Moment of Truth Read Online Free PDF Page A

What’s going on?’
    â€˜Hello, Aubrey. I’m glad you’re here.’
    There’s a wealth of commentary in that simple utterance, Aubrey thought and he began to grow very uneasy. ‘George, how long have you been here?’
    George drew up a chair. One of the serving staff arranged his napkin on his lap. ‘A few hours, old man. Came as soon as I read the telegram.’
    â€˜Ah. From my father?’
    â€˜That’s the one. Said I should join you here. I was starting to wonder where you’d got to.’
    His mother smiled a little, but Aubrey noted how she was fiddling with the gold charm bracelet around her wrist – the one his father had given her soon after they first met. ‘Your father telephoned and said he wanted you both to stay here until he could talk to you. After he’d received permission from your father, George, of course.’
    Aubrey’s weariness had vanished. Something was awry, seriously awry. ‘Mother? Do you know what’s going on?’
    Lady Rose was about to answer and the soup was brought out.
    â€˜Potato and leek,’ George said. ‘Capital.’
    George finished quickly, and allowed himself to be persuaded to have seconds, while Aubrey dawdled over his. It wasn’t that the soup was poor – it was excellent – but he spent most of his time watching his mother.
    She barely lifted her spoon. She chatted absently with George about the putting together of the latest edition of the Luna, the student newspaper at Greythorn. George had received some favourable notice for his series of articles about the ordinary people of Holmland, and his prestige among the students working on the paper had grown considerably.
    Engaging as she was, Aubrey couldn’t help but notice that his mother’s real attention was on the doorway that led to the entrance of the house. George hadn’t noticed this – devoted as he was to Lady Rose – but Aubrey saw the subtle shifts of posture and position that meant that Lady Rose could see the door without having to turn away from speaking to him.
    When the doorknocker hammered, Lady Rose stiffened. George’s chat drained away when he saw the expression on her face. Harris appeared with a heavy, cream envelope on a silver tray. ‘M’lady?’
    She held out a hand in the same way one might ask for a cobra and took the envelope and the letter opener that was also on the tray. Her lips were set in a grim line as she slit the envelope with quick, efficient movements.
    It didn’t take long to read, and Aubrey was dismayed to see all the colour run from his mother’s face. ‘Mother?’
    She didn’t respond. She put a hand to her mouth and scanned the letter again. Finally, she folded the letter and held it in both hands in front of her. ‘I have some distressing news.’ She took a breath. ‘Holmland has invaded the Low Countries.’
    George smothered an oath. Aubrey clenched his fists and his heart pounded inside his chest. Nearly two years of tension, of plots and counter plots, had led to this moment. He’d hoped that it would never come, that a clever stroke would forestall it forever, but the tide was sweeping over them even as they did their best to resist it.
    â€˜At ten o’clock,’ Lady Rose continued, visibly growing paler, ‘your father is due in the Lower House. He is going to announce that we are at war.’
    There it is, Aubrey thought numbly. Such a simple statement: we are at war. Nation against nation, and misery would be the only inevitable outcome.
    â€˜Holmland must be aiming to invade Gallia through the Low Countries,’ he said and he tried to remember his geography. Racing through the Low Countries would be easier than trying to force through the hilly terrain and fortified areas of north-eastern Gallia. ‘Our treaty with Gallia means we have no choice but to support the Low