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almost directly south, more or less on the coast, and the roads are fairly direct.”
    She nodded, not yet trusting her voice. She waited for him to start questioning her—she would have sworn that’s what he intended. Instead, once they were bowling along, he glanced at her once, but thereafter gave his attention to his horses, apparently feeling no need to converse.
    The curricle rolled quite smoothly along, quite quickly, too, pulled effortlessly by the powerful horses. Her attention, too, fixed on the sleek pair. She knew enough to recognize prime horseflesh when she saw it; if Henry could see her now he’d turn green.
    For his part, Jonas Tallent seemed an excellent whip—not showy or flashy, knowing just when to draw his leader in, when it was safe to lower his hands, just when to step in and restrain the highly strung pair.
    “Have you had them for long?” She hadn’t meant to initiate any discussion, to show any interest, but the words were out before she’d thought.
    “Since they were foals.” He didn’t take his eyes from the road, but after a moment added, “My brother-in-law, Lucifer Cynster, has a cousin—Demon Cynster—who’s one of the premier breeders of racehorses in England. These two are from his stud. He keeps those he considers better for racing, and the rest go to the family—which luckily for me includes anyone connected with the Cynsters.”
    Lucifer? Demon? She almost asked, but at the last minute decided she really didn’t need to know. Instead…“Your brother-in-law—is he the one who lives at Colyton Manor?”
    “Yes. He inherited the manor from the previous owner—Horatio Welham. Horatio was a collector, and Lucifer knew him through that. Horatio considered Lucifer the son he never had, so when Horatio died, Lucifer found himself the owner of Colyton Manor.”
    “And then he married your twin.”
    He nodded, glanced briefly her way. “You’ll meet Phyllida soon—that I can guarantee. She’ll have heard about you taking up the innkeeper’s position by now—she’ll be around to meet you as soon as she can get time away from her multiplying horde.”
    “Horde?”
    “She and Lucifer have two sons—two noisy, boisterous imps who take up a lot of Phyllida’s time. And multiplying because she’s expecting another.”
    She let that, and his tone when he spoke of his sister and her brood, sink in. Eventually she asked, “Is there just the two of you—you and Phyllida?”
    He glanced at her, mischief in his eyes. “Our parents always maintained two were enough.”
    Pure curiosity prompted her to ask, “But what about you—did you think it was enough?”
    He didn’t answer immediately. She wondered if he would, but finally he said, “Not all of us can be lucky enough to be part of a large family.”
    She looked ahead, thought of her family—and saw no reason to dispute his statement.
    Now that the ice had been broken she fully expected him to start probing. Instead, they rattled on through the fine autumn afternoon in a strangely comfortable silence. Birds flitted and sang; the salty tang in the air grew increasingly pronounced as they crested the last rise before the gentle downward slope to the cliff tops.
    Despite all recent distractions, the quest that had brought her to Colyton was never far from her mind. As he set his horses trotting evenly down the slope, she glanced at him. “Tell me about the village in the wider sense. I know about the manor and the Grange. Are there other large houses around? Places with staff we might persuade to use the inn?”
    He nodded. “Quite a few larger houses, as it happens. Ballyclose Manor’s the largest. That lies further along the lane beside the church. It’s owned by Sir Cedric Fortemain. Then there’s Highgate, owned by Sir Basil Smollet—that’s out along the lane on the other side of the rectory. You should probably add Dottswood Farm to the list. Although it’s not a house in the same sense as the others, it is