Free The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) by Stella Riley Page A

his own.   ‘And now perhaps we can return to the business which brought me here?’
    ‘Blackmailing me into supplying arms to Charles Stuart’s Scotch army?’
    ‘Granting me the only thing I’ve ever asked of you.’
    ‘Don’t split hairs!   If I was caught assisting the invasion --’
    ‘You won’t be.   Just load the things I’ve asked for on to a cart, cover it with canvas and let me drive it away.   You have my word that no one will ever know where it came from.’   Ashley paused and then added dryly, ‘A miniature arsenal is no use to you, James … but at this precise moment in time, it would mean a great deal to me.   And in return for it, I’m prepared to disappear for good.’
    ‘That’s generous of you,’ mocked James.   ‘Your precious army must be very badly equipped.’
    ‘It could certainly be better.   Are you going to let me have the things I asked for … or shall we return to the subject of my letters to Jenny so you can admit that she never had them.   For she didn’t, did she?’
    ‘I don’t know what --’
    ‘Yes, you do – just as I always know when you’re lying.’   Ashley waited and, when no reply was forthcoming, added blightingly, ‘Adding spite to stupidity, James?   Since you presumably read the letters, you knew that there was no reason to with-hold them other than your determination to take anything that was mine – including Jenny’s affection.’
    ‘That’s not true! I never did so.   And you can’t--’
      ‘I think,’ said Ashley softly, ‘you would be ill-advised to predict what I can and cannot do.   I also think that, if you want to be rid of me as quickly as possible, you will give me what I asked for.’
    The message was perfectly clear.   James’s hands clenched at his sides and he wished he could smash one of them into his brother’s face.   Ashley’s expression told him that this would be a mistake.   Seething, he drew a long painful breath and said curtly, ‘Very well.   Wait here while I see to it. I don’t want you --’
    ‘To advertise my presence unnecessarily?   I think you’ve made that abundantly clear.’   Ashley dropped back into a chair.   ‘In which case, I imagine I can rely on you not taking all day over it.’
    James cast him a glance of acute dislike and stamped from the room, shutting the door with a distinct snap.
    Ashley gazed around him at the impressive array of books, the carved panelling and the expensive furniture. His mouth curled wryly. Whatever income his father had left him was plainly going to come in very useful if James intended to continue spending at this rate.   Then the door opened again, just a little way, and a pair of wide blue eyes examined him around it.   Ashley’s stomach tightened and he stood up.
    Elizabeth slid around the door and stood, leaning against it.   She said breathlessly, ‘Ashley.   I thought … from what the maid said, I guessed … but I had to be sure.’
    ‘That the black-sheep had returned?’   He managed something that was almost a smile.   ‘And now that you know, you may scurry away again.’
    ‘Why should I do that?’
    ‘Oh – I don’t know.   Perhaps because we have nothing to say to one another?   After all, you successfully avoiding speaking to me at all on the occasion of my last ill-timed visit … so there can be nothing worth adding now.’   He folded his arms and conducted a leisurely – and somehow faintly insulting – appraisal.   The honey-brown hair was the same, as were the long-lashed eyes.   But the girlish angles had been replaced with lush, womanly curves and her expression held a hint of restlessness.   He said, ‘That is a very … decorative … gown, Lizzie.   Were you going somewhere?’
    ‘No.’ She’d changed into it specially but didn’t want him to know that.   Nervously fingering the profusion of trimming on her bodice, she said abruptly, ‘Don’t call me Lizzie.   No one does that