His Grace the Duke of Salford arrived at Chance in his chaise and four. He was followed by a second, a little less elegant vehicle. He had been at Blanford Park for the last week where he had unexpectedly met an old friend and her husband. They had just returned from a prolonged stay in France and Sylvester had spontaneously invited the couple to spend some time with him in Chance.
Richard had seemed a little reluctant, but Julie had been instantly delighted and so the matter was decided.

Sylvester's old and loyal butler Reeth opened the huge entrance door and welcomed the duke and his guests into the house.
"Your Grace." he said indignantly. "We were not expecting you back for another week. If you had appraised us of your plans to come home earlier and bring visitors with you, we would have had everything ready for your Grace's return."
"Reeth," said Sylvester mockingly. "Are you trying to tell me, that my wife has let the house fall into utterly disorder in my absence? If that is the case, be assured that I will believe you did your best to prevent the worst."
"Certainly not, Sir. Everything is in order of course, I merely…"
But Sylvester stopped him laughingly and asked.
"By the way, where is my wife?"
With a quick glance at their guests the butler coughed a little uncomfortable and said:
"Ahem, Her Grace is not in the house at the moment."
The duke's guests found this information more than a little confusing and in fact quite odd, but his grace of Salford seemed perfectly fine satisfied with the butler's answer and smiled knowingly.
"Reeth, why don't you show our guest up to their rooms." He beckoned Julie and Richard to follow Reeth into the house, so they could get some rest before dinner was served.

Sylvester however, who had correctly interpreted his butler's discreet hint walked towards the stables. There he found his wife grooming the horse he had given her as a gift last month.
She was standing with her back towards him and did not hear him come in.
He stood there and watched her for a moment or two and finally said in a mocking tone.
"I collect, that you must be the new stable hand. But I was actually looking for my wife – have you seen her?"
Phoebe whirled around, an expression of delighted surprise on her face. She flung herself into his arms and said.
"Sylvester! You are home already. Oh, how I have missed you, Love."
Not unnaturally pleased by this very handsome greeting, the Duke wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her lovingly.
He then looked down at her and exclaimed.
"Where did you find this gown. You look positively shabby, my Darling. Oh no, and now you managed to get Hoyden's hair all over my clothes as well." His dismay was betrayed however by the fact, that he kept his arms tightly around wrapped around his shabby wife.
"Well, if you feel yourself above that, I have to add, that I find you conduct, my Lord Duke, also very unbecoming. Making up to me in the stables like that, indeed." and with these words, she playfully and without any resolution tried to disengage herself from him.

It was at that moment, when Mr. Richard Beauford entered the stables in search of his groom and found His Grace, the Duke of Salford in a compromising situation with what was obviously one of the maids or some other female servant.
Mr. Richard Beauford, who was not accustomed to the ways of the nobility and disapproved very much of their lax morals was utterly shocked. He felt, that he could not very well tell the Duke in his own house, how he was to conduct himself, but what he definitely could do, was to show his disapproval.
"Forgive me." he said acidly. "Am I interrupting something?"
While the girl at least had the decency to blush, the duke did not show any embarrassment at all and did not even release the girl from his grasp.
Sylvester met Mr. Beaufords disgusted look with some amusement and returned his attention to the girl.
"See how you still manage to blacken my reputation? Now I am even being accused of making up to the maids."
"Oh, hush." said the girl and blushed even more. "You are quite abominable, Sylvester."
She then freed herself from her husband's embrace and turned towards Beauford.
"I beg your pardon, Sir. You must excuse my appearance." she said. "I was not aware that we had guests." she then cast an impatient look at her husband, who seemed to be rather enjoying the situation.
"Oh," he said, as if he had briefly forgot what was expected of him. "Beauford, my I present you my wife, the Duchess of Salford? Phoebe, this is Mr. Beauford."
Now it was Mr. Beauford's turn to be utterly embarrassed. He stammered an incoherent apology and was clearly at a loss.
But Phoebe just laughed and said, that it was of no consequence and that she would now take herself of to make herself more presentable.
Sylvester welcomed this suggestion very much and asked her to throw the gown she presently wore away.