Chapter Seven“Not bad rooms,” Lord Lynke said approvingly. “They obviously think I am of import!”
He walked round the large salon, inspecting the exquisite carved furniture, the bookcases filled with valuable volumes and the pictures that graced the walls.
There was a big bedchamber, elegantly furnished, and beyond it, although not connected, was the room where Ventura was to sleep.
Her room was small, but even so it was furnished with pictures painted by great Masters and hung with exquisite embroidered hangings that had been made for The Palace over a hundred years ago.
Lord Lynke stopped wandering and, taking off his sword, threw it on a chair and then sat down on the sofa.
“Lord! How this kowtowing tires a man!” he exclaimed.
It was not surprising that he was tired, Ventura thoug
