Tempering the Blade by Frank Rockland

Author:Frank Rockland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC014040, FIC032000, FIC002000, FIC000000, FICTION / Historical / World War I, FICTION / War & Military, FICTION / Historical, FICTION / Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9780991705092
Publisher: Sambiase Books
Published: 2022-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

JULY 14, 1917

THACKERAY HOTEL, GREAT RUSSELL STREET, LONDON

Llewellyn took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves as he stepped out of his cab in front of the Thackeray Hotel. He gave the British Museum a glance as he handed the driver a shilling for the fare. Most of the visitors on the museum’s front steps were dressed in khaki, since it was a popular tourist attraction for those on leave. He, however, didn’t have any intention of spending any of his seven-day leave there; he had other plans.

It had been a short ride from Charing Cross train station to the hotel. If he had known how short, he would have walked because it was, for London, a warm, comfortable July day. Then again, a long walk would have given him more time to fret. He was surprised at how nervous he was as he stood before the five-storey grey cement building with red brick accents. There were bay windows alternating with square panes of glass running from the bottom floor to the top. He then hefted his haversack and headed for the Thackeray Hotel’s entrance. When he stepped through the arched oak door into a small foyer, an elderly clerk at the concierge desk raised his eyes. He studied first Llewellyn’s haversack draped with his greatcoat, then his officer’s stars on his shoulder boards, and then the Canada, the 1st Division, and 2nd Brigade flashes on his field jacket.

“How may I help you, Colonel?” he asked.

“I’m here to see Matron Lonsdale. I’ve been informed she is residing here?”

“Of course, sir. If you would give me a moment,” replied the clerk as he flipped through the hotel’s register. He paused when he found Samantha’s name. “Yes, she is staying at this establishment. What is this in regard to?”

Llewellyn quirked a brief smile. He knew the man was being protective of his hotel’s guests. “It is a personal matter. If you would send her a message that I’m here, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course. Who would I say is waiting for her?”

“James. She’ll know who it is.”

“If you take a chair, I’ll inform her of your presence,” the concierge said, pointing to the small waiting area to his left, which had rattan chairs and a table covered with tourist pamphlets that sat on a dark oriental rug.

“Thank you,” replied Llewellyn. “By the way, would you have a room available for the next seven days?”

“Do you have a reservation at our establishment?”

“I did send a ’gram before I left on leave. Your hotel’s reply was that you were booked solid. I was wondering, might there be a cancellation?” asked Llewellyn. According to the hotel’s ad he had read, it had two hundred rooms with the tariff starting at $2.00 per day. It boasted it had a passenger lift, electric lights in every room, and bathrooms on every floor. It had the usual dining, reading, writing, drawing, billiard, and smoking rooms. The one thing it didn’t have was a bar. After all, it was a temperance hotel.

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