Peregrine's Prize

By Raven McAllan

Anyone who really knew him—like Maggie did—understood that was a façade to protect his secrets. When danger threatened his family, and his lover, he dropped the role and the real Peregrine emerged.

Now all he had to do was unmask the traitor and live happily ever after. Was it going to happen or was he destined to be alone again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight
• Release date: Nov 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781771306485

Raven McAllan

After 30 plus years in Scotland, Raven now lives near the east Yorkshire coast, with her long-suffering husband, who is used to rescuing the dinner, when she gets immersed in her writing, keeping her coffee pot warm and making sure the wine is chilled. With a new home to decorate and a garden to plan, she’s never short of things to do, but writing is always at the top of her list. Her other hobbies include walking along the coast and spotting the wildlife, reading, researching, cros stitch and trying not to drop stitches as she endeavours to knit. Being left-handed, and knitting right-handed, that’s not always easy.

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Published by Evernight Publishing at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Raven McAllan

ISBN: 978-1-77130-648-5

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JS Cook

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

As ever, to Doris, Paul, and Evernight Publishing. With a special mention to JoAnne my lovely editor for her continued help and enthusiasm.

PEREGRINE’S PRIZE

Behind Closed Doors

Raven McAllan

Copyright © 2013

Prologue

The rumblings and grumblings of his offspring were growing louder and Gerard knew he couldn't put this moment off any longer.

Glancing over at his secretary, Martin Nelson, he asked, Are they all here? The man tilted his head to the side as though assessing the sounds outside the locked study door. Cecilia's pert voice was easily discernable as she bantered with her brothers.

Miss Cecilia is there, and if she's giggling it's a certainty that Mr. Randall is teasing her. I saw Mr. Harold with his nose buried in a book in the library, so he's present. Peregrine wouldn't miss a scheduled meeting if the Regent himself tried to hold him up, and as for that youngest lad of yours, those are his dogs and where he goes, they go. I'd say they're all present.

Steepling his hands together, Gerard eyed the papers on his desk. Was he doing the right thing? You will stay on and assist Peregrine? Make sure the others have all they need?

I am in your employ, My Lord, until such time as you terminate my employment. I will do my utmost to follow your instructions.

Gerard sighed and nodded. It was time. I did my duty. I married, I sired children. Nelson's chuckle interrupted him. He quirked an inquiring brow in his secretary's direction. You find my plight amusing?

No, not at all. It's your children; you say it so prosaically, as though they were not... Well, you know your children as well as I do!

Gerard regarded the fond smile on his long time friend and employee's face. Martin Nelson had been with him since before his marriage to Penelope, since his father's death when he'd realized just how disastrous the old man's spendthrift habits had been to the family fortunes. Side by side they worked to rebuild the Brigstock family coffers, to pay off debts, and to rebuild the family position in society. We've worked hard. We deserve our reward. When I have found him, when you decide Perry can handle the situation on his own—

You mean when he's learned not to act like such a lordly prick toward his brothers and sister?

Gerard nodded again, hiding his smile at his oldest friend's assessment of his eldest son's character. Even as you say. When it's all sorted out, you'll hire your successor, and come join us?

Nelson rose from behind his smaller desk. If things work out, I may join you. If ... your friend's situation is as it appeared when last you met him.

Gerard understood Nelson's meaning clearly. The secretary spent years putting his best effort into furthering Gerard's causes, but he had his own interests to pursue as well. At this point, neither of them could tell if their courses would continue in the same traces. Well, let them in then. We'll neither of us discover our futures until it's all set in play.

Nelson didn't hesitate. The children's voices rose as he pulled the heavy door open, and then fell into silence. Nelson slipped out as the tide of Gretton children trooped into the room. Five handsome children with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, aristocratic noses, and the characteristic Gretton ear lobes. Gerard sighed. He'd done his best to establish each of his progeny on a path that suited his temperament, but the thought of leaving them to their own devices for the indefinite future didn't quite rest easily. Please, be seated. He held up a hand to forestall the explosion of sound. I have a matter of grave importance to discuss with you. I regret summoning you all in such a pompous manner, but it seemed prudent to speak to you all at once. He paused to look around the circle of chairs.

