o’clock as requested.”
“Right away.” Harris disappeared without delay.
Giles turned back toward his smithy and paused. His journeymen and their studious apprentices were busy at their posts. Colehaven was one of their most valued clients. Since Giles was not needed in the smithy at the moment, was there any reason to make His Grace wait?
Bunyan, the duke’s stablemaster, was a jolly, friendly fellow, and had been an associate of Giles’s father long before the current duke had inherited the title. It would be splendid to see the irreverent old codger again.
In the interest of speed, Giles took a horse rather than a carriage, and made his way to Grosvenor Square. He tied his horse to a post along the narrow cobblestone lane behind the town house and headed toward the open carriage doors at the rear.
“Good afternoon,” he called out as he approached.
Although no one came to greet him, the sound of scurrying feet indicated his presence had caused some sort of stir.
“Are you certain?” whispered a youthful voice from behind the closest carriage.
“Positive,” an excited voice whispered back. “I swear it’s the Curricle King. He’s been here before.”
Giles hid his grin and pretended he hadn’t overheard. “Good afternoon, lads. Is Bunyan about?”
Three boys stepped out from behind the carriage with flushed cheeks and wide eyes.
“B-Bunyan?” stammered one.
“We expect ’im in an hour,” said the other.
So much for offering prompt service by arriving early to his appointment. Now that Giles was here, however, going home just to turn around and come back would be a ridiculous waste of his time. He might as well glance over the carriage in order to have his report ready for Bunyan when the man arrived at four.
“I’m here to inspect the curricle,” he informed the stable boys. “Do you mind if I get started?”
The lads exchanged doubtful looks.
Belatedly, Giles recalled that Colehaven was unusually fussy about meetings being held at precisely their appointed hour. An odd trait, given that half the ton were barely rising from slumber at three in the afternoon, much less worrying about keeping appointments to the very minute.
“The c-curricle?” asked one of the lads. “Not the coach?”
“The curricle,” Giles assured him, and pointed. “That one.”
Yet the wide-eyed stable boys remained positioned between him and the ducal carriages, as if they weren’t certain whether to beg for the Curricle King’s autograph or bar him from entry.
Of the two outcomes, the latter would be the most surprising. This was not Giles’s first visit. He could see the deuced curricle from here and had been summoned to work on it. What the devil was the problem?
“It’ll only be a moment,” he promised the stable boys. “I’ll just have a quick once-over, to gauge whether the vehicle requires more than a routine safety inspection.”
Aharrumphsounded from elsewhere in the mews.
Giles glanced about in surprise, but saw no one other than the stable boys. He frowned. The strange sound must have been a gust of wind playing tricks.
He took a step in the direction of the duke’s curricle.
