“If we are successful, there will be little trouble left over for him. I expect he’ll take to his heels at the first sign.”
He sounded tense. Teresa didn’t blame him. She was even more so.
The gate closed behind them. Four large dogs appeared, two on either side of the gravel drive they drove along. The animals didn’t bark or offer to attack. They simply flanked the curricle in silent menace. They had black coats and sharp, gleaming teeth.
The drive passed through a band of trees. They couldn’t see anything until they rounded a curve and came upon a sizable house built of stone. It looked deceptively normal under the sunny sky. There were flowers in ornamental beds.
“The upper windows are barred,” said Lord Macklin.
Teresa’s blood chilled.
He drove on. A tall wrought-iron fence surrounded the house, its gate closed. Inside it, a graveled area surrounded the building.
The dogs stopped along the spiked fence, sitting on their haunches and watching them, but not moving closer. Arthur pointed this out to the señora. “We can hope they don’t venture in there.”
“Yes,” she said. She looked very pale.
He handed her the reins. “Just hold them steady. They will not bolt.”
“Where are you going?” Her voice rose near a wail.
“To open the gate. As we are not expected.”
“But the dogs!”
“I trust they know their territory. Or the rules, as the guard put it.” Hiding his own unease, Arthur climbed down from the curricle. The dogs stood up, their eyes following his every move, but they did not run at him. He unlatched the gate and pushed it open. There was no lock. Grasping the bridles of his leaders, he led them through the fence. With measured steps he went back to close the gate.
“Gracias a Dios,” said the señora.
“Indeed.” Arthur returned to his seat and took the reins again. He pulled up before the front door. No groom appeared to take the carriage. It seemed they had not yet been noticed.
“Should I go and knock?” asked Señora Alvarez.
Her voice did not tremble, but Arthur could see the effort she was making to control it. “Let us wait a moment,” he answered.
They waited several, and then the door opened and a woman emerged. She was finely dressed, but her square face showed the bitter lines of a hard life. Her hair was gray, her frame stocky. Arthur guessed she was around sixty. “What the devil do you mean by keeping me waiting?” he said before she could speak.
“We had no word…”
“Have you no one to care for my horses?” The key was to keep these people off-balance, goaded to obey by the voice of command. Arthur had heard such arrogance from others. “I do not see why Lord Simon spoke well of this place,” he added.
“His lordship never said anyone was…”
“What has that to say to anything?”
“Everything’s to be by appointment.”
“And I have one.”
“I never heard…”
“I could not be less interested in what you have or have not heard.” Arthur debated whether to climb down from the curricle. His team was well trained and would stand. No, better to loom over this woman from above. He twitched his whip. “Do you intend to keep me waiting here?” He thought he managed threatening incredulity rather well.
After a brief inner debate, visible on her seamed face, the woman bobbed a perfunctory curtsy. She turned to the open door. “Fetch Joe,” she called to someone unseen.
A groom appeared a few minutes later and took charge of the vehicle. Arthur watched where it was taken, hoping that he would soon be retrieving it and leaving this place. Then he put a hand on the señora’s back to guide her. Though it wasn’t noticeable at any distance, she was shaking.
They walked together into a spacious entry hall. A curving staircase rose at the back. Their—Arthur supposed she must be seen as—hostess looked Señora Alvarez up and down like a stockman evaluating cattle. Her attitude confirmed Arthur’s opinion of her, and of the nature of this house. She’d certainly been a procuress of some sort. “She’s a bit old,” the creature said. “We have fresher meat than her in here.”