And thought she would share the new, rough draft Prologue to see how you all like it. (Those who have read the book, do you think this is better so far?)
In Which a trust is Betrayed
The heavy London fog shrouded the world in silence and shadow. Noah Jones and his wife used it to their advantage. Protected by the darkness and a steady fall of rain they kept out of the weak light cast by the lamp posts. In the fog it looked like sickly candle light about to be stuffed out for the night.
Dressed in a simple black dress and a long overcoat, Grace Jones held tightly to her husband's hand while she continually glanced over her shoulder. Noah kept his eyes fixed in front of them, on the wet cobblestones.
“Nearly there.” When he spoke his voice should have been as muffled as the rest of the world but instead sounded like a gun shot.
“Sh!” Grace hissed.
Noah risked a glance at his wife and saw her eyes were wide, her lips a thin, tight line. He squeezed her hand in reassurance and she smiled at him.
“I'm not as worried about us,” she said, “but Peter.”
“He's safer with Brigham,” Noah said as he thought of his seven-year-old son. He briefly wondered if he'd ever see him again but then ignored the thought. He couldn't think about that now, not when he was so close to the queen. Once in the palace he could tell her about how wrong everything had gone, and get her help. Then he'd be safe, then Grace would be safe, and then they could send for Peter.
It would all be over soon. It had to. He'd failed too many already, he would not fail his son and his wife.
Something moved in the foggy shadows. A shape too short for a burned out lamp pole. Also it moved. It shifted and wavered until Noah questioned his own eye sight – and then it came into focus.
Not just any man. A man Noah knew. A man Noah trusted. Had trusted.
“You.” All of his fears about the traitor slammed into him like a steam car at full speed. He staggered to a stop as Grace pressed a black gloved hand to her lips.
“Hello, Noah. Grace.” The man bowed to them both and Noah's blood heated.
“What are you doing here?” Noah asked.
“I think you know that. You're no fool, Noah Jones.” The man was too calm. Noah knew why. He had the advantage on them.
“It was you all this time?” Grace asked. Like Noah she carried a pistol beneath her coat. But like Noah she didn't reach for it. There was too much at stake at the moment.
“I'm surprised neither of you guessed.”
“Brigham Kray.” Noah's whole body shook with rage. “Where is my son?”
“Safe. For now.” Brigham smiled. Had his smile always been that cold and Noah had never noticed before? Or had it changed so over night?
“What are you going to do with him?” Grace asked. Even through her glove Noah could feel her hands turn clammy.
“You refused to tell us anything, Noah.” Brigham kept his attention solely on Noah, though he doubted the man would miss any movement if Grace tried to draw her pistol. “I know you're no fool. You had to have told someone, and who better than your son?”
“Peter knows nothing!” Noah shouted. At the same time he hoped he spoke the truth. He'd tried so hard to keep his son safe and out of this.
“We'll see.” Brigham shrugged. “I'll keep him alive for now. Get him to trust me. After all. If he fails like you did he can meet the same fate.”
Noah saw the glint of the pistol but not in time. He heard too shots, then all noise and Brigham's shadow, faded into the night.
That is all now. I am going to try and do a book review, write and edit before bed.
Quote is from Tintin.