The Darlington Letters by Tracy Grant

Author:Tracy Grant [Grant, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64197-060-0
Publisher: NYLA

Chapter 9

Weston stared at Raoul. "Alexander Trenor? Marchmain's youngest? He's barely down from Oxford."

"He's been down a year or two, but yes," Raoul said. "And that's more or less everyone's response."

"That's what all this is about?" Weston said.

"It seems to be part of it, at least."

Weston frowned. "Someone did mention Trenor to me in connection with the position. Cooperthwaite, I think. Yes, it was definitely he. I said the job needed someone with a bit more experience, and I was quite set on Jasper Fitzsimmons. He wasn't the first person to suggest someone for the post, so I didn't think much of it. That set them looking for information on me?"

"We're obviously missing pieces of the puzzle. But we're getting closer. Trust us a bit longer, Algy."

"I've trusted you with my life in the past, O'Roarke. I don't have much choice but to do so again now."

Raoul saw Weston out of Frances and Archie's house through the mews. Archie was out making inquiries of his own, but Fanny was in her sitting room with Chloe and the babies. Raoul stopped to drink a cup of tea with them, wrestle on the hearth rug with Chloe's dog, and hold both Francesca and Philip. They were growing by the day, seemingly, but both still fit in the curve of his forearm.

"You look very natural," Frances said.

"I'm a good actor," he reminded her.

He left the house shortly after for the brief walk to Berkeley Square, his mind filled with images of a future that had once seemed impossible. The baby would be here in little more than a month. He knew a lot more than when he'd anticipated Malcolm's birth with a mixture of joy and trepidation. Enough to be at once reassured and even more alarmed. He'd never anticipated sitting beside the woman he loved when she gave birth. And if a part of his mind wondered what was happening in Spain, questioned if he'd left sufficient instructions for his agents there, he knew beyond a doubt where he needed to be. Not to mention where he wanted to be.

He felt himself smile as he turned down an alley to cut through to Berkeley Street. Picturing Laura's face. Which was probably why he caught the flash of movement to his right a split second too late. Two men rushed him. He dodged to the side, but one caught him a glancing blow that sent him spinning against the rough boards of the building opposite.

He spun to the side as the other man charged at him. His coat caught on the splintery wood and jerked him back. The fabric tore as he wrenched away. He grabbed a loose board and hit the first attacker over the head. The second man grabbed his shoulder from behind. His coat tore again, this time as he whirled away from a knife. He spun round and pinned the first man in a flying tackle. The second man lunged for him. He braced for impact, but the second man went flying across the alley.

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