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  The Marquis thought this was a good idea and he rode on on an empty road finding it slightly boring.

  It was nearly six o’clock when he saw the roofs and spire of a town ahead of him. It was, he thought, a typical town that no one would visit unless they were interested in something local that was either bred or manufactured there.

  He was to find out later that he was right and the town specialised in saddling, but there were few shops and they did not contain anything particularly interesting.

  When he came to the hotel he could see that it was a hard ugly looking building of four floors and there was some not very adequate stabling behind it.

  He thought it was too late for him to go any further and so he rode into the stable yard and asked an ostler if it would be possible for him to stay the night and the man said that he would tell the hotel keeper.

  The Marquis looked in at the stables and as he had expected they were not very comfortable and not as clean as they might be and when the ostler returned to say that the hotel keeper was waiting for him inside, he demanded fresh straw.

  “You’ll ’ave to pay for it!” the ostler said somewhat aggressively.

  “I am perfectly prepared to do that, my man, and I also require a clean bucket and you must show me where there is fresh water.”

  “You might be a-talkin’ about yourself instead of your ’orse,” the ostler remarked caustically.

  “Strange though it may seem to you, my horse is very precious to me and, as he has come a long way, I am determined he should be comfortable.”

  The Marquis had been wise enough to bring some good oats with him that Firefly had enjoyed last evening and he was glad he had done so as there was nothing for him here but some rather tired hay.

  When he had finished and more or less forced the ostler to find what he required, he gave the man a good tip and his attitude changed at once.

  “That be real kind of you, sir,” he said as he slipped the coins into his pocket. “I’ll keep an eye on the ’orse. If ’e wants anythin’ more, I’ll give it to ’im.”

  As the Marquis walked into the hotel he realised it was a commercial building, a place he had never visited or stayed in before.

  The manager was a middle-aged man with a rather ugly face, an abrupt manner and not very welcoming.

  “I gather you wants to stay the night, sir,” he said and it was as if he was protesting rather than encouraging the proposal.

  “I need a comfortable bed and a good dinner,” the Marquis responded.

  Unexpectedly the manager laughed.

  “That be asking a lot in this place, but I’ll tell the cook to look to her laurels and see if there be anythin’ in the kitchen you can fancy.”

  “That is good of you and I would like to see your most comfortable room. I would be grateful if you would send me up some hot water to wash in or a bath, if such a thing is possible.”

  “A bath!” the manager exclaimed in astonishment. “Why should you be wantin’ that?”

  “I have been riding all day. I am hot and tired and a bath, cold or hot, would suit me well.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that, sir, it’s somethin’ we never gets asked for here.”

  “I should have thought in such a new town as this that there must be people who like bathing themselves and feeling clean. Even though normally in the depths of the country nobody bothers.”

  “Well, all I can say is that we don’t get asked very often for a bath. I believe there’s one somewhere in the hotel, but I’ve only been here just four months.”

  The Marquis had a feeling he was longing to tell him where he had been before and why he had come to this particular town, but as he was tired he thought it would be a mistake to start a long conversation. If it was anything to judge by what had happened to him in the past, it would go on for an amazingly long time!

  Finally the manager took the Marquis upstairs.

  On the first floor there were several bedrooms all of which appeared to be unoccupied.

  “These be our best rooms, sir, and you have to pay a good price for them.”

  “I am quite prepared to do so. Now show me the best one.”

  The best was not particularly prepossessing with an iron bedstead in the centre of the room and to his surprise the Marquis gathered it was intended for a married couple.

  The bed itself seemed small and hard, but as far as he could see the sheets were clean, so he declared,

  “Very well, I will take this. Let me have the warm water to wash with and the bath as soon as possible.”

  “It’ll be cold and I shouldn’t have thought you’d want to sit in cold water for long!”

  The manager walked away and the Marquis could hear him talking to himself as he went downstairs – clearly amazed at such an unusual request.

  To the Marquis’s surprise, although it took time, a somewhat battered hip bath was eventually brought in and with it were two cans of cold water and one can of warm.

  There was apparently some difficulty in finding a large bath towel, but anyway he tipped the servants who brought up the bath and the cans so they were all smiling when they left his room.

  Although the hip bath was uncomfortable, it was a joy to be able to wash completely. He thought that if the weather was warmer, he would doubtless find a lake or a river where it was private enough for him to swim naked.

  Finally he walked downstairs to dinner.

  It was to find that there were several people eating in the dining room and the food as he expected was just about edible, but completely unimaginative.

  There was soup with little taste to it and beef that was thick and tough and the vegetables had probably been around for several days.

  He refused a stodgy and unappetising pudding and instead finished his meal with cheese.

  There was no choice of wines and he had to content himself with a light beer brewed locally.

  As he had no one to talk to while he was eating, he looked at the others in the dining room and wondered what their history was and if there was anything about them he would find interesting.

