Inside the carriage, cosseted by the lace-edged curtains and pampered by the purple velvet lining, Lord Hemnen of Carmun frowned blackly as he checked the position of the minute hand on his gold-gilted pocket watch.
With an exclamation of impatience, he drummed his feet on the floor of the carriage. The thumping noises were loud, and his feet bored, and involuntarily he stretched his legs. Just then, the back left wheel jolted on a rut in the uneven cobbles, and his head cracked neatly on the flimsy wooden roof.
The carriage halted, again, and the chauffeur turned slowly.
“Y’a’right, sir?” he queried anxiously.
“Keep driving!” snapped Lord Hemnen, black smoke puffing from his flared nostrils.