Page 88 of How to Ruin a Rake

“I wouldn’t recommend that, sir.” Mr. Cobbins had the audacity to step in front of Max. “Things aren’t ready for you, but we’ll set that to rights when the rest of the staff get here, eh?”

“Move,” Max snapped. “And it’s my lord, not sir.”

Max and Allegra left the kitchen and headed past a butler’s pantry, which was unoccupied, and a housekeeper’s room that appeared to be stuffed with furniture and that had a roaring fire in the grate. Max held the baize door open so that Allegra could proceed into the entrance hall.

“The proportions are nice.” Allegra looked up at the domed ceiling. “The house goes back much farther than I imagined.”

“Why are you talking about the damned ceiling when it’s obvious that something is seriously wrong with this place?” Max demanded.

He took her hand and marched her down the first of several corridors leading off the hall. Dust hung heavy in the air, along with the smell of damp and encroaching mold. All the shutters were closed over the windows, but it was still bright enough to see that the rooms contained almost no furniture or art on the walls.

“Where’s everything gone?” Allegra asked. “Do you think it’s being stored somewhere?”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Max said, as he shut the final door and they set off again. “Ah, here are the more formal rooms.”

They entered a drawing room with a beautifully decorated ceiling and a large marble fireplace. The carpet needed cleaning, and again, there was almost no furniture. The dining room, which could be accessed through double doors from the drawing room, was similarly bare. The study was occupied by a large spaniel sleeping in front of the fire who barely bothered to acknowledge their existence.

Allegra assumed it must belong to Mr. Cobbins. “I don’t think the duke would like his agent using his study,” she observed.

“He would not.”

Just as they were about to go upstairs, someone banged on the front door. Max looked out of the window and immediately tried to open the door, which creaked and groaned from lack of use.

“Oh, my goodness, my lord.” Claude almost collapsed into Max’s arms. “A wheel came off the cart, and we had to stop at an inn in Corsham to have it fixed, and it took forever!”

“We’re glad that you’re here now,” Allegra said. “Perhaps you might meet us back in the kitchen? The cook is making some tea.”

Claude departed, and Max shut the door and turned to Allegra. She’d never seen him look quite so formidable.

“I don’t know what you think, my dear, but it appears to me that the Cobbinses haven’t been doing their job.”

“I agree.” Allegra shuddered. “Do you think there will even be a bed upstairs to sleep in?”

“I damn well hope so.” He took her hand. “Shall we go back to the kitchen and ask our amiable hosts exactly what is going on?”

Max had nurtured a foolish dream of presenting Allegra with a home fit for a princess, and instead, he’d brought her to a disaster. Like some flashy courting male bird, he’d finally hoped to impress her, and now his feathers were bedraggled, his head was down, and if he wasn’t careful, his preferred mate would be flying the coop.

She walked ahead of him into the kitchen with a calmness he wished he could emulate. Claude, Allegra’s maid Anne, and his head groomsman had crowded into the room and were all talking at once.

“Where is Mr. Cobbins?” Max asked.

“And Mrs. Cobbins?” Allegra added.

“We saw two people in a gig on the drive as we came in,” Claude said. “They appeared to be leaving in some haste.”

Max took a deep breath and inwardly cursed. Allegra took his hand.

“I’m sure they won’t get far.” She smiled at Claude and Anne. “It appears that our arrival was not expected. We are not even sure if there are any beds.”

Claude gasped, but Anne returned Allegra’s smile and said, “We’ll do our best to make things comfortable for you, my lady, don’t you worry about that.”

“I know you will,” Allegra said. “And at least Mrs. Smith is still here. Why don’t we all have a cup of tea and then we can proceed?”

Max sat down and accepted the tea a very apologetic Mrs. Smith gave him. With the Cobbinses gone, she was more than happy to tell them about how the house had been run into the ground, and that their turning up was the best thing that had happened in ages.

“Drove off most of the staff, they did,” Mrs. Smith said. She began cutting slices of fruitcake. “Families who’d worked here for generations let go without any notice, just because they dared to complain about the goings-on.”

“What happened to all the furniture?” Allegra asked as Max remained silent.