Read Online Amanda Scott by Lord Greyfalcon’s Reward - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lord Greyfalcon’s Reward
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“Very well, man, what’s the damage?”
The innkeeper named a sum that seemed vast to Sylvia. Indeed, it seemed just as vast to Greyfalcon, especially when the innkeeper informed him that either the inn’s own lads would go along to look after the team, or there would be no team provided. That meant either hiring extra mounts for his own postboys or putting them up at the inn until they might be sent for. Greyfalcon opted for the latter, suggesting that the full amount owed might be paid when his coach came back to collect the boys.
“I don’t think so, my lord,” the man said evenly, more determined now than ever. “For a man so certain he can pay, you appear downright slow to do so.”
“Well, the fact of the matter is that I didn’t expect to have to lay out much blunt on this journey,” Greyfalcon told him. “The decision to make the trip at all was made at short notice, and I had no time to provide myself with any great amount of cash. Moreover, I’ve always been able to travel on tick before. I just haven’t come this way in some time, and a good many houses appear to have changed ownership in the meantime.”
“I don’t doubt it, my lord, but I’ll have my money, if you please.”
“Look here, we’ve still a full stage and more ahead of us. I can’t give you every cent I have. What if your horses pull up lame?”
“My lads’ll look after ’em,” the man retorted. He said no more, merely gazing expectantly at the earl.
Glancing at Sylvia again with a look that boded no good for her immediate future, Greyfalcon said tightly, “Very well, but I shall not want another horse. I shall ride in the chaise from here on. I haven’t enough on me to cover the whole amount, and I’ve no wish to be without any money at all, but I can leave my watch with you if you’ll take it.” He drew a large, gold watch on an intricate gold chain from his waistcoat pocket. “The chain alone is worth your charges, but I’ll leave the watch as well. Will that suit you?”
“Indeed, sir, and I’ll keep it safe by until you are able to redeem it. I’m an honest man, I am, and I can see that the watch is valuable.”
Indeed, he was so impressed by the earl’s gesture that Sylvia half-expected him to relent. Clearly Greyfalcon expected the same thing, and when the man simply turned away to go about his business, he released his breath in a sigh of angry frustration.
In the chaise, Sylvia waited breathlessly and somewhat fearfully for him to vent his anger, but beyond giving her another angry look, Greyfalcon said nothing, merely climbing in behind her and sitting beside her in silence. That silence continued most uncomfortably for the last twelve miles of their journey.
As the chaise turned onto the tree-lined gravel drive leading up to her father’s house, she drew a long breath of relief. Her mission was accomplished. She had brought Greyfalcon home, and now that he was here, he would see how greatly he was needed. His mother would be delighted to see him, and his tenants would be even more so. No doubt the worthy MacMusker would greet his arrival with unmixed joy, grateful to have a master home again at last. She let down the window and leaned out a little to watch for the first view of her father’s house.
Moments later the thick growth of beech trees on either side of the road seemed to part, giving view of the tall stone manor house. The arched, sixteenth-century gateway, with its central oriel and porter’s lodge above, seemed to be set off by the red-tiled roof of the house behind.
Greyfalcon spoke for the first time since leaving the Assington Cross innyard. “The approach to this house always seems to take one back in time. One almost expects to be met by men at arms.”
His tone was not particularly friendly. It was more as though he merely muttered his thoughts aloud.
Sylvia answered just as evenly, “I doubt there were many men at arms here at any time, sir. The original house was
The innkeeper named a sum that seemed vast to Sylvia. Indeed, it seemed just as vast to Greyfalcon, especially when the innkeeper informed him that either the inn’s own lads would go along to look after the team, or there would be no team provided. That meant either hiring extra mounts for his own postboys or putting them up at the inn until they might be sent for. Greyfalcon opted for the latter, suggesting that the full amount owed might be paid when his coach came back to collect the boys.
“I don’t think so, my lord,” the man said evenly, more determined now than ever. “For a man so certain he can pay, you appear downright slow to do so.”
“Well, the fact of the matter is that I didn’t expect to have to lay out much blunt on this journey,” Greyfalcon told him. “The decision to make the trip at all was made at short notice, and I had no time to provide myself with any great amount of cash. Moreover, I’ve always been able to travel on tick before. I just haven’t come this way in some time, and a good many houses appear to have changed ownership in the meantime.”
“I don’t doubt it, my lord, but I’ll have my money, if you please.”
“Look here, we’ve still a full stage and more ahead of us. I can’t give you every cent I have. What if your horses pull up lame?”
“My lads’ll look after ’em,” the man retorted. He said no more, merely gazing expectantly at the earl.
Glancing at Sylvia again with a look that boded no good for her immediate future, Greyfalcon said tightly, “Very well, but I shall not want another horse. I shall ride in the chaise from here on. I haven’t enough on me to cover the whole amount, and I’ve no wish to be without any money at all, but I can leave my watch with you if you’ll take it.” He drew a large, gold watch on an intricate gold chain from his waistcoat pocket. “The chain alone is worth your charges, but I’ll leave the watch as well. Will that suit you?”
“Indeed, sir, and I’ll keep it safe by until you are able to redeem it. I’m an honest man, I am, and I can see that the watch is valuable.”
Indeed, he was so impressed by the earl’s gesture that Sylvia half-expected him to relent. Clearly Greyfalcon expected the same thing, and when the man simply turned away to go about his business, he released his breath in a sigh of angry frustration.
In the chaise, Sylvia waited breathlessly and somewhat fearfully for him to vent his anger, but beyond giving her another angry look, Greyfalcon said nothing, merely climbing in behind her and sitting beside her in silence. That silence continued most uncomfortably for the last twelve miles of their journey.
As the chaise turned onto the tree-lined gravel drive leading up to her father’s house, she drew a long breath of relief. Her mission was accomplished. She had brought Greyfalcon home, and now that he was here, he would see how greatly he was needed. His mother would be delighted to see him, and his tenants would be even more so. No doubt the worthy MacMusker would greet his arrival with unmixed joy, grateful to have a master home again at last. She let down the window and leaned out a little to watch for the first view of her father’s house.
Moments later the thick growth of beech trees on either side of the road seemed to part, giving view of the tall stone manor house. The arched, sixteenth-century gateway, with its central oriel and porter’s lodge above, seemed to be set off by the red-tiled roof of the house behind.
Greyfalcon spoke for the first time since leaving the Assington Cross innyard. “The approach to this house always seems to take one back in time. One almost expects to be met by men at arms.”
His tone was not particularly friendly. It was more as though he merely muttered his thoughts aloud.
Sylvia answered just as evenly, “I doubt there were many men at arms here at any time, sir. The original house was