  As the people he had met had been so original last night, he was disappointed this evening.

  The men were obviously travellers in trade and the women were dull, middle-aged and sat silent while their menfolk talked.

  Then as the meal ended the Marquis was surprised when a young girl came into the dining room.

  After looking around she walked across to him.

  She was about twenty-five.

  She had obviously made the best of her looks that were not up to much and her hair was undoubtedly dyed.

  Without asking his permission she sat down at the Marquis’s table and began,

  “I’ve come to talk to you, because my uncle, who runs this hotel told me you were different from the usual lot of travellers.”

  “As they don’t seem a very exciting bunch,” replied the Marquis, “I can only be grateful I am different.”

  She smiled at him.

  “You’re different all right and if you ask me, you’re a gentleman and shouldn’t be here with this lot!”

  “I think perhaps you are being rather unkind to your uncle’s guests. I am sure the men sitting at the other tables are all tradesmen and will sell the goods you make here in this town all over the country.”

  She laughed.

  “They try, but if you ask me they don’t know how to attract a buyer as they should do.”

  “And how would you attract them?” the Marquis asked her without thinking.

  Then, as he saw the expression in the girl’s eyes, he realised that it was a look he had often seen before but in very different circumstances.

  The girl lent forward putting both her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands.

  “Now tell me about yourself, sir. I’ve never met a man who didn’t want to talk about himself.”

  “Perhaps I am an exception,” replied the Marquis. “So I am much more inte
rested in hearing about you and your uncle. Does he own the hotel and do you help him?”

  “No, he’s just paid to manage it and them as owns it are very tight-fisted, I can tell you!”

  “And what do you do?”

  She gave him a sideways glance before she replied,

  “I’ll give you three guesses!”

  The Marquis thought this was dangerous ground so he responded,

  “Tell me more about the town. What entertainments are there here for young women like yourself?”

  She laughed again.

  “How do you expect me to answer that? The one thing we get plenty of is men. There’s no need for me to tell you they’re all of one sort with only one idea in their heads and that’s why I wanted to talk to you!”

  “I suppose by the one idea in their heads you mean they are trying to make money?”

  “Well, some of ’em have other ideas. What about you then, what are you after?”

  “I am just exploring the countryside,” the Marquis answered. “I have come North and this is the first town I have visited so far. I am sure I shall find it interesting.”

  “If you can find anything interesting in saddles and shoes, then all I’ll say is, I thought when I sees you, you’d be different.”

  “I am sure,” he said, “as every man wants bridles and saddles you must meet people from other parts of the country and not just those making them.”

  “Well, I just can’t be bothered with that lot. What I likes is men like yourself who have other interests and of course want a bit of fun.”

  “And what enjoyment is available here?”

  Even as he put the question he thought he had been rather stupid.

  There was a short pause and then she moved a little closer towards him before she purred,

  “What do you think? Me, of course!”

  “I have had a long day and you will understand that I need to retire to bed early. What might be rather rude on my part is not asking if you would care for a drink. Is there anything you would fancy?”

  “If you put it like that, I could do with a drop of brandy. The waiter knows the sort I like.”

  The Marquis put up his hand and then when the waiter came towards him, he ordered a brandy.

  “What I usually has, Jack!” she called, “and make it strong or I’ll throw it at you.”

  “Now don’t you get rough, Miss Flo,” the waiter countered. “You knows it makes the Master angry.”

  Flo laughed and as the man hurried away to fetch her brandy, the Marquis asked,

  “Are you rough at times?”

  “I got a bit rough the other night when one of the men who were out for a bit of fun dares me to dance on the table.”

  She giggled before she continued,

  “Course I did what he asked and my uncle was very angry not ’cos I was dancing but ’cos the table gave way and he had to send for a carpenter the next day!”

  The Marquis smiled before he commented,

  “Everywhere I go people seem to want to dance. Surely there is a hall in a town as big as this, where you could dance properly to an orchestra?”

  “What you mean is a ball and they has them every now and then, but they isn’t any fun. Ever so stiff they be with the men all dressed up while us women be expected to wear gloves.”

  “I should have thought you would like that. After all the balls in London are smart and everyone enjoys them enormously.”

  Flo made a grimace.

  “I find all that ‘how-do-you-do’ and ‘talkie-talkie’ very dull. I really likes a man that’s a man and that’s what I thinks you are.”

  Again she was looking at the Marquis in a way that he knew so well, but it was a very coarse and rough gesture compared to the usual way he received it.

  The waiter returned with a glass of brandy and the Marquis asked for his bill.

  “It’ll be ready tomorrow mornin’, sir, with the bill for stayin’ the night.”

  “Will you keep this table for me for breakfast?” the Marquis asked. “I hope to be down at eight o’clock.”

  The waiter nodded and walked away.

  “Shall we go and sit in one of the rooms?” Flo then asked, “where we’ll be alone.”

