town for a few days. It would give them both much-needed space and time to cool off.
And he needed a cool head to deal with this other business. A frown crossed his eyes. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Would Ned have sent such a sensitive document to Emma?
He climbed the steps to the house where he had his lodgings, and the door was opened before he could reach for the knocker. “Your portmanteau is packed, Lord Alasdair. The post chaise should be here any minute.” His manservant stepped aside to allow his master entrance to the hallway.
“Good. Thank you, Cranham. Ill leave within the half hour.” Alasdair’s apartments were on the ground floor, and as he reached his own front door a step sounded on the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded courteously at the man descending the stairs. He didn’t know him but guessed he must have taken the suite of rooms above his own, which had been empty for several weeks.
“Good morning. Am I addressing Lord Alasdair Chase?” The man spoke pleasantly and came forward with an open smile and hand outstretched. “I understand that we’re to be neighbors. I have taken theapartments above yours.” He shook hands. “Allow me to present myself. Paul Denis at your service.” He pronounced the name in the French manner, not sounding the final s.
“Mr. Denis.” Alasdair inclined his head in polite acknowledgment. “I bid you welcome. Are you newly come to town?”
“Yes, I have lived until now in the country. My family came from France in ’91.1 was a small boy at the time.” He made a deprecating gesture. “We were able to bring nothing out of France, and my parents settled in Kent on the estate of an old friend of my father’s.”
“I see.” It was a common enough story. The revolution had brought a flood of poverty-stricken émigrés from France to England. There were many aristocratic émigrés living in reduced circumstances in the country, and a good many of them in London, some on the fringes of society but many moving in the best circles. Monsieur Denis had the air of one who intended to move in the best circles.
“Unfortunately I have to go out of town for a few days,” Alasdair said. “But on my return, I trust you’ll dine with me one evening.”
“I should be honored.” The Frenchman bowed and Alasdair with another polite smile went into his own lodging. He was perfectly willing to introduce Monsieur Denis to his own circle of friends if he seemed agreeable. Judging by the impeccable cut of his coat and the elegant fall of his cravat, his neighbor had already mastered some of the necessities for cutting a dash in London. He certainly didn’t give the impression of a country bumpkin.
Within the half hour, Alasdair was ensconced in a post chaise and four, driving out of London along theStaines Road, which would have interested Emma considerably, since it took him in the opposite direction from his family home in Lincolnshire.
He arrived at his destination having changed horses three times on the road, just as Lord and Lady Grantley were preparing to go into dinner at the un-fashionably early hour of five o’clock. Lady Grantley was not best pleased when their visitor was announced.
“What business could Alasdair have at Grantley Manor?” she demanded of her husband, whose eyes had lit up at the prospect of a male companion over the after-dinner port.
“A social call, my dear,” suggested the earl.
He was rewarded with a snort of disgust. “Don’t be a fool, Grantley. What are we to do with him?”
“We can’t be keeping him standing about in the hall, my dear.” Her husband was deeply shocked.
Her ladyship sighed. “Show Lord Alasdair into the library, Gossett. And you had better tell Cook to put dinner back half an hour.”
“Yes, m’lady.” The butler bowed and departed soundlessly.
“Go and see what he wants,” instructed the countess with an irritable flap of her hands in her
And he needed a cool head to deal with this other business. A frown crossed his eyes. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Would Ned have sent such a sensitive document to Emma?
He climbed the steps to the house where he had his lodgings, and the door was opened before he could reach for the knocker. “Your portmanteau is packed, Lord Alasdair. The post chaise should be here any minute.” His manservant stepped aside to allow his master entrance to the hallway.
“Good. Thank you, Cranham. Ill leave within the half hour.” Alasdair’s apartments were on the ground floor, and as he reached his own front door a step sounded on the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded courteously at the man descending the stairs. He didn’t know him but guessed he must have taken the suite of rooms above his own, which had been empty for several weeks.
“Good morning. Am I addressing Lord Alasdair Chase?” The man spoke pleasantly and came forward with an open smile and hand outstretched. “I understand that we’re to be neighbors. I have taken theapartments above yours.” He shook hands. “Allow me to present myself. Paul Denis at your service.” He pronounced the name in the French manner, not sounding the final s.
“Mr. Denis.” Alasdair inclined his head in polite acknowledgment. “I bid you welcome. Are you newly come to town?”
“Yes, I have lived until now in the country. My family came from France in ’91.1 was a small boy at the time.” He made a deprecating gesture. “We were able to bring nothing out of France, and my parents settled in Kent on the estate of an old friend of my father’s.”
“I see.” It was a common enough story. The revolution had brought a flood of poverty-stricken émigrés from France to England. There were many aristocratic émigrés living in reduced circumstances in the country, and a good many of them in London, some on the fringes of society but many moving in the best circles. Monsieur Denis had the air of one who intended to move in the best circles.
“Unfortunately I have to go out of town for a few days,” Alasdair said. “But on my return, I trust you’ll dine with me one evening.”
“I should be honored.” The Frenchman bowed and Alasdair with another polite smile went into his own lodging. He was perfectly willing to introduce Monsieur Denis to his own circle of friends if he seemed agreeable. Judging by the impeccable cut of his coat and the elegant fall of his cravat, his neighbor had already mastered some of the necessities for cutting a dash in London. He certainly didn’t give the impression of a country bumpkin.
Within the half hour, Alasdair was ensconced in a post chaise and four, driving out of London along theStaines Road, which would have interested Emma considerably, since it took him in the opposite direction from his family home in Lincolnshire.
He arrived at his destination having changed horses three times on the road, just as Lord and Lady Grantley were preparing to go into dinner at the un-fashionably early hour of five o’clock. Lady Grantley was not best pleased when their visitor was announced.
“What business could Alasdair have at Grantley Manor?” she demanded of her husband, whose eyes had lit up at the prospect of a male companion over the after-dinner port.
“A social call, my dear,” suggested the earl.
He was rewarded with a snort of disgust. “Don’t be a fool, Grantley. What are we to do with him?”
“We can’t be keeping him standing about in the hall, my dear.” Her husband was deeply shocked.
Her ladyship sighed. “Show Lord Alasdair into the library, Gossett. And you had better tell Cook to put dinner back half an hour.”
“Yes, m’lady.” The butler bowed and departed soundlessly.
“Go and see what he wants,” instructed the countess with an irritable flap of her hands in her
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