Page 87 of How to Ruin a Rake

The gates were open, and there didn’t appear to be anyone inhabiting the gatehouse. They progressed up a long drive lined with elm trees and came under an arch into a graveled circular feature in front of the house. The house was built of the local honey-colored Bath stone and had a central front door flanked by four windows on each side. It appeared to have four stories, and what she presumed were the attic windows were set behind a parapet on the roof.

The carriage drew to a stop in front of an entrance that sat above a set of wide steps and a pillared porch. Allegra didn’t wait for Max to help her out but descended by herself.

It was surprisingly quiet after the hectic noise of London. Birds sang, and the wind whispered through the trees. From what Allegra could see, the house sat within formal gardens to the front and rear. There was a second arch to the left that she guessed led to the stables. Pastureland stretched from the gardens to the horizon.

Max stood looking at the fountain, which was not currently working. He joined her and looked up at the front door, frowning. It desperately needed a coat of paint.

“Where are the staff?” he asked. “They should be expecting us. I sent them a message yesterday.”

Bennet called down from the box, “Shall I take the carriage around to the stables, my lord?”

“Be my guest,” Max said. “And please make yourself known to the staff in the house when you’ve settled the horses. You deserve a good meal and a bed to sleep in.”

Bennet nodded, clicked to the horses, and drove through the archway, leaving Max and Allegra in the unsettling silence.

“Should we knock?” Allegra suggested. “Perhaps they are too busy preparing for our arrival to have noticed the carriage.”

Max didn’t look convinced, but he walked up to the door, raised the knocker, and gave it a good thump. Nothing happened. Allegra checked the windows, but no one leaned out to welcome them.

“Maybe there is an entrance at the back,” Allegra said.

“We shouldn’t have to enter our new home for the first time through the servants’ quarters,” Max said in a tone Allegra had never heard from him before.

“Well, it’s surely better than standing here all day.” Allegra started walking, following the carriage through the archway.

After a moment, Max followed her, but he didn’t look pleased. To Allegra’s relief, it did appear that Bennet had not only found the stables but someone to help him with the horses, which meant the property wasn’t completely deserted. She spied a back door slightly ajar and headed across the cobbled inner courtyard toward it.

It was dark inside, but Allegra could hear voices. She walked along a short corridor and noted a scullery, a laundry, and the entrance to a cellar. Soon, she found herself in the kitchen. Three people startled as she came in.

“Good afternoon,” Allegra said.

The man sitting at the table stared at her. “Who the devil are you?”

Max’s hand came down hard on her shoulder. “You are speaking to the Marchioness of Blanchard. Who in damnation are you?”

CHAPTER 17

The man’s mouth gaped open as he stared at Max. “Bloody hell.”

“I’ll repeat my question. Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” Max asked in an arctic tone that rivalled his father.

“I’m the duke’s land agent, Augustus Cobbins.” He stared at Max. “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming, sir? We would’ve been more prepared-like.”

The woman who’d been seated next to Cobbins stood and bobbed a curtsy. “I’m Mrs. Cobbins, the housekeeper, and this is Mrs. Smith, our cook.”

“Have my servants arrived?” Max asked Mrs. Cobbins.

“No, sir, or else we would’ve known you were coming.”

“Is there anyone working in the stables?”

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Cobbins said.

“Good, we require sustenance, and Mrs. Cobbins, perhaps you will escort my wife to our suite.”

“Nothing’s been prepared, sir,” Mrs. Cobbins stammered. “If you’d be so good as to wait—”

“Perhaps the marchioness and I should have a look at the state of the house ourselves while Mrs. Smith makes us some tea,” Max said.