Chapter THREEFor a moment the Marquis could only stare at the Earl in astonishment.
He was a middle-aged man and had been considered good-looking when he was young, but his eyes were too close together.
He now not only looked debauched but the enmity and hatred that he regarded the Marquis with had etched lines on his face that were unmistakable.
As he entered the room, he was smiling unpleasantly and there was a light of triumph in his expression that the Marquis at first found hard to understand.
Deliberately he did not rise to his feet but asked,
“May I enquire why you are here, Matlock, so early in the morning?”
As he spoke, he realised that the Earl was in riding clothes, his boots were covered with dust and he was holding a thin riding whip in his hand.
It was obvious that he
