Veiled in Blue Read Online Free Page B

he’d order it chopped up for firewood.
    Particularly this bed. When he’d ventured to investigate what lay under the prickly horsehair mattress, he’d found a crisscrossed pattern of ropes. For the first time in his life he’d slept on a rope bed. After he left this place, he would never sleep on one again.
    He swung out of bed and removed the chair he had propped under the door. Since the entrance to his room had no lock, only a latch, he had considered the possibility of being murdered in his bed and decided on the single chair, which, having one leg shorter than the other three, was of little use for anything else.
    Outside the door, he found a can of water. At least he could shave.
    Lamaire had provided him with soap, razor, comb, and other necessities, including, he was amused to discover, a small silver-topped bottle filled with the cologne he customarily used. He appreciated the inclusion of the small luxury, even more that Lamaire had remembered not to put it in one of his crested, monogrammed bottles. No doubt, the dressing case containing the bottle and its fellows was on the way to Alex’s house. As Julius should be, except he’d decided on this mad plan.
    Sometimes a man had to get away. Julius’s habit of travelling as Mr. Vernon would have given his mother conniptions, but she had no idea of his occasional excursions as a simple untitled gentleman. She would have no idea he even knew how to shave himself or dress himself for that matter. As far as Julius knew, his father had never shaved himself in the whole of his life.
    He poured water in the small washing bowl on the chest of drawers, lathered some soap, and began the task, squinting into the small cracked mirror hanging above the basin.
    Twenty minutes later, respectably dressed, he viewed his reflection and grinned. Nobody would give him a second glance if he walked past them in the street. In this village? He knew country life well enough to realize they would be interested in the stranger in their midst, so he had better go downstairs and order something to eat while letting small morsels of his history drop.
    The rickety stairs heralded his presence more effectively than a trumpet blast, but only a few people glanced up when he entered the taproom and asked if they were serving food. Several people already occupied the place. He ignored two people who were obviously travelling on after eating. They would not care who he was, or he them. As long as they didn’t recognize him, he had no interest in them. He doubted his own household would recognize him in this getup.
    He enjoyed the meal—hot, well cooked, and fresh—and the solitude afforded him when he ate. The landlady brought out his food herself, and he took the opportunity to ask about Woolton Manor.
    “Did you see it on your way past?”
    “No, I have business with his lordship.”
    Her pale blue eyes rounded, and her grey-flecked eyebrows went up. “My, sir, are you a guest?”
    “Merely one of his lordship’s men of business.”
    The corners of her mouth turned down. “Ah. Well it’s about eight miles away, if you ride. There’s a footpath if you want to walk, and that’s much shorter.”
    “I have a horse.”
    “Eating its head off, the ostler said,” the woman remarked. She wriggled her shoulders, and her linen fichu slipped a little. She hitched it back up and offered Julius a four-toothed grin. “Should you want it today, sir?”
    “Ah, no. I’ll walk today. Do people from the household generally pass by this place?” If they did, his goose was cooked, because they’d know him for sure. Julius had never visited the manor before. Alex had chosen it because it was out of the way. He had brought Connie to this place for a secluded honeymoon, and apart from the occasional visit to town, they’d remained here ever since. Julius would shortly find out what the appeal of Woolton was, although he guessed it was less what than who. Alex had fallen head over heels for Connie,