I love him dearly, and he is a true gentleman, but he has no idea.I rather liked the idea of travelling with Dora, in a situation where we could say a... we pleased, with Lawrence unable to hear us, committed as he was to driving the coach. We had spent the first day discussing all manner of matters that would have appalled Father.That night we'd stopped at a country inn. A comfy place, though perhaps less than clean. Lawrence would not allow us to step into the public areas of the inn, and we. "You changed the prints, didn't you, Jack?" he said abruptly as he walked over to sit down opposite me across an empty table. He slammed down a folder."Prints?" I asked disingenuously."Fingerprints," he snapped.I looked down at my hands curiously. "I didn't know that could be done," I said, deliberately misunderstanding. "Has plastic surgery become that advanced?"He glared at me. "The records, not your fingers," he said. "You changed them, didn't you?" How would I do that, sir?" I asked. More

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