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Lies of Gold–Winner of Silver for Best Historical Book 2019 (Coffee Pot Book Club)
Blurb:
Silent, ruthless, protected by an unknown ally in Whitehall, he smuggles gold across the Channel to Napoleon Bonaparte. When flimsy evidence points to the Essex coast, three men are given secret orders to find the traitor. One of those men, Julian Ashford, has his life transformed into debts and disgrace and sent back to Halton Hall, and Katherine the woman he loved and lost. What Julian discovers within the walls of his ancestral home is much deeper and more sinister than he thought possible, but nothing could prepare him for the betrayal when he finally faces the mastermind behind this sordid operation.
Buy links:
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/s?k=lies+of+gold+jan+selbourne&crid=ZPCFE9GJ8D80&sprefix=lies+of+gold+%2Caps%2C351&ref=nb_sb_ss_ac-a-p_1_13
Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lies-of-gold-jan-selbourne/1126283045?ean=9781945146268
Excerpt:
Major Julian Ashford’ looked up at the yellowing plaster ceiling and down to the clock above the mantelpiece. Thirty minutes ago, he’d entered the cluster of buildings under the control of The Secretary of State for War and walked up one flight of stairs to the office of Brigadier Sir Ian MacDonald. A corporal had pointed to a wooden bench and the clock continued to tick. Julian drew a deep breath and studied his boots.
When MacDonald finally turned around, the full force of the old soldier’s legendary temper hit him like a brick. The furious tirade continued until MacDonald stopped for breath and picked up a sheet of paper.
“Now this,” the offending item was flapped in Julian’s face. “You were drunk at a respectable gaming establishment and damn near killed a Spanish diplomat, a Spanish nobleman no less. With Napoleon Bonaparte mobilizing again and Europe on edge I cannot believe your utter stupidity.”
Julian glared at the man who had always reminded him of a powerful lion. Large and muscular with a mane of iron grey hair and fierce eyes that never wavered from their prey.
“Who claimed I nearly killed a Spanish diplomat?”
“His aide, you threatened him as well.”
Julian shrugged and looked at the floor. “The Spaniard was cheating at cards. I demanded to see his hand, he refused so I challenged him to go outside for satisfaction.”
“You broke his nose and three ribs and knocked him senseless,” MacDonald’s fist slammed into the desk. “I am thoroughly ashamed of you. Your debts go back over twelve months and now the Jews refuse you credit. One damned scandal after the other. I’m told you had sex with Rutherford’s wife in her sitting room while he was upstairs playing cards!”
“Rutherford’s wife was more than willing. What would you have done? Refuse the lady?” Julian scowled at the Brigadier. “Who fed that juicy snippet into your waiting ears?”
“I will not tolerate your insolence, sir! You are a disgrace to your regiment.”
“I’m no longer in the regiment,” Julian snapped. “Don’t prose on about it.”
MacDonald’s face turned dark red. “You deserve to rot in a cell,” he picked up a thick folder. “Your service records. The only reason I am begging their Lordships’ indulgence to keep you out of Newgate. I have decided you will return to Halton Hall and remain there until the Spaniard recovers and your string of scandals die down,” he glowered at Julian. “For your sake, I hope the Spaniard recovers.”
Julian thumped his fist on MacDonald’s desk. “I will not return to Halton Hall.”
“It is your ancestral home and nobody else would want you.”
“I don’t care if it’s the home of my ancestors nor do I care if the late Earl of Ballingford and the moronic Honourable Martin Ashford are my cousins, I will not return there. Nor can you make me.”
MacDonald’s cold eyes met Julian’s. “I can and I am. Your family name and my influence stand between you and a long stretch behind bars or seven years in the New South Wales penal colony.” MacDonald’s eyebrows rose. “Why so reluctant? Ballingford’s dead. His brother is now in residence as guardian of the children and estates until the young Earl reaches his majority. I have dispatched a letter to Martin Ashford, I don’t expect him to refuse me.”
“You’ve already told Martin?” Julian exploded. “Have I no choice in this matter?”
“No, unless you want me to personally deliver you to the prison’s welcoming arms.” MacDonald glared irritably at the corporal and clerk behind him. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Their eyes darted between MacDonald and Julian. “You told us to wait, Brigadier,” the corporal stammered.
“Well, get out.”
“Yes, off you go gentlemen,” Julian sneered. “I am having a small wager with myself on how long it will take for you to spread this new morsel around Town. Forty-eight hours? You’ll put the gossipy washerwomen to shame.”
MacDonald returned to his desk. “Get out of my sight, Major Ashford. I’ve washed my hands of you.” He waited until they were alone before speaking softly “Take great care, Julian. Don’t let your guard down for a minute.”
About Jan:
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.
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Voter numbers at the 1925 election rose to 91%. I bet there were sighs of relief within the hallowed halls of government.