She watched from the gate as his outline faded in the fog. He disappeared around the curve in the lane. The sound of the dog's barking diminished. One of those card sharpers and badger-baiters, she did not doubt, who would put his dog to fighting chained animals while he stood back and shouted and made his cowardly bets. Callie despised the breed. She hoped that he was merely passing through. The Bromyard fair had just ended, and fairs always attracted such men. She thought she would make note of it to Colonel Davenport. Just a word in the magistrate's ear, that whatever might be tolerated in Bromyard, such activities were not to be countenanced in Shelford's village.

Four

Four

BY NOONTIME, THE INHABITANTS OF DOVE HOUSE HAD full reason to be grateful to Lady Callista. Not only had a hot meal arrived from the Antlers, but the innkeep er's wife came with it. Mrs. Rankin insisted that she would stay to attend Madame while his lordship's grace stepped down to the inn, where the barber was awaiting him with water on the boil. A pair of men and a boy from Shelford Hall were already at work clearing the chimney, and a basket of green apples sat on the front table, compliments of Lady Shelford.

"You must call on her this afternoon, Trevelyan," his mother whispered, lifting her hand weakly from the coverlet. "I shall undertake to survive alone for an hour, I pledge you!"

He hesitated. But Mrs. Rankin shooed him toward the door, saying that it was no such thing—Madame would not be alone. The innkeeper's wife was a tiny woman, but she had the self-assurance of a scrappy terrier, admonishing Trev to have his coat brushed before he presented himself at the Hall. He left her chiding his mother to take more beef stew or find herself sorry for it, for if Lady Callista learned that Madame had not eaten well, it would be a great shame and a black stain on the honor of the Antlers.

She did not use those words, precisely, but she managed to convey the importance of the affair. Trev smiled as he closed the door. He was under no illusions. His family had always been treated with friendly condescension in Shelford, tolerated but hardly esteemed. It was Lady Callista's opinion that mattered to Mrs. Rankin.

It was Callie's opinion that mattered to him too. He submitted himself to the barber, had his boots polished, made use of one of the inn's bedchambers to tie a fresh neck cloth, compensated Mr. Rankin gener ously, and—having made himself plausibly presentable in a lady's drawing room—hired the Antlers' postboy and groom to put a pair to his carriage and drive him to Shelford Hall.