CHAPTER SEVENThe sound of barking dogs rang out in the frosty morning air. Elvira threw aside her bedclothes and ran to the window.
Far below stood two grooms each holding two horses by the bridle. Three spaniels sported about a gamekeeper, excited beyond measure at the sight of the shotguns slung on his shoulder.
Lord Baseheart and the Prince emerged from the house, followed by an elderly Duke who had stayed on at Baseheart after last night’s ball.
There was no sign of Serge.
The Prince cut a distinguished figure, but was evidently ill at ease. He paced to and fro, tugging at his gloves as if unaccustomed to such thick leather.
Lord Baseheart, the Duke and the gamekeeper mounted their steeds without aid. One of the grooms then knelt and, hands cupped, helped the Prince on to his hors
