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it?”
    “No special reason,” she said vaguely.
    I kept looking toward the saloon, mutely reminding Rachel that our guest was still standing in the hallway. Finally she relented and asked him in. I’m usually a few paces behind Rachel in my thinking, but at about that time I figured out that she meant for Mickey to spread the news of her cousin’s arrival. The Wares were the likeliest people in the neighborhood to get word back to London, for Lord Ware often went there. He was assembling statuary for his park.
    “I thought maybe it had something to do with—
    “No, no, there’s no special reason for his visit,” she interrupted swiftly.
    “I thought that, too, Mickey,” I said. “I was sure his coming had something to do with Napoleon’s possible invasion, but if it has, he didn’t mention it. We must ask him tomorrow.”
    Mickey gave me a surprised look, but when he spoke, he said only, “Why don’t you ask him tonight?”
    “He’s gone to bed,” Rachel replied.
    “Has he now? And who’s the gentleman out walking along the beach then? He has a lordly look about him. I made sure it was Aiglon.”
    “A man on the beach?” I asked, and went to the window. The beach isn’t actually visible from the saloon, but a man walking on the beach might take the road up to Thornbury. Our house is a little isolated from the others, and we take proprietary interest in anyone who is nearby on foot, providing he looks like a gentleman.
    Indeed there was a gentleman strolling toward the house.
    “It is Lord Aiglon!” I exclaimed, looking a question to Rachel. “What’s he doing out there? He asked for hot bathwater and broth.”
    “He was just taking a breath of air, it looked like,” Mickey said, and walked to the window. “Yes, that’s the same man right enough.”
    I made small talk with Mickey while Rachel prepared her setdown for Aiglon. I expected Aiglon would sneak in by the back door, through which he had apparently left, but he strolled nonchalantly to the front door and let himself in.
    Rachel came to attention to do battle with him. “You shouldn’t be walking outdoors right after a hot bath, Aiglon,” she said.
    “Aiglon?” he asked, as though he’d never heard the name before.
    “He knows,” Rachel replied, tossing her head toward Mickey.
    “I see. Well, to put your mind at rest, Cousin, I haven’t yet had my bath. There wasn’t sufficient water. While my footmen prepared some, I decided to walk away the cricks and cramps of travel.” He turned his attention to Mickey and continued speaking. “I don’t believe I have the pleasure of your guest’s acquaintance, despite his knowing who I am.”
    Mickey arose and pumped Aiglon’s hand. He introduced himself before Rachel had the opportunity to do it for him. I poured wine for the company, and we all settled in to chat while Aiglon’s water was readied.
    “Is it Boney that brings you down from London?” Mickey inquired. “You’re with the F.O., I believe I’ve heard my stepfather say.’’
    “Bonaparte?” Aiglon asked, his fine eyebrows lifting. “No, on the contrary, I hesitated to come to the east coast at this time because of the possibility of invasion, but then I don’t expect anything will come of it.”
    “You are quite mistaken there, Aiglon,” Rachel said. “We expect to hear the roar of guns any day now,” Her hope, of course, was to frighten him away.
    “Surely precautions have been taken?” he said. “The military has installations on the coast, and there is the militia as well.”
    “I personally wouldn’t expect a bunch of farmers with turnip hoes and rakes and shovels to defend me,” Rachel pointed out. “We shall be in a fine pickle if the French come.”
    “You are too kind to worry about me,” Aiglon said, “but, in the unlikely event of an attack, I have packed my French grammar and shall introduce myself as Monsieur Aigle.”
    This pusillanimous course earned him three rebukeful stares. Mickey