Roses in Moonlight Read Free

through the front door.
Through
being, of course, exactly what he was doing. Apparently he hadn’t been willing to wait for someone of a more corporeal nature to open up for him.
    “Perhaps we should have looked harder,” Hugh whispered.
    “We did,” Ambrose murmured into his cup. “That one is the necessary lad.”
    Hugh sighed as the man flung his cape back over his shoulders and glanced disdainfully over the crowd as if he searched for someone in particular. Or two someones, rather.
    He pursed his lips with the vigor of a man who had sucked on a particularly tart lemon, then strode across the floor as if he were performing in a particularly passionate scene. He came to an abrupt halt next to the table and looked down his long, pointed nose at them.
    “I am Sir Richard Drummond,” he said, the crispness of his consonants slicing through the air like a finely sharpened blade. “I was told I must meet you here.” He looked around, then lifted an eyebrow as he reached out to swipe a finger across the table. “In this
place.
”
    “I can’t believe this,” Hugh muttered under his breath. “I could have found someone more suitable at Euro Disney.”
    Ambrose looked at Hugh in surprise, then had to stifle a laugh. He was inclined to agree, but decided discretion dictated that he refrain. He looked up at their guest. “How kind of you to join us.”
    Sir Richard sniffed. “Threats were issued, threats I didn’t have the time or the desire to address properly.”
    Ambrose ignored Hugh’s snort and gestured to a chair he conjured up for their guest. “Please sit and take your ease.”
    Sir Richard examined the chair for dust, took off his gloves and brushed at it a time or two, then sat down and spread out as if he’d been Henry VIII himself sitting on his throne. “Well,” he drawled, reaching up and drawing a heavy pewter mug from a spot to his right and imbibing heartily, “what did you need me for?” He looked over the rim of his mug. “Costuming ideas? You both look as if you could use a fair bit of aid.”
    Ambrose’s hand shot out and grasped Hugh by the forearm almost before the thought to do so occurred to him. Hugh glared at him, then deliberately folded his arms over his chest. Ambrose chose to ignore the fact that his left hand was tucked under his right arm where it might most readily grasp the dagger tucked into his belt. Hugh, as many a foe had found out too late, was ambidextrous. Ambrose turned back to Sir Richard.
    “I believe, friend, that our concerns might turn out to rest a little closer to home than you know.”
    Sir Richard pursed his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Don’t you?”
    “I most certainly do not.”
    Ambrose set his cup aside and placed his hands on the table in plain sight. “Then allow me to enlighten you. We’ve a task for you to accomplish—”
    “What!” Sir Richard said, drawing himself up haughtily. “Give me a task, you say? You, sir, have overstepped your bounds.”
    Ambrose continued without hesitation. “There are two who must be brought together.”
    “Who? Are we interbreeding again with McKinnons and MacLeods?” Richard asked, lacing his tone with a heavy layer of disdain. “Oh, yes, that’s right. That’s what you two are, isn’t it?”
    Ambrose stopped Hugh before he had even begun to lunge. That gave him something to do besides fling his own sweet self forward. He looked at Richard coolly.
    “There is a goodly work for you to do.”
    “Unless it requires my presence in Drury Lane, my good man, it is not goodly.”
    “Something even more interesting than that,” Ambrose assured him.
    “I can’t imagine what.”
    “Then allow me to tell you,” Ambrose said pleasantly. “There is a particular lad who needs to meet a certain lassie at a distinct point in time. There will be things that try to get in the way of that.”
    “Good sense?” Sir Richard asked politely.
    “Your big nose,” Hugh shot back,