“Oh, right you are,” Braddon replied, considerably relieved. “It was that night you and I stopped at an inn, on our way to Ascot, Petersham. Do you remember that?”

Petersham nodded. “Remember you were throwin’ the dice long after I went to bed,” he confirmed.

“And I won a boat,” Braddon said cheerfully. “I remember it all now.”

“Is the government requisitioning our clippers?” Patrick Foakes asked, a trifle sharply. He was the owner of three clippers, none of which he cared to give up.

“Oh no, no, no,” Lord Breksby protested. “A man’s home is his castle, as they say. We were wondering whether one of you might like to sail down the shore and around the coast of Wales in the next few months. We have ordered the building of fortifications on the Welsh coast, but the West Countries are very difficult to manage.” Breksby frowned. “They simply won’t follow orders over there.”

All five gentlemen looked at him expectantly.

“That’s all there is to it, gentlemen,” he said. “Sources inform us that there is a small chance that Napoleon may attempt to invade England from the rear, as it were, probably sailing from Boulogne around the coast, and landing on the coast of Wales.”

Braddon frowned. “Why would he do that? It’s much faster to just sail across the channel from France. Why, I’ve done it in six hours.”

What his mother must have endured when he was a child! Why, the chucklehead doesn’t even know the channel is blocked, Breksby thought. Then he said, with utmost courtesy, “I’m afraid that Napoleon has raised a blockade in the channel at the moment, my lord. In point of fact, that is precisely why I am asking one of you gentlemen to take on the task. Naturally, I could order our navy to inspect the Welsh fortifications, but it would pull a boat away just at the time when we are forced to deal with Monsieur Napoleon’s attempt to block the channel. In short, we would be very grateful if one of you would take on the task.”

“Well, I can’t do it until the season is over,” Braddon said promptly. “I got myself engaged this morning, and now my mother tells me that I shall have to attend any number of events.” There was a pause. “And then, of course, I have to get married,” Braddon added.

Lord Breksby looked interested. He liked to know exactly what alliances were being formed within the aristocracy.

“May I enquire whether Lady Sophie York accepted your hand?”

“She did.” Braddon beamed.

Alex met Patrick’s eyes as they both stood up and offered their congratulations to the future bridegroom. Only his twin saw the spark of derision in Patrick’s black eyes, the mocking twist to his lips.

Patrick turned abruptly to Lord Breksby. “I’ll do it.” His voice was clipped, cool.

Lord Breksby beamed. He too had stood up, and was leaning slightly forward, balancing his outstretched fingertips against the desk.

“Splendid, splendid. In that case, if you could spare me a few minutes of your valuable time, I will show you where the fortifications are supposed to be.” Breksby’s voice was suffused with irony. The Welsh were a trying and tenacious people who showed no sign of becoming accustomed to English rule. He had very little hope that the fortifications existed.