Epilogue
Shortly after the ship bearing the Marquess of Langford and the household of his newlywed son departed Portsmouth, a new vessel nosed into port bearing cotton, spices, and tea from India.
From it descended a tall, black-haired officer with a rugged look to him that could not be traced to any dishevelment of his person.
His uniform was neat, his boots polished, his face closely shaved, his sleek black hair pulled back in a queue.
But his luggage was exceedingly light for a man who laid claim to being a gentleman, and there was no overabundance of coin in his pocket, save those that had been given him to transport and guard the Indian boys in his care, the sons of Tipu Sultan and their servants, hostages and surety that the King of Mysore would adhere to the recent treaty.
The soldier’s bright blue eyes, a distinct color shared by certain members of his family, were shadowed with a careful blankness as of veiled secrets.
The sallow undertone of his complexion suggested that, for all that he had been in tropical climes, he had not been exposed to much sunlight of late.
He paused on the wharf and turned his face to the sky, as if he had not set foot in his homeland for some time.
His name met with surprise from the official holding the shipping manifest, who divulged that a family with that name had sailed just that morning.
“I shall be sorry to miss them, if that’s the case,” said the stranger.
“Ye know ’em, major?” the officer asked, noting his officer’s insignia.
“After a fashion,” the major replied.
Major Lord Lucien Bales, Earl of Aldthorpe, would be surprised to discover he was a dead man.
His family would be more surprised that he wasn’t.