Chapter 68

The man raked him from head to foot with the bloody quizzing glass, making Sam feel small. Not many people could do that. He hoped this prancing ninny was a friend of Tristan’s. “You’d better come in and wait then,” he said, and turned tail.

Stunned, Sam followed. The house was magnificent. It looked as though it had been freshly decorated and there was a gentle smell of beeswax and lemon with a hint of tobacco lingering in the air. His footsteps echoed on the floor, and portraits of ancestors frowned at him as he followed the man into a study. It was huge. In it, stood a large oak desk with a leather chair behind it. The walls were lined with hundreds of books, and a fire burned gently in the grate that was flanked by two comfortable looking chairs. The man indicated one. “Take a seat. Brandy?” he asked as he picked up a decanter and waved it.