“And just who would be asking?”
How like Alano to have found the most annoying young man in London. Douglas bit back his irritation, and answered, “Your employer.”
“Sir,” the young man said, his attitude shifting immediately, “I am Paulson, and I believe Mr. Alano is in the wine cellar.”
Mr. Alano? Douglas shook his head as he entered thehouse, veered to the right, and angled himself between two stacks of crates.
“Have we any footmen?” he asked. “Or stableboys, for that matter?”
“Two men were hired today, sir,” the young man replied. “I do not believe they begin work until tomorrow.”
“Then you will do, Paulson,” Douglas said, pointing to a long crate beside the door, “I need this crate moved to one of the wagons in the stable. Be mindful of it. There are a variety of flasks and beakers from Italy inside. I would hate for them to be broken.”
“You wish me to carry this to a wagon, sir?”
“I do,” Douglas said. He looked around the room, now more a storeroom than a parlor. He was looking for one crate in particular, and he finally found it, and made his way to the other side of the room.
“Sir, I was hired for my knowledge of how a gentleman’s household should be run, not for general labor.”
Douglas moved out from behind a stack of crates.
“I’m not certain what Mr. Alano told you,” he said, “but this is not a large establishment. Each member of the staff will be expected to turn a hand to anything that needs doing. I cannot abide laziness, Paulson. Nor will I pay for it.”
“Sir.”
Paulson didn’t look happy, but Douglas was satisfied that he would do as told. He directed the young man to six more crates.
“Move these as well,” he said, ignoring Paulson’s petulant expression. “And use the same caution, please.”
Douglas found the wine cellar simply by following the noise. Above the hammering sounds, Alano was swearing, and there was nothing quite as colorfulas his friend’s torrent of profanity uttered in a dozen languages.
He leaned against the railing at the bottom of the steps, amused by the spectacle in front of him. Arrayed in a circle were the dozen or so casks of wine Douglas had purchased in Spain. Two or three candles were stuck in empty bottles and served as illumination. In the center of the casks, seated on a stool with a curious contraption strapped to his knee, was Alano. Despite the fact that his hair was white, his dark-complexioned face was curiously unlined. His teeth, on those occasions when he deigned to smile, were as white as his hair. The clue to Alano’s temperament lay in his brown eyes, however, eyes that flashed with emotion more often than not.
“Well, lad,” Alano said, in a thick Spanish accent, an oddity given that his name was McDonough. His great-grandfather had emigrated to Spain, and begun a dynasty that had prospered. “How did it go? Did the duke agree?”
“I have an investment of sorts,” Douglas said, moving through the barrels. “Not money, but marriage.”
Alano’s look held equal parts disbelief and surprise.
“Marriage?”
“To the daughter of a man who has little liking for Scotland or its inhabitants. It seems that my intended bride’s mother is Scottish, and he seems to dislike all of us.”
“Start from the beginning, lad. I’ve the feeling you’ve left out a great deal.”
Douglas began from the moment he’d entered the Duke of Herridge’s home, up until he’d been escorted to the door by Simons, the majordomo.
“You can’t think to go through with it.” Alano said, when he’d finished. “There are many other men who’ve expressed an interest in your discovery, lad. I doubt any of them will force marriage on you.”
Douglas sat down on one of the barrels. “Perhaps it’s time I married.”
Alano put the bottle down and stared at Douglas. “Is she all that rich?”
Douglas smiled. “I have an idea that the Duke of Herridge doesn’t have five farthings to rub together. This marriage is his way of saving face and still acquiring an interest in my discovery.”
“Is she all that beautiful, then?”
He could see Sarah before him as if she’d stepped into the room. “Sheislovely,” he said, unaware that his voice had softened. “She has black hair and soft gray eyes, and a full mouth. But there’s something more to her than just being beautiful. She’s brave, and loyal, and loving. Her mother is ill, and you can hear the heartbreak in her voice when she speaks of her. She’s frightened of her father; she flinched every time he moved, but she still stood there and defied him.”
