Page 39 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

When they dispersed, Afton found Frederick in the connecting passage they called Piccadilly, leaning against the wall as he wrote something in his notebook. He snapped it shut when he saw Afton approaching, and slipped it with his pencil into his pocket. ‘All right, Mr Afton?’ he said affably.

‘Were you baiting Mr Moss just then?’ Afton asked.

The bland, innocent look returned. ‘Baiting, Mr Afton? I don’t understand you.’

‘Don’t you? Well, in that case, I must be mistaken,’ Afton said, giving him a long, considering look. ‘By the way, this Adolf doesn’t confine his attention to females, if you know what I mean. So watch your back.’

‘I’m not that way inclined, Mr Afton,’ Frederick said. ‘I like my bread buttered right side up.’

‘Just a friendly warning,’ Afton said, with a nod. He hesitated, then said, ‘What is it I see you writing in that notebook of yours all the time?’

‘Just things I want to remember,’ Frederick said. ‘Well, I’d better see what wines Mr Moss wants bringing up for this evening. Formal dinner, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, and guests. The Bexleys and the Brinklows, but they’re from the village, they won’t be staying.’

‘Special friends of her highness’s, I expect.’

‘I imagine so,’ said Afton.

Frederick moved off, and Afton found Rose at his elbow, having just come out of the housemaids’ room where presumably she had heard the exchange.

‘Special friends?’ she said derisively. ‘You’re soft, you are She’s never had any special friends. And she’s always looked down on everyone in the village. Not good enough for her by a long chalk.’

‘Why have they been invited, then?’ Afton asked.

‘So that our lot don’t have to spend the evening alone with the highnesses, of course. Don’t tell him that.’ She jerked her head in the direction Frederick had taken. ‘I don’t trust him.’

‘Don’t trust him? In what way?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, frowning, thoughtful. ‘He’s too clever,’ she concluded. ‘Oh, you’re clever, Mr Afton, but you’re different. You don’t hold it over a person.’

‘Does he?’

‘Not yet,’ she said cryptically. Then, ‘What’s he keep writing in that notebook for? He told me it was things he wanted to remember.’

‘Notes for his job, I suppose. He hadn’t worked in a house like this before he came here.’

Rose tossed her head. ‘Believe that if you want to. Well, I must get on. Mrs Webster wants me to check her highness’s room, make sure everything’s perfect.’

‘She wants me to check the prince’s.’

They parted, but as she passed him, Rose said quietly to Afton, ‘That Frederick will surprise us one day, you mark my words. He’s a dark horse.’

At breakfast on Tuesday Kitty offered to ride with her mother-in-law and was pleased when her company was rejected, though she knew better than to show it.

The prince was not riding, and for a moment after breakfast she thought she was going to be left with him, as Richard had gone out early and Giles showed symptoms of being about to bolt for his study. But just in time the prince started talking to Giles about forestry, and Kitty was able to slip away.

Giles could not, in politeness, abandon his guest, and first took him to the library to see what books there might be on the care and commercial exploitation of woodland (none) and managed to distract him with a history of Thomas Coke, with which the prince struggled, and then a modern edition of Tusser’s poem, which seemed to amuse him. While he was leafing through those, Giles managed to read some of his second post; then, when the library seemed to have exhausted its powers of entertainment, he suggested they push the balls around in the billiard room. Usingen accepted gladly, and the occupation, which happily did not require much conversation, lasted the rest of the morning.

So it was not until the four of them were seated at the luncheon table that Giles finally asked his mother, ‘Not that it isn’t delightful to see you, but is there a particular reason for your visit?’

Maud gave him a sharp look, as if suspicious of the first half of that sentence, then said, ‘I have come to deliver good news. Linda has come to an agreement with Pippi Plotzkau-Zeitz. They are to be married in August. It is an excellent arrangement, and a good match for her, in the circumstances – only a landgrave, but it will give her a comfortable establishment.’

‘I’m glad for her,’ Giles said, wondering what Usingen’s cousin Pippi could possibly see in his sister.

Maud looked as though she read his thought easily enough. ‘The prince is much to be congratulated on securing the match,’ she said. They all looked at him and he smiled and nodded over his soup spoon. ‘Pippi, as you know, is a widower with young children. Linda will make an excellent chatelaine and supervise the upbringing of his children. The benefit,’ she gave Giles a severe look, ‘is by no means all on one side.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Giles said, in placatory tones. ‘Well, I must write to Linda with my felicitations.’