“Will they invite ye to dine with them? That would be useful.”
“I hope they will once I have Mrs Edgerton with me.” Michael grinned. “She will be here the day after tomorrow, if there are no delays on the road. I have suggested that her arrival should be impressive, and that she mention her cousin the earl at every opportunity. That should get us to his lordship’s table. What about you, Sandy? I know you prefer to masquerade as Mr Alexander, the plain Scotsman, but this is one occasion when your connection to Lord Saxby might be useful to us.”
“Aye, ye can mention Cam if ye like. We dinnae want them thinking we’re all upstart nobodies like you.”
He grinned, and Michael laughed easily. “No, it would never do if they thought you were nothing but a bank clerk.”
“But I’m not a bank clerk, not anymore,” Sandy said with dignity, shaking his golden head at Michael. “I’m cousin to a baron, and a gentleman — or near enough. And Neate? Is he to be yer valet this time?”
Michael sighed. “That works with Willerton-Forbes. He looks as if he needs a valet, but no one looks at me and wonders how my man gets my boots to shine.” He held up one foot, the boot liberally encased in mud and dust.
“No, they look at ye and wonder why ye carry a sword everywhere.”
“One never knows when one might need it,” he said with a grin.
“Have ye ever needed it?”
“That is not the point. It is all very well for a great tall fellow like you, Sandy Saxby, but when one is less than impressive in stature, one is inclined to be overlooked or dismissed asunimportant. I prefer people to take me seriously. Ah, my sustenance. Thank you, my good man.”
Tossing a coin to the potboy, he tucked in with relish, and all conversation was at an end until his appetite was sated.
There was no point in further delay, so they collected their mounts and made their way the short distance to the small village of Corland, and thence to Corland Castle.
Michael laughed when he saw it. “Luce will feel quite at home here. It is every bit as authentic a castle as her old home, although a shade more imposing, I grant you. These earls, they do like to pretend they live in an ancient monument, but with all the modern conveniences of bell pulls and cooking ranges. We need not fear to suffer too many privations if we stay here.”
“There was a real castle here once, all stone flags and draughts,” Sandy said. “Very medieval.”
“Naturally there was, for how else were the marauding Scots to be kept in their place?”
“The English built them to huddle in, being too cowardly to face the Scots,” said the Scotsman with a grin.
Michael grinned back, but refused to rise to the bait. “There is a wide bridge to the entrance. Is that a moat beneath it?”
“Only a pretend one. It’s dry, being access to the basement, but it looks good from here, I’ll grant ye.”
They rode slowly round the perimeter of the grounds by way of reconnoitre. Corland Castle was indeed an imposing building, a solidly square edifice of two stories in height, with a large circular tower at each corner. Two bridges crossed the void for the basement, one at the end of the carriage drive leading to the front door, and the other connecting a back door to a small terrace and the pleasure grounds beyond.
“No vines or trees that would allow admittance to the upper windows,” Michael murmured. “The drainpipes… maybe in broad daylight, but not at night, and that’s a nasty overhangbeneath the upper windows. Not easy. I shall check the windows, but I believe an intruder would have to come in through one of those doors, or else by way of the basement. Well, shall we go in?”
Since the question was rhetorical, he did not wait for an answer, wheeling his horse about and riding up to the front door. Grooms emerged immediately from somewhere below the bridge. Michael dismounted, strapped on his sword again, without which he felt naked, and strode across the bridge. He had no need to ring or knock, for the door opened as he approached and the butler and a footman emerged.
“Welcome to Corland Castle, Captain,” the butler said, before he could speak. “I am Simpson, the butler, and this is Wellum, the under-butler. His lordship is expecting you.” He eyed the sword warily. “Do you wish to leave your weapon here, sir?”
“Thank you, but I prefer to keep it with me.”
“Very good, sir. Please follow me.”
He led the way out of the entrance hall into a rather fine library, and then to a door set in the furthest corner. With a smart rat-a-tat-tat, he opened it and marched in.
“Captain Edgerton and Mr Alexander, my lord.”
Then, with a deep bow, he withdrew. Michael found himself in a small room, completely round, one of the corner towers. It was fitted out with a small desk in front of one of the two long windows, and a grouping of chairs cosily arranged round the fireplace, filled at this season with a painted screen. The earl was a man of not yet sixty, but showing the signs of an over-indulged life, who greeted them affably.
“Ah, come in, come in. Erm… the sword… are you expecting trouble, Captain?”
“I like to be prepared for all eventualities. My card, my lord. You are acquainted with my colleague, of course.”
“Yes, yes, Mr Alexander.”
