Free Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) by Pearl Darling Page A

like being in the forge and working the metal. Softly does it. Then I’ll come in with the hammer and separate him off.”
    Percy fiddled at the tight buttons around his neck and threw his cravat on the table. “Thank God for that. I thought you were going to expect us to hang around this house forever.”
    “Me too!”
    Only George looked unhappy. But it did not matter. Lord Granwich hadn’t spared his feelings either when he had informed him that he had to go and find Pedro.
    Bill watched as the men filed out of the door. Not once had they asked how Bill was coping with the change. Nobody did and especially not Victoria. She had probably not even spared a thought to Bill’s problems. She had been too long at that, what did she call it? Establishment in Hoxton? Bill had sat in that silly white barouche with just his thoughts and the mute Oswald to keep him company. Perched in the confines of the barouche, he had needed to run his finger around his collar to loosen it as anger surged through him.
    But waiting for her in the East End had been the only way to get Victoria alone, to persuade her that she wanted him. And that in due course she would marry him. Bill sighed. Unfortunately his own discomfort and angst had won through. Everything he had levelled at her could have referred to himself.
    Bill shook his head and stared at the wallpaper that was peeling away in innumerable places around the room. There would be time for self-pity later. He needed to get back to London to update Lord Granwich with his progress.
     
    He found Lord Granwich three days later, sitting in his favorite restaurant ‘Rules’ in Covent Garden, eating game pie. As Bill attempted to slide in unobtrusively on the opposite side of the table, he was hampered by his elbow that sent the salt bowl flying.
    Lord Granwich looked up in annoyance. “How is it that this time when you come and see me, you still manage to interrupt my enjoyment?”
    “I have an update for you.” Upending the upset bowl and its tiny spoon, Bill struggled to find the correct words. What were spies meant to say to their handlers when passing on information? Was there some sort of code that one should use?
    “Operation… Banana Skin has been set in motion.” With a huff of satisfaction, he pushed the spoon into the righted bowl.
    “Operation Banana Skin?” Lord Granwich repeated looking bewildered. “Whose banana?”
    “I have sent out six monkeys to find the banana,” Bill continued.
    Lord Granwich laid down his knife and fork reluctantly and stared hard into Bill’s face. “Standish, old chap. Are you feeling quite the thing?”
    Bill blinked. “Yes, of course. Why?”
    “Because you just came out with some nonsensical rubbish about fruit and primates. I have no idea what you are talking about, and you are still interrupting my favorite dish of rabbit pie. Please could you get to the point or leave?”
    “Err. I have the Pedro business in hand.”
    “Good. Anything else?”
    Bill had come all the way to London for that? He shrugged. “No I don’t think so.”
    “Fine. Then you can go. I won’t keep you from your business.”
    Reluctantly, Bill got to his feet, pushing back his chair with an audible squeak across the floor. He derived a small amount of satisfaction as Lord Granwich winced. “There was one thing,” he said as an afterthought. “Edward Fiske is considering your proposal and seems favorably inclined.”
    Lord Granwich looked up from the rabbit pie that he had resumed eating. Gravy dripped from his chin. “I beg your pardon?” he said in obvious disbelief.
    “Edward Fiske is—”
    “No, I heard that. But you shouldn’t know anything about that. I told Fiske not to speak to anyone about it. How did you find out?”
    This was Bill’s moment to walk away. He wasn’t going to tell Granwich that Celine had told him in an unguarded moment. Staring in fascination as a drop of gravy dripped off Lord Granwich’s chin, he couldn’t help