Reckless Rules (Brambridge Novel 4) by Pearl Darling

old man—if you could just fetch us some?” Bill had had enough.
    Freddie thumped his empty cup back down on the sideboard and gave a dramatic huff as he left the room.
    “That’s Lord Lassiter—you can’t speak to him like that!” said Percy of the black eye as Freddie disappeared through the door.
    “I would just shut up and not bite the hand that feeds you, Perce,” Bill said wearily. “He is getting you a steak after all.”
    “I’d rather eat the steak.” George sat next to Percy. His stomach grumbled audibly. “I haven’t eaten for days, and my shoulder hurts.”
    Bill closed his eyes and opened them again, hoping that his men would perhaps vanish. Bit of course they didn’t. They were the last three to arrive back and report from the six that he had sent out. Between them they boasted two broken arms, one case of severe food deprivation, one case of pneumonia, two black eyes and five cases of bent pride.
    And no information whatsoever.
    It’s easy, Henry had said. Just send out your most trusted individuals. He had done that. And they had come back as broken as fragile branches after a storm.
    He waved at them. “Lord Lassiter has set up some rooms for you above his stables. I’ll send over some food. The others are already there, they arrived yesterday.” He caught George’s sleeve as he made to get up with the rest. “Stay please, George. I’d like a word.”
    George nodded silently and waited as the others left the room, pleased that they had a good rest and food ahead of them.
    Bill got up from his chair and closed the door behind them. He leaned against it. “What went wrong? Why has no one got any information, and why have you all turned up in such a state?”
    George sat silently and started as his stomach rumbled again. He smiled weakly. “I’d think better on a fuller stomach.”
    “Rubbish! You are simply procrastinating.” Bill knew his butler too well. He had been his apprentice at the forge for the longest before becoming his butler.
    “I think,” George said ponderously. “I think that we didn’t prepare very well for the situations in which we found ourselves.”
    Bill snorted. “Evidently.”
    “No thanks to you.”
    Bill leaned forward and took George by the lapels of his coat. “What do you mean?”
    George put out his hands and gently unhooked Bill from his coat. “We went out to find out information about a dangerous man. Six erstwhile smiths that had been trying to do household jobs who were now excited to be spies for the Crown.” George smiled crookedly. “What did we know about spying?”
    “As much as I do.” Bill stretched his neck. He did not want to mention the operation banana debacle to George.
    “I beg to differ, Mr. Standish .” George folded his arms. “You seem to always have more information at your fingertips than we had.”
    Bill frowned. He found out the information. That is what spies did.
    “You move among us and them comfortably.”
    That was not true. He wasn’t comfortable any more, with either rich or poor. Neither treated him equally.
    “And you have had practice.”
    Bill supposed that he had been controlling the trade route between France and Brambridge for a long time—and that had meant much contact with Henry and Granwich. “So you are saying that because you didn’t have any of this, none of you could come up with any information, and you all ended up injured?”
    George pursed his lips. “N…o I wouldn’t quite say it so bluntly. I would agree that none of us are cut out to be spies. You know how Lord Granwich played me and winkled all that information out about your activities.”
    Bill nodded. He well knew.
    “And how Percy complains all the time? That didn’t stop when he went out looking for information. It just brought him trouble in the shape of a black eye.”
    “So he didn’t get that injury in the course of trying to find anything out?”
    “No. He was complaining about the beer in an inn in Dorset. They