““the tilbury, you must admit.” “Aye, I suppose,” Hayes admitted grudgingly. “But they don’t add anything to your consequence, if I may say it.” “How long have you been with me?” Patrick asked, smiling. “Since you was going to Cambridge, sir.” “Then you must surely know what a thick hide I have, eh?” Scarce inside, Patrick reached beneath the neck of his black gown to loosen his cravat. “Tell Wilson I’d have a bath,” he ordered, “and while it is being drawn, I’ll take a glass of port while I read the post.” “Of course, sir,” Hayes replied. “And would you have a nuncheon laid for you?” “No, I’ve not time to sit down to a meal. Just have Thomas bring up bread and meat to the library, I’ll eat while I read.””
