Free Ten Lords A-Leaping by Ruth Dudley Edwards

or “Nether Wallop”.’
    ‘Where is it, how do I get there, when do they want me, what do I wear?’
    ‘Rutland. Tommy will ring you with the details. You’ll be travelling with him.’
    ‘Oh, no. I can’t stand it.’
    ‘That’s the wrong attitude. You must throw yourself into this. Shapely Bottom Hall is not for the faint-hearted. Besides, I want them to admire and love you.’
    ‘Thanks, Jack.’ Amiss finished his wine and held his glass out gratefully to the hovering waiter.

----
    Chapter 9
    « ^ »
    How Lord Beesley had ever got to be a leader of men was a question that had been preoccupying Amiss. Even though Deptford had told him a few stories of Beesley’s courage and dash on the hunting field, they seemed incompatible with a voice like a neurotic nanny goat and an obsession with trivia. But then, recollecting some senior civil servants for whom he had worked and ministers he had known, Amiss reminded himself that you got Tommy Beesleys in positions of authority in every walk of life. That thought just about carried him through their first conversation.
    ‘Are you quite sure you’ve got that, young man?’
    ‘Yes, thank you. All absolutely clear.’
    ‘Just repeat the directions once more.’
    ‘It’s OK, Tommy. I’ve written it all down.’
    ‘No, no, you must set my mind at rest. It would never do if you got lost. We can’t have that happening.’
    ‘Well, it would hardly be the end of western civilization as we know it,’ said Amiss irritably.
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘Oh, nothing. Very well. I’ll meet you at the entrance to the platform from which the four-forty-five to Market Harborough departs.’
    ‘Which station, which station?’
    ‘St Paneras.’ He didn’t say ‘you old idiot’, but it was a close-run thing. ‘I’ll have a first-class ticket.’
    ‘And if I’m not there?’
    ‘If you haven’t arrived three minutes before the train leaves, I’ll board it without you.’
    ‘And I’ll do the same. You didn’t mention that.’
    ‘That was implicit.’
    ‘No, no. In any operation, one can leave nothing to chance. Detail is all.’
    Amiss kept his patience. There was no point in getting on the wrong side of this old fool before the weekend had even started. He continued. ‘We will leave the train at Market Harborough and catch the six-twenty-seven to The Bottoms, where we will be met by pony and trap and taken to Shapely Bottom Hall.’
    ‘And the clothes, the clothes. You haven’t forgotten about the clothes?’
    ‘Dinner jacket, hacking jacket, Wellingtons, Barbour and all the accoutrements.’
    ‘Make sure you don’t forget anything. Reggie is very particular.’
    ‘Only a cad comes improperly clad,’ chimed in Amiss cooperatively, having heard the phrase perhaps ten times in the preceding twenty-five minutes of telephonic fuss.
    ‘All right.’ Beesley sounded reluctant to let go, but even he had run out of minutiae. ‘Perhaps we should talk about arrangements for returning.’
    ‘We’ll have ample time to do that during our journey.’
    ‘If we both catch the same train.’
    ‘Even if we don’t catch the same train, Tommy, we’ll still have plenty of time to discuss it during the weekend. Forgive me, I have to rush. If I don’t put my dinner jacket into the cleaners now it won’t be back in time for Friday.’
    That horrifying possibility did the trick. ‘Go immediately, you must go immediately.’
    ‘Thanks, Tommy. Goodbye, I look forward to Friday.’
    ‘Goodbye. Oh, just…’
    Amiss put the phone down firmly and dialled his friend Detective Sergeant Ellis Pooley.
    ‘It’s like old times, raiding your wardrobe. So that’s a hacking jacket, is it? Hmm, I hadn’t realized you still rode.’
    Pooley was rummaging in a chest of drawers. ‘Ah, here we are. A proper stock. Do you know how to wear it?’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
    Pooley fussed at Amiss’s neck for a couple of minutes and then pushed him towards the mirror.
    ‘My