Free A Charm of Magpies 03 Flight of Magpies by Kj Charles

without anything going terribly wrong, and he had done that in a quite satisfactory manner.
    Now he had a lover and a life that still seemed the stuff of fantasy, and it was driving him to distraction. Every minute he spent with Lucien was stolen from his duty, every minute on the job was a theft from his lover, everything he did left something more important undone.
    I wish I had time for him , Stephen thought miserably. I wish… He couldn’t wish to leave the job. Not knowing all there was to do, all the people who needed him, his duty. But I wish to God I could.
    Stephen turned a corner into the icy wind, huddling into his heavy topcoat. He was trying to think of ways to make more hours in each day as he stepped onto the Strand, and saw Crane in smiling, flirtatious conversation with an attractive young man.

Chapter Five
    Crane had had a thoroughly unrewarding day. The messages he’d sent for Stephen had gone unanswered, as usual, and since he had no desire to be within fifty miles of Esther Gold when she learned that his manservant had deflowered her charge, he had not felt able to take Saint’s alibi elsewhere. Not that he was much looking forward to putting the matter to Stephen.
    He had visited Leonora, gone to the gymnasium, and done several hours’ desultory work in the office to kill the time before he might expect Stephen to return, and he was striding along the Strand towards home, considering precisely how he would word his explanation, when he heard the call.
    “Excuse me, sir?”
    Crane stopped under a gas lamp and turned as a young man hurried up with something white in his hand. “I think you dropped your handkerchief.”
    Crane glanced at the little square of linen. It was definitely one of the vast stocks of handkerchiefs they’d brought from Piper, with a small magpie embroidered in the corner. He couldn’t imagine how he’d dropped the thing. “Yes, that’s mine. Thank you.” He took it, except that the other man didn’t release his grip, and Crane looked at the fellow’s face in surprise.
    He was worth looking at. Midtwenties, perhaps, with slightly shaggy, windswept black hair, shot through with a streak of early grey on one side. It was a lopsided but rather attractive feature. Not tall, but substantially larger than Stephen—who wasn’t?—with an athletic build. And he had a face made for misbehaviour, with deep blue laughing eyes, and a wide mouth curving into an irrepressible grin.
    Good God , Crane thought appreciatively. This country’s breeding them better these days.
    He tugged again at the handkerchief. The other man pulled back, a look of mischief sparkling under dark lashes, and then released it.
    “Thank you.” Crane pocketed the handkerchief with a smile.
    “Oh, it was no trouble.” The young lovely returned the smile, along with a lingering glance. “In return, could I beg you for a match?”
    “None on me, I’m afraid. I don’t smoke.”
    “Oh, but you should. It’s the only way to protect the lungs against this cursed fog. And it’s a pleasant vice.” His grin widened. “Perhaps not the most pleasant.”
    “Indeed not,” Crane batted back. “Not while there’s drink.”
    A wicked smile glinted in the gaslight. “Of course. And would you care to come and take a glass with me, sir? Perhaps at my lodgings?”
    “Ah…no,” Crane said, with a little regret. “I think not.”
    “Really?” The lovely’s deep blue eyes met Crane’s in a darting look before his long lashes swept down again. “I’m very entertaining company.”
    “I’m sure you are. I’ve other commitments.”
    “None you can’t break, I dare say, sir.” The young man put a light hand on his forearm. “Perhaps you could spare five minutes to discuss the matter, somewhere close by?” His gaze flicked over to one of the many little alleys that ran off the Strand. Indiscreet, undoubtedly, but it was dark, and probably safe enough for a quick suck…
    In another life. Crane