The Revolutionary War: Book V of the Royal Sorceress series by Christopher G. Nuttall

Author:Christopher G. Nuttall
Format: epub

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Gwen didn’t relax – she didn’t dare – until she got the team back to the warehouse, then slipped back into the streets and made her way to Irene’s shop. There appeared to be a great deal of confusion – the underground had hinted there might be other strikes, carried out to distract attention from her activities – but more and more police and soldiers were taking up positions on the streets. She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the shop and closed the door behind her. It wasn’t perfectly safe, but it was better than nothing.

“You stink,” Irene said. “What have you been doing?”

“I need to wash.” Gwen said. Her clothes stank of opium. She hoped the rest of the team had the sense to wash and change their clothes too. “We got in, did the deed and got out again.”

“Don’t waste water,” Irene advised. “We don’t know if they’ll keep the water running or not.”

Gwen nodded stiffly as she stepped into the washroom, feeling the adrenaline slowly flowing out of her body. It had hardly been the first time she’d faced the enemy, and the unknown, but there’d been too much that could have gone spectacularly wrong. She dreaded to think what would have happened if there’d been more guards and magicians defending the office block, or if the Seers had been more capable of defending themselves. The opium fog had been quite bad enough and that had been a largely passive defence. She stripped off her clothes one by one and dumped them in a basket, reflecting ruefully she’d have to wash them later. The thought made her snort in cold amusement. The idea of a lady of her class washing her own clothes … her mother would sooner go to a house of ill repute than do domestic chores, certainly not where anyone could see her. It would be a clear sign the family finances had collapsed quite some time ago.

We’d be expected to quietly withdraw to the countryside and pretend we were going into retirement, rather than hanging around and embarrassing everyone, she thought. And I’d be expected to marry someone with money …

She sobered, feeling a twinge of regret. She missed Bruce dreadfully. His kisses, his strong arms, his hands touching her in places no girl was supposed to know existed … she snorted, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of her own world. It was one thing to be ignorant of the details of male anatomy, but to wilfully ignore what she saw when she looked at herself in the mirror …? Absurd.

He’s probably having a grand time with the army, she told herself. It wasn’t that bad. She could cope. She’d hardly be the first wife to have to wait behind while her man went off to war. She even had the advantage of a mission of her own, rather than staying in the house and doing nothing. And when he comes home we can get married.

She put the

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