Perry sat stiffly, lips compressed in a thin line. Next to him sat Randall, perfectly at his ease in his scarlet uniform, knees crossed, tasseled Hessians gleaming, eyes twinkling. Harold sat next to his brother, and from the dreamy expression in his eyes, he either contemplated some scholarly inanity, or dreamed up some bit of mischief. Cecilia perched on the very edge of her chair, toe tapping impatiently as she twisted a handkerchief to shreds in her lap. Cecilia. He had somehow failed in his duty with her. Girls her age should have been long since married and providing heirs for their husbands, but Cecilia hadn't taken, as it were, and though she appeared quite popular, had inexplicably not received any acceptable proposals.

You did your best, he reminded himself. Seven seasons, a tour of the continent, visits to Brighton and Bath, and house parties innumerable. In another year the girl would be twenty-five and she could take up residence in the house her mother left to her on her death. To Cecilia's disgust the residence was in Tunbridge Wells. He'd provided the same allowance for Cecilia as for his sons in order to cover just such an eventuality.

His attention was drawn from his musings about Cecilia's fate as a spinster when a minor scuffle ensued between his youngest son, Nash, and Cecilia that apparently involved some kicking and flying elbows. Children! He scolded. Nash was such a scamp, always getting into mischief of one kind or another. This is serious business. Save your bickering for later.

Perhaps, Father, if you would... Perry paused meaningfully.

Yes. Of course. I'm leaving. He announced boldly and waited for responses. They exchanged bewildered glances. Again, it was Peregrine who broke the silence.

Would you like us to accompany you to the country, father? It isn't exactly convenient right now.

Gerard waved him impatiently to silence. No. I'm leaving the country. I've some old friends I want to look up, and many places I've never been. I sent each of you on a Grand Tour, but when I was of the age for it, my family hadn't the funds to send me. Now, everything here is in order, and you are all well. You don't need me. Each of you is independent, and none of you wants me interfering in your lives. So, I'm going to travel, look for my friend, and enjoy myself. He cast a glance over each stunned face in turn. Cat got your tongues, eh? I've done my duty by this family since I was nineteen. I'm turning fifty soon, and I think it's my turn to enjoy life. Perry, I'm leaving you power of attorney to run the estates.

He forestalled Perry's moment of triumph by continuing. Under the direction of Nelson. He has my authority to naysay anything too outrageous. The rest of you, I've set up your allowances to be paid quarterly. If there is a problem, you may direct correspondence to me through Nelson. I advise you to do your best to live within your means, because neither he nor Perry will be able to bail you out if you take a swim in River Tick. That's all. You may go now. He held his breath as they rose, and pretended to study the papers on his desk. It was too much to hope that the lot of them would just troop on out and let him get on with finding Jonathon.

When?

Pardon? He glanced up at Nash, his youngest child, the jack-a-napes who courted scandal assiduously in the tradition of younger sons everywhere.

When are you going?

Was that regret or sorrow in the boy's eyes? In the morning. Good boy, that Nash. High-spirited as hell, but a heart of gold.

And when will you return? Harold piped in, focusing his gaze on his father for the first time since entering the room. Gerard hadn't been at all certain that his dreamer son even understood that he was leaving.

I’m not certain. It depends on whether I find my friend, and once I find him, whether I can convince him to return with me. He caught Randall's startled look of cognition. Yes. He knew Randall understood the significance of his words. Yes, exactly, Randall. I had no choice, you understand, as I had no brothers to take my place. You're fortunate in that Perry and Nash are so eager to propagate the family name.

I wish you every success on your journey then, father. Randall bowed deeply and followed his younger brother from the room. Cecilia crossed the room and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He patted her head briefly. Now then, my girl. No need for you to be concerned. I've set things up for you. You'll have your pin money as always, and the use of any of the houses. Perry will look after you. I don't suppose you've found a husband yet? he teased his only daughter.

I’m afraid I'm not actually looking. You know, I'm quite old enough to look after myself. The apple of his