Lord Markham Anglesley, Duke of Colbridge, stared out the window of his carriage at the large manor that took up half a city block, its stately architecture much grander than that of his own home.
He wondered, briefly, at the cost of such a building, but then put all thoughts from his head. A servant scurried forward, placing a step upon the ground, then hurried to open the carriage door.
Lord Anglesley exited his confined space, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air. It was still early spring, and the land had not yet wholly shaken off winter"s icy grip. He watched his breath drift away on a slight breeze, then dissipate quickly.
The door to the manor stood open, the soft light from within beckoning him, and so he moved with purpose, his cane clicking on the stone as he went. He
