To Love a Traitor by JL Merrow Read Free Book Online Page A

you want an honest answer, or a courageous one?”
    She stared at him coolly. “What makes you think they’re not one and the same? Only a fool isn’t afraid when going into danger.”
    “All right, then. I won’t deny I’m a trifle nervous. But I’m not backing out. I owe this to Hugh, and to Mabel. And, well, to myself.”
    “Good man. And I’m glad to hear you say so. I’d hate to think we were bullying you into it, Sir Arthur and I, trying to relive our wartime days.”
    “No. Far from it. And I want to thank you. For helping me with this.”
    She laughed. “Oh, don’t thank me. Thank the old man. You know, I believe he rather misses all this.” Her voice turned wistful.
    “And what about you?” Roger dared to ask. “Should you prefer to be hunting down spies, rather than making appointments for Sir Arthur?”
    “Right now, I should prefer to be giving this excellent sole the attention it deserves. No, thank you,” she added to the waiter as he made to refill her wineglass. “I never have more than one glass.”

Chapter Five
    December, 1920
    Sunday dawned bright and crisp, and George Johnson, né Roger Cottingham, felt almost queasy with excitement as he looked out of the hotel window for the last time. Was this how men in the trenches had felt in anticipation of going over the top? Of course, the danger, if any, that George faced was negligible by comparison. But God, to finally be able to do something!
    He had little enough to pack and found he had time on his hands before he could start lugging his things over to Allen Street—Mrs. Mac’s exhortation to “come after church” not having been forgotten. By eleven o’clock, however, he was fed up with twiddling his thumbs, and made his way over there, hoping someone would be at home. His bags having appeared to mysteriously double in weight en route, he soon regretted his impulsive decision to take the Hampstead Line train rather than going to the expense of taking a cab. He decided firmly that if the house should turn out to be empty, he’d simply have to camp out on the doorstep until someone returned.
    Fortunately, his knock was answered by a tousle-headed Matthew, who beamed at George as if his arrival had made the day complete. “Come in, come in! I was hoping you’d be here early. Need a hand with anything? Mrs. Mac and Miss Lewis are still at church, but they should be back within the hour.”
    George found himself smiling back at the man without any great effort on his part. “I’m relieved to find you in, then. I did wonder if that’d turn out to be the one drawback of this place—being forced out of bed to go to church on pain of no Sunday dinner!” From the enticing aroma of roasting meat that suffused the house, it might even be a sacrifice worth making.
    “Good Lord, no! Mrs. Mac does drop the occasional little hint or three, but in general she’s quite understanding of the godless habits of young men nowadays. No, I’m afraid that for me, my Sunday lie-in is sacrosanct. Easter and Christmas, I’ll do my duty, but I claim the rest of the year off for good behaviour. I’ll take it from your presence here that you’re of like mind?”
    “Er, yes,” George agreed a little guiltily. It had been a long time since he’d felt comfortable in church.
    “Excellent! I’ll take this bag, then—good Lord!” he exclaimed, hefting it. “What on earth have you got in here—bricks?”
    George grinned. “Well, you did have to pick the heaviest one.” Yes, that was the right tone to take: light and teasing. “It’s books, actually. Unfortunately, becoming a solicitor involves a fair amount of studying.”
    “It’s a good thing I never had any leanings in that direction, then,” Matthew said as he lugged the bag up the stairs, which creaked more than ever under the load. “I’m sure all my old schoolmasters viewed me as some awful punishment for their sins in a past life.”
    “Now that I doubt,” George said, laughing