☆ ᴡᴀᴛᴛʏꜱ 2024 SHORTLISTER!! ☆
A tragic misunderstanding. A murder. A secret. An unlikely partnership. A spirited countess and an enterprising racketeer.
~~~
Manchester, England. May 1925.
The Roarin' 20s. An era of glamor, decadent parties, jazz mus...
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The following day passed much the same as the previous day had. Rose was gone by the time Liam came downstairs. No more notes. No telephone calls. No communication of any kind.
He called Eleanor from his office phone halfway through the afternoon. Rose hadn't rung the house. However, Daphne Lancaster had.
Rose was going to supper with Jimmy tonight. No matter how useful that was in Liam's plan to thwart Gallagher, he still found himself disconcerted. Rose had expressed concern regarding Jimmy's inability to keep his hands to himself. An employee doing her job or not, she didn't deserve to be molested.
He frowned, picturing Jimmy's hand moving up Rose's thigh. It didn't sit well with him. But to get involved personally would tip his hand to Gallagher.
Well, if he couldn't watch out for Rose himself, maybe he could employ someone else to watch out for her in his stead.
Resolute in his decision, Liam picked up the telephone receiver and dialed a number.
The line rang several times before a youthful, flamboyant voice greeted him. “Aye? Talk to me!”
Liam expelled an irritated sigh. “That ain't the proper way to answer Audrey's telephone, Crispin,” he scolded his youthful cousin.
“Good,” Liam said, nodding against the mouthpiece. “Put him on. Got a favor to ask him.”
【♖】
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After her shift, Rose was escorted by Jimmy to a restaurant called the Seven Bells. It wasn't upscale, per se, but Rose was glad of that as she wasn't exactly ‘dressed to dine,’ and she had no idea what excuse she could've rattled off to Jimmy had he offered to take her home so she could change.
The interior was cozy, tidy, and smelled divine. Catching a welcome whiff of blackened cod, Rose realized just how hungry she was. As she had no desire to eat in the company of William or Daphne, this date may serve a useful purpose. Two, in fact, if she was able to pry some viable information from her unwanted beau.
