Charles yanked the bellpull, then followed. “I’ll discuss this with Francesca this evening-”

“And I’ll call tomorrow morning to hear her answer.” Gyles paused as Charles joined him at the door. “One last impertinence. You mentioned your marriage was an arranged one-tell me, were you happy?”

Charles met his gaze. “Yes. We were.”

Gyles hesitated, then inclined his head. “Then you know Francesca has nothing to fear in the arrangement I propose.”

There’d been pain in Charles’s eyes. Gyles knew Charles was a widower, but he hadn’t anticipated that depth of feeling; Charles had clearly felt the loss of his wife keenly. A chill touched his nape. Gyles stepped into the hall. Charles followed. They shook hands, then the butler arrived. Gyles followed him back through the house.

As they neared the front hall, the butler murmured, “I’ll just send the footman for your horse, my lord.”

They stepped into the hall to find no footman in sight, but the green baize door at the hall’s end was swinging wildly. A second later, a shrieking scullery maid raced out. She ignored Gyles and rushed for the butler.

“Oh, Mr. Bulwer, you got to come quick! There’s a chook got loose in the kitchen! Cook’s chasing it with a cleaver, but it won’t stand still!”

The butler looked offended and guilty simultaneously. He slid a helpless glance at Gyles as the maid dragged with all her might on his sleeve. “I do apologize, my lord-I’ll get help-”

Gyles laughed. “Don’t worry-I’ll find my way. By the sound of it, you’d better settle things in the kitchen if you want any dinner tonight.”

Relief washed over Bulwer’s face. “Thank you, my lord. The stable lad will have your horse ready.” Before he could say more, he was dragged away. Gyles heard him scolding the maid as they went through the swinging door.

Grinning, Gyles strolled to the front door. Letting himself out, he descended the steps, then, on impulse, turned left. He strolled the parterre, admiring the trimmed hedges and conifers. On his left, the stone wall bordered the path, then a yew hedge continued the line unbroken. He turned left again at the earliest opportunity-an archway in the hedge giving onto a path through the shrubbery. He looked ahead; the stable’s roof rose beyond the hedges.