273. The Elusive Earl. Barbara Cartland

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my Lord, as did all of the household. We all have great faith in your Lordship’s judgement.”

      “Thank you.”

      Mr. Grotham left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

      The Earl realised that he was holding a letter in his hand and slit it open. He read it and then stood staring at it in surprise.

      Written in a very elegant and neat hand, in the centre of a plain sheet of paper, were the words,

      “If your Lordship would hear something very much to your advantage, will you be on the South side of the bridge over the Serpentine at nine o’clock tomorrow, Friday morning? It is of the utmost import.”

      ‘What the devil does this mean?’ the Earl asked himself.

      There was no signature and he thought perhaps it was a hoax.

      He had in the past often received letters from women who he did not know, but they had always signed their names and been very careful to ensure that their addresses were on the writing paper so that he could get in touch with them.

      But there was nothing with this note except for the bald message.

      He thought that it might perhaps be a method of publicising a new night haunt, but that was unlikely seeing that there was no address. The same applied to a letter that might have come from one of the pretty Cyprians who were always on the lookout for new clients.

      The Earl had on occasions been invited to parties by women he did not know. These had turned out to be either orgies or an assignation with a fair charmer who then expected to be heavily reimbursed for her favours.

      This letter could be neither of these things and perhaps, the Earl thought, it was in fact exactly what it purported to be – a message inviting him to a rendezvous where he might learn something to his advantage. Although what that could be he had no idea.

      There was no doubt that the handwriting was educated and the writing paper expensive. He rang the bell that stood on his desk and instantly the door was opened by a footman.

      “Send Barker to me,” the Earl ordered.

      A few seconds later his butler came into the room.

      “You wanted me, my Lord?”

      “Yes, Barker. Can you remember who brought this note?”

      He held out the envelope as he spoke.

      “Yes, my Lord,” the butler replied. “I was in the hall as a note had just been delivered for your Lordship by a groom wearing the livery of Lady Genevieve Rodney.”

      “And this one – ” the Earl enquired.

      “ – was brought to the door by a ragged small boy, my Lord. I was in fact surprised that the letter looked as it did, seeing who delivered it.”

      “Did you ask him where he came from?” the Earl enquired.

      He knew that Barker was extremely inquisitive and that little went on in the household of which he was not aware.

      “As it happened, my Lord,” Barker replied with dignity, “I thought it wise to ask the boy some questions.”

      “What did he tell you?” the Earl asked.

      “He informed me, my Lord, that a lady had given him sixpence to bring the letter to this house. He’s a boy who hangs around the square, my Lord, hoping for a chance of holding a horse or running a message.”

      “So that is all he told you?”

      “That’s all, my Lord.”

      The Earl told himself as he put the note down that it would be ridiculous to put himself out to meet some unknown person who wrote in such a manner and that if he did so he would undoubtedly find that it was a new method of touching him for a small loan.

      Then, as he rose from his desk, leaving Lady Genevieve’s letters unopened, he knew that however much he might jeer at himself for being so curious, he would undoubtedly be on the South side of the Serpentine bridge tomorrow morning at nine o’clock!

      *

      The Earl went to bed later than he had intended because he had become involved in a political argument at Devonshire House, which went on into the early hours of the morning.

      He was therefore somewhat disagreeable when he was woken from a deep sleep by his valet at his usual hour of eight o’clock.

      His bath was all prepared for him on the hearthrug in his bedroom in front of the fire. Because he disliked the water getting cold, the Earl resisted an inclination to lie back against his pillows and rose from his bed.

      Twenty minutes later he descended to the breakfast room to look with a jaundiced eye at the long row of silver dishes laid out on a side table.

      He inspected them and, telling Barker to help him to the kidneys cooked in cream, he sat down at the breakfast table.

      When the kidneys came, he waved them away and asked for a plain lamb chop.

      When he had eaten, he began to feel better and told himself that the reason he was not feeling in his usual good health was the fact that the rooms at Devonshire House had been over-heated and that the brandy supplied by the Duke had been of inferior quality.

      As he had told Lord Yaxley, he seldom drank to excess and, while he had not been in the slightest degree drunk last night, he had, however, sipped the brandy while they were talking until it was nearly dawn.

      He therefore had found it difficult to sleep when he eventually reached his bed and that, combined with the long drive back from Newmarket, had made him unusually fatigued.

      He decided that what he needed was fresh air and went out the front door to find that a black stallion that he had bought only the previous week at Tattersalls was awaiting him.

      Suddenly the Earl found that both his headache and his disagreeableness had dispersed in the spring sunshine.

      The horse was magnificent, there was no doubt about that.

      His muscles were rippling under his shiny black coat as he tossed his head and pranced about in a manner that told the Earl that he was an animal worth breaking in to his touch.

      Two grooms were striving to hold the stallion steady and, finding it impossible to keep their hold on him as the Earl swung himself into the saddle.

      As the animal bucked and reared to show his independence, it took the Earl a little while to get him under control.

      They set off down Piccadilly and had reached Hyde Park before the Earl knew with a sense of triumph that once again he was the Master.

      There was nothing the Earl enjoyed more than a battle with a horse that was determined not to be subservient to his will.

      They had a number of tussles before finally the Earl, pressing his tall hat firmly down on his head, took the stallion at a sharp pace down the row.

      Away

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