Chapter Six
They put up for the night just north of Torquay, halting at an inn so close to the sea that Alexander could taste salt in the air. He climbed stiffly down from the carriage and turned to help Georgiana descend. The second carriage-and-four, bearing their personal servants, clattered into the yard. All was bustle and noise for a few minutes and it was impossible to think of anything in particular, but later, when he was in his bedchamber dressing for dinner, all his worries came crowding back. Alexander changed his shirt and waistcoat silently, tied a fresh neckcloth, combed his hair, stared at himself in the mirror. Who am I?
Behind him his valet, Fletcher, was unpacking the candles, placing one candelabrum on the mantelpiece and another on the dressing table, two chamberstic
