Excerpts from The Servant of Stone
Stella gets into Trouble
She took a large breath, and sure enough, his gaze fell to her chest. God, she loved predictability. She threw the short branch, but not at his head but at his hand.
Not expecting it, the pistol dropped and he shook his hand at the same time as she jumped up and raced away from him. Her cry for Beckworth was loud enough to be heard in London.
She heard his steps behind her.
“Stop. I’ll shoot. I don’t care what Gemini says.”
She was pretty sure he was lying, but she glanced around, searching for another path, not seeing an easy way out of this when a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed her around the waist. She could have collapsed with relief when Beckworth whispered in her ear, “Scream my name one more time. I kind of like the sound of it.”
Beckworth and the Gift
He fished in his pocket for the small paper-wrapped object he’d been carrying with him since before Saint-Malo. His heart pounded with an increasing staccato, and he sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, borrowing the count-to-ten method AJ deployed in times of stress. Then he chastised himself. It was a trinket. That’s all. And before he made more of it than it was, he cleared his throat. “I saw this in a shop when I was buying supplies.”
She finished storing a cook pot before glancing his way, then her eyes lit on what he held. “I didn’t think you were going into Corsham.”
“This was in France before I found you. I bought the supplies, assuming we’d be on the run once we arrived in England.” He held out the small package, waiting patiently for her to realize she’d need to take it from him if she wanted to see what was inside.
Her grasp was tentative, but once she was holding it, she turned it over and over, searching for the opening. She was careful once she began to unwrap it. When the hairpin was revealed, she didn’t move.
She appeared to be blinking a lot, but he couldn’t be sure with those blasted strands of hair hiding his view. She didn’t wipe at her eyes, but she gingerly touched the pin.
“It’s beautiful.”
He barely heard the words, and that foolish feeling came over him again. “They only had a handful to choose from. This one seemed to suit you best.” God’s blood. He was selling it like it was nothing more than a new broom. But that was exactly what he wanted it to sound like. His focus had to remain on the mission.
“Well, I don’t know what the other ones looked like, but this one seems perfect.” She finger-combed her loose strands and captured them with the pin. She turned around so her back faced him, the hairpin in view.
It was perfect, just as he’d imagined.
“What do you think?”
He stared. Whatever words he’d prepared had slipped away. When several seconds went by, she tapped her foot. It was a new affectation she’d adopted while in her cell in the cargo hold. Whenever she was impatient, her foot started up.
“It will do.” The words sounded stiff, and he was being an idiot. But he was honest-to-god flustered. He nodded once, then scampered from the room.