The Art of Deception
or Pride and Extreme Prejudice
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. This week continues a spy story set in late Georgian England, the year before Trafalgar. Last week, they exchanged words, and Roderick gave her a French recognition signal, which she accidentally – or perhaps on purpose, answered. This week she returns the favour. They’ve exchanged words and she’s walking off – to do whatever housemaids do.
He waited a few seconds and followed her; as he watched from a distance, she put a small piece of paper under a stone near a street corner, and then marked the wall with chalk; it didn’t take her long, and had he not been watching her carefully he’d have missed the whole thing.
“Come on you laggard,” Roderick called to his friend, “We’ve got her; she’s a real professional … one of the smoothest dead-drops I’ve ever seen.” He dashed up, took the paper from under the stone, and started to read it.
“See, Edward, it is a count of the ships; profes-”
He didn’t get to finish his statement; a member of the militia, delegated to watch the docks, tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Sir, if you’d please; you’re coming with us.” Another soldier stood behind him, ready to back him up should force be required.
“We think you’re a spy … information has been laid to that effect.”
“What do you mean?” Roderick rapidly looked around, and then saw the chit, still carrying her basket, standing a few yards away; she smiled at him, mockingly curtsied, and then turned to continue her daily chores.
Would you have noticed the chalk mark?
I’ve released a sweet regency romance, Miss DeVere This is a fun read.
Frankenkitty is available.
What happens when teenagers get to play with Dr Frankenstien’s lab notebooks, a few odd chemicals and a great big whopping coil? Mayhem, and possibly an invitation to the Transylvanian Neuroscience Summer School.
 Good day Miss, isn’t it? The little birds are flying in a cloudy sky. She replied, “But it’s clear. Where are you going Sir?”