32. Tasty Sheep's Feet

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Just at that moment, far below, a man stepped out into the courtyard below. He was followed by another, and another. The guests were setting out to hunt. More and more of them emerged from the house until, finally, he came. Mr Rikkard Ambrose stepped out into the courtyard, as dark and menacing upon the snow as a raven among a flock of sparrows.

'Yes,' I murmured, unable to help myself. 'He certainly is intriguing.'

Lady Caroline sidled closer, gazing down at him. Below, Mr Ambrose pulled his rifle from his back, checked it in one swift, sharp move and grabbed the nearest horse by the reins, swinging himself onto the animal's back.

'Tell me, Mr Linton,' Lady Caroline purred, letting her fingers slide down my arm in a way that made me want to douse the appendage in vinegar, 'what is Mr Ambrose like? What is his favourite food? What are his tastes in art and music? What kind of woman do you think he would prefer to have at his side? If you give me your insights, I can prove very...generous.'

Ah, so this was her game, was it? Inwardly, I smiled. I'd say 'two can play that game' – but that wouldn't be entirely correct. Only one could play this game: me. Because I was the only one who knew all the rules.

Let's have a little fun...

And let's hope Mr Ambrose never finds out about it.

'Oh, well, Lady Caroline, if you ask so nicely...' I did my best to make my voice sound breathy and seduced. It wasn't easy. 'Mr Ambrose's favourite food...'

'Yes?'

'Mr Ambrose's favourite food are sheep's trotters.'

'What?'

'Sheep's trotters.' I made walking movements in the air with my fingers. 'You know, boiled sheep's feet? I hear they are sold by street vendors in London on every corner.'

'Boiled...sheep's feet?'

'Oh yes.' I smiled at her brightly. 'He eats at least a dozen a day. Can't have enough of them.'

'Ng.'

'What's wrong, Lady Caroline? Don't you feel well?'

'No, no. I'm perfectly all right.'

'I'm glad to hear that.'

'So...what about his literary tastes?' She gifted me with another charming, seductive smile, though it looked a little more forced this time. Or should I say sheepish? 'What books does he enjoy?'

'Hm...' I thought for a moment. To be honest, I had never seen Mr Ambrose with a book other than his account and date book. But whoever said I was planning to be honest? 'If I remember correctly, he is a great admirer of the The Ripley Scrolls.'

Lady Caroline's perfectly arched eyebrows drew together in a ladylike frown. 'The...Ripley Scrolls?'

'Oh yes, they are very dear to his heart.'

I wondered how long it would take her to find out that The Ripley Scrolls were an obscure medieval manuscript describing how to turn lead into gold. Probably very, very long.

'I see. Thank you, Mr Linton. Anything else?'

'Well, he has always been a big admirer of the Rohonc Codex.'

She smiled, trying to pretend as if she had the slightest idea what I was talking about. 'Really? I've always been interested in that work myself. I must read it immediately.'

I smiled back. 'Good luck with that.'

Especially considering that it's written in an as-yet-undeciphered alphabet consisting of over two hundred unknown letters, and the only existing copy was donated to the Hungarian Academy of Sciences a few years ago.

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