Roses in Moonlight Read Free Page A

“poking itself in places it don’t belong whilst ignoring the places it should be poking itself!”
    Sir Richard shot him a look of undisguised antipathy, then turned back to Ambrose. “Do tell.”
    Ambrose slid a carefully cut piece of parchment across the table and waited until Sir Richard had read it before he spoke.
    “There are the particulars for the young woman. On the reverse is a description of the young man. Try not to mistake him for anyone else.”
    Sir Richard curled his lip. “I doubt that’s possible, unless he’s up to his usual tricks of disguise.”
    “One never knows,” Ambrose conceded. He looked at Sir Richard pointedly. “Fail, and you know what the reward will be.”
    Sir Richard looked for the briefest of moments slightly pale, but that passed quickly enough. He tossed both the parchment and his mug into oblivion, then rose. He wrapped his cape around himself and looked down at them coldly.
    “I will do what you have requested because it suits me,” he said. “No other reason.”
    And with that, he swept out of the pub. Ambrose watched him go and considered the encounter. It hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped nor as poorly as he’d feared. He sat back and reached for his ale. He would, of course, oversee the entire affair as best he could, but there were things he simply wouldn’t be able to control, places he perhaps could have gone but dared not go.
    “Does he know?” Hugh asked, his face scrunched up thoughtfully. “What will happen if he fails?”
    “Of course he knows.”
    “He isn’t happy about it.”
    Ambrose looked at him. “He’s an Englishman.” He paused. “Well, at least he’s playing an Englishman as a permanent role.”
    “He’s good at it.”
    Ambrose smiled. “He certainly would like to be, I imagine. We might have to make certain he’s about his business properly at first, but I daresay with what he has at stake, he won’t shirk his duties.”
    Hugh shook his head. “Ambrose, I’ll tell ye plain. I’m happier when things are a bit more removed from where we stand.”
    “And speaking of that,” Ambrose said brightly, “shall we return to the Globe and see how our current Drummond is taking these recent tidings we’ve given him?”
    “Only if I can fling things at him from the floor.”
    “Why not?”
    Ten minutes later, Ambrose was standing again in the shadows watching Richard Drummond chew the scenery. He was no longer even attempting to restrain his ego. He was absolutely furious.
    Ambrose smiled.
    All was as it should be.
    Of course, there were the usual things that still concerned him, namely trying to bring together two rather stubborn souls who might not particularly want to be brought together. But in this case, there were things that hung in the balance: lives that depended on the cooperation and, aye, it had to be said, the affection of those two sterling souls. And Richard Drummond knew it as well as anyone else.
    Ambrose conjured himself up a comfortable chair. He had the feeling it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 1
    S amantha Josephine Drummond set her suitcase upright, lifted her face to the sky, and took a deep breath of freedom.
    Well, she was actually only looking at a ceiling and sampling nothing more rarified than the air inside King’s Cross station, but she wasn’t going to complain. She was standing alone in the midst of a crowd and life was very good.
    She looked around herself to get her bearings, then glanced reluctantly at the small booklet of instructions in her hand. She supposed the fact that she was holding on to that sort of thing was her own fault. She had a smartphone and knew how to use it, and she was perfectly capable of keeping track of a plane ticket and money for a cab. Unfortunately her parents were stuck in a time warp where she was still twelve and they were eternally in their late thirties and she allowed them to keep on with it because it was easier that way.
    Or at least she had until her