It is a wearisome journey from London to Bradgate Park, especially in the heat of summer. The roads are cracked and pitted where they exist at all and there are miles of rough ground to traverse where the body is thrown from side to side and like to receive countless bruises. Even with a goodly number of stops for ale and refreshment I still find that I arrive tired and weary.
The sun is bright as we arrive at the park with the deer and other livestock resting peacefully on the grass or walking down to the stream for water. My carriage glides slowly up the incline to Bradgate House and comes to rest in front of that fine building. I am shown into the summer parlour as soon as I have been allotted a bedchamber and refreshed my travel stained face with soap and water.
The Duke of Suffolk g
