Free Heirs of Ravenscar by Barbara Taylor Bradford

knew he must never overstep the line. He was well aware of his place in the order of things. And he was never over-familiar. He knew how wrong that would be.
    These three had been hand-in-glove for a long time. They thought alike, after years in each other’s company, and acted in a similar manner when confronted by problems. And they could usually second-guess each other.
    Amos rose, walked up and down the office for a few seconds, stretching his long legs. And thinking hard.
    Will Hasling was a lot more troubled that he was letting on, Amos was convinced of that. And he also knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Will would tell Edward everything tomorrow morning. And Edward would want him on it immediately.
    Amos stepped over to the window and looked out. It seemed like a nice night, with a clear, dark sky, no clouds at all, and a galaxy of stars.
    After locking his desk and taking his overcoat from the cupboard, Amos left his office and went down the stairs. He crossed the imposing, soaring marble lobby of Deravenels, as usual admiring its grandeur, and stepped out onto the Strand.
    The thoroughfare was busier than he had seen it in a long time. Taxis, motorcars and omnibuses crowded the road, and the pavement was congested with pedestrians, mostly moving swiftly, hurrying about their business. It struck him immediately that he must walk. He had no alternative since it would be hard to find a cab in this mess.
    Anyway, he did enjoy walking; it reminded him of his days on the beat, he supposed, and he usually did his best thinking when his feet were moving. Buttoning his topcoat, he set off at a brisk pace.
    Tonight he was heading to the Ritz Hotel in Piccadilly. His old friend Charlie Morran was staying there, and they were to dine in the elegant Ritz Restaurant, which was one of the best in London. He had sometimes eaten there with Edward Deravenel, and he knew it quite well.
    The hotel itself was palatial, with marble floors, rich carpets, crystal chandeliers, handsome dark-wood furniture, potted palms and huge arrangements of flowers. It was a particular favourite of the rich and famous, a rendezvous for the most well-known people in London … the aristocracy, socialites, famous actors, actresses, and writers, members ofParliament, politicians and heads of state … the crême-de-la-crême of the world.
    Amos’s thoughts remained focused on Charlie as he strode out towards Trafalgar Square. He had not seen him for over two years; the young man had been at the front in France, fighting for King and Country.
    When war had broken out in August of 1914, Charlie had immediately booked passage on a ship from New York to Southampton, and had come home to England to be a soldier. ‘I’m determined to do my bit,’ was the way he had put it to Amos when he had first arrived in London, adding, ‘I want to stand up and be counted, fight for what’s right and just. So here I am, and I’m going to enlist in the British Army this week.’ And he had.
    Charlie had come back to London alone; his sister Maisie had already left America the year before. In 1913 she had gone to live in Ireland with the man she had just married.
    Amos had grown very proud of Charlie and Maisie, and of the success they had achieved over the years. Within a few months of arriving in New York, where Charlie had constantly insisted the streets were paved with gold, the two Cockney kids from Whitechapel had found work in the theatre. And eventually they had become stars on Broadway, as they had always wanted. And why not?
    They could sing, dance, and act, and both were clever mimics, quite aside from being exceptionally good looking. Talent and looks. The best combination. It was really no surprise to Amos when Charlie’s letters kept arriving very promptly with news of their continuing triumphs.
    They had sailed away from Liverpool in 1904; then their love of London lured them back. They made many visits home