After you gather up Brute, a few casual inquiries about the Court inform you that a goodly party of nobles will be returning from a fox hunt within the hour. If Bisqueath isn't among their number, you reason, likely you'll find someone who can point you towards the titan of tax.
You place yourself by the eastern gates, through which they should return. When the hunting party does at last return, dozens strong with a pack of panting hounds, you feel quite clever when you spy Lord Bisqueath among the pack, cutting quite a figure in his ascot and his jodhpurs.
You leap into a rendition of Pox on the Fox that draws their attention. Laughter and bright faces shine back at you, by and large. After your success in the duel it's become fashionable to treat you well.
When you see Lord Bisqueath himself marking you, you direct a meaningful flick of the head towards him as he rides, and you see his jaw set in recognition (or perhaps indigestion) as he continues to ride on.
Indeed, moments after the party passes for the stables, a maidservant for His Lordship comes back to you with a message to appear by the Pool of Globes in a quarter-hour.
Land sakes; that's on the far end of the grounds, and your legs are already throbbing. By the time this day is done you'll have walked every inch of Westfenster Palace.