  “It’s nice of you to suggest it, Miss Flo, if I may, but as I have to leave so early and have had a long day, you will understand that I am sleepy and need to retire.”

  He expected her to look disappointed, but instead she wore a different look in her eyes that troubled him even more.

  He rose from the table.

  “It has been delightful meeting you, Miss Flo,” he said, “and I am sorry I shall not see you dance tonight.”

  It was the only comment he could think of.

  “Don’t you be too sure about that,” she mumbled, “but having been bought a brandy I don’t want to waste it.”

  “No, of course not!”

  The Marquis held out his hand.

  “The best of luck in the future.”

  She took his proffered hand and he felt her fingers squeeze against his and then she murmured,

  “Perhaps that’s not so far away as you think – ”

  The Marquis did not reply and he walked out of the dining room and up the stairs. He was well aware, without looking back, that Flo’s eyes were following him.

  When he reached his room, he closed the door and looked for a key to turn in the lock – there no sign of a key anywhere.

  He looked round his room.

  It was sparsely furnished and besides a double bed there was a dressing table with a small looking glass on it and there were also four hard chairs and a washing table with two basins and china jugs that matched them.

  Then he saw, which he had not noticed before, that there was a chest of drawers just by the door and it looked strong and firm – it had been made by a carpenter who was not sparing with his wood.

  In fact it took all the Marquis’s strength to push it from where it stood to just in front of the door.

  The door was now securely blocked by the chest and then he undressed and climbed into bed.

  He was more tired than he thought and he reckoned that even the hardness of the mattress would not prevent him from sleeping peacefully.

  He had just closed his eyes when he heard someone turn the handle of the door and push against it.

  It opened just a quarter of an inch and then striking the chest of drawers, it was impossible for it to move any further.

  The door was pulled back and tried again, but with exactly the same result. Then, as if the person outside had acknowledged defeat the door was pushed angrily back and he heard footsteps walking away down the passage.

  It was then that the Marquis fell fast asleep.

  *

  Only in the morning when he awoke with a start did he see the chest of drawers where he had put it last night.

  He had spent a peaceful undisturbed night and he mused that another time he might not be so lucky.

  He would be wise in future to have with him some kind of contraption which would enable him to lock a door without having a key. It was something he had not thought about before and he wondered if such a device had been invented and if not, why should he not invent it himself?

  Then he chuckled at the idea. After all most men would be only too willing to welcome anyone who came to their room and many would never have the opportunity of saying ‘no’ even if they wished to do so.

  The Marquis hurried down to breakfast.

  The waiter, hoping for a good tip, was attentive the moment he entered the dining room.

  He ate eggs and bacon and drank a cup of thick and dark tea, guessing it would be a treat to many in the town.

  To his relief there was no sign of Flo, nor did she appear when he said goodbye to the manager and thanked him for a good night’s rest.

  “Where you be goin’ now?” he asked the Marquis.

  “I have no idea, but it is definitely North and I hope to find something of
interest in the next place I stay.”

  “We ain’t got much to interest you here, sir,” said the manager. “It’s just the thought of money that brings in the travellers but a growing number go off empty-handed.”

  “Why is that?” the Marquis enquired.

  “If you asks me, it’s because them as has something to sell don’t change what they’re making from one year to the next.”

  “I suppose that might be said of a great number of things.”

  “Aye, sir, but one only gets something new when you’ve got too old to be useful any more. What is needed is products to brighten the eye and make you put your hand in your pocket. That’s what sellin’ be all about.”

  “You are quite right. I am surprised that you don’t manufacture something yourself that would be marketable and perhaps a great success over the whole country.”

  The manager put his head back and laughed.

  “We all hope to do so and if you asks what I really wants is a hotel somewhere by the sea or in a town where there be smart people with money and people that thinks to themselves they must have what’s new and what’s best.”

  “That is true and I am sure it would be a good idea for you to move to one of the more popular towns with a greater population.”

  “That’s just what I be planning, sir, and I’ll tell you one thing. My niece nags me day and night to be on the move.”

  “I can understand her feeling that perhaps you are wasted here.”

  “Well, I wishes you’d say that to them as runs this hotel. They own hotels in Liverpool and Glasgow which’d be very much to my liking.”

  “I hope you get one. Anyway goodbye and thank you again.”

  He walked out into the yard carrying his bags to put them back on Firefly’s saddle.

  Only when he had groomed his horse, saddled and bridled him, did he go out into the yard where he tipped the ostler and mounted Firefly.

  Then as he was just beginning to ride onto the road, he looked up at the hotel windows and at one of them Flo was hanging out and waving to him. Her hair was untidy and she looked somewhat slovenly in the sunshine.

  Nevertheless he swept off his hat gracefully.

  Flo waved until the Marquis had left the yard and was out of sight.

  ‘That is the sort of thing I have come all this way to avoid’, he thought. ‘The sooner I return and tell the Duke this is all a load of nonsense the better.’