“A room next to our patrons,” Julian said. “We have just gotten off the ship, we are in need of shaves and baths—as I imagine you might realize—and the rest of our luggage has been delayed in being unloaded at the dock due to some error or another.” He flipped a hand into the air to display further annoyance. “Therefore we are in no mood for further errors. A room, if you please.”

“Well … Count Mowbrey … I can offer you a room on the same floor, but … it won’t be a Grand Suite as Count Pellegar has been given.”

“What room and how far from Count Pellegar’s, then?” Julian spoke the name as if he heard it every minute of every day.

“Number twenty-six, on the second floor at the end of the hallway. Count Pellegar and Baron Brux are in twenty-one. The room is readied for a gentleman who has yet to arrive but I can place him elsewhere. Your window’s view would unfortunately be of a brick wall.”

Julian gave a frown of distaste. “Horrible! But … I suppose it’ll have to do. You know, sometime in the future I hope inns are able to prevent these kinds of booking errors.”

“Yes, my hope as well, your Excellency. If you would sign, here, please. And I might ask for the prepayment of the nightly rate of two guineas?”

“Two guineas? The night is almost done! And with such an unsightly view and disregard for our arrival?” Julian paused in his penmanship. “What say one guinea for tonight, and we shall pay for the remainder of our stay tomorrow once all is sorted out?”

The clerk was obviously taken aback by this suggestion, because he stuttered a bit before he said, “I do understand your meaning, your Excellency, but—”

“Agreed, then!” Julian was already drawing out his sword, which caused the clerk another few seconds of consternation, but his expression relaxed when he saw the golden guinea that Count Mowbrey removed from the belt and placed with great care exactly at the center of the man’s open ledger. “Can’t be too careful, with all the rascals about,” Julian explained as he put the belt away and replaced the sword. “We’ll carry our own bags. The key, if you please?”

“Spottle?” asked Matthew as they ascended the grand staircase.

“The name of a stray dog I took in when I was a small boy. I had to think fast. And I once killed a man named Randolph Mowbrey, so he won’t mind.”

The second-floor hallway was also richly carpeted in red. Matthew saw that there looked to be only six rooms per floor, three facing three. As Julian unlocked the door of number twenty-six at the corridor’s far end, he said quietly, “We’ll wait for their luggage to come up and everything to settle. We don’t want any interruptions to spoil our party.”