Eleventh Hour #1Summary:
Borrowed from the Secret Intelligence Service cipher department to assist Briers Allerdale - a field agent returning to 1920s London with news of a dangerous anarchist plot - Miles Siward moves into a 'couples only' boarding house, posing as Allerdale’s 'wife'. Miles relishes the opportunity to allow his alter ego, Millie, to spread her wings but if Miles wants the other agent’s respect he can never betray how much he enjoys being Millie nor how attractive he finds Allerdale.
Pursuing a ruthless enemy who wants to throw Europe back into the horrors of the Great War, Briers and Miles are helped and hindered by nosy landladies, water board officials, suave gentlemen representing foreign powers and their own increasing attraction to each other.
Will they catch their quarry? Will they find love? Could they hope for both?
The clock is ticking.
Summary:
Miles Siward and Briers Allerdale return for another thrilling Jazz Age adventure.
“Silk stockings on expenses.”
Miles’s aristocratic mother has information of importance to the British Government and he must escort her home from Bucharest immediately, but their plans go violently awry and Miles and Lady Siward find themselves on a train to Belgrade - where Miles’s lover is posted. Since their pursuers are looking for a man and a woman, might two women slip past them unnoticed?
"Is anyone on this train who they say they are?"
Briers doesn’t know whether to kiss Miles or punch him but is delighted to accompany him and his mother on their journey. All he has to do is keep an eye open for their enemies - but who exactly are they; the enormous Russian, the sinister priest, the handsome jazz pianist, or maybe the winsome young movie star? And his mother-in-law might just be the most terrifying of all!
All aboard for the ride of a lifetime, with a cast of characters you'll never forget!
I just want to start by saying, how this book sat in my kindle library for over two-and-a-half years before I read it is unknown to me, I suppose it just kept getting slid lower and lower on the shelf 😉😉. Well, whether you are like me and a little late to the party I can highly recommend giving Eleventh Hour a looksee. I haven't read everything by Elin Gregory but what I have read has always been a treat and Eleventh is no different.
Set in one of my favorite eras to read, the 1920s just made this extra special(which also makes me wonder how I let it go so long without reading it😉). As in her other books I've read, it is pretty obvious that the author has a healthy respect for history and that she takes time to get the small details right, sure there are probably a few liberties taken in the name of fiction but I can honestly say nothing really stood out in that area.
I won't say anything in regards to the case other than it is an attention grabber. When situations occur that I might have seen coming, I was still on the edge of my seat wanting to know what the next page and the page after that and the page after that was going to reveal. Spies, hidden agendas, undercover agents, Eleventh Hour has it all and you throw in some romance and what you're reading is true storytelling that is not to be missed.
As for the characters, whether it's as Briers and Miles or Brian and Millie, this pair's chemistry is off the charts both in early frustrations and later passions, the connection is undeniable. A powerful case of what you see is not necessarily what you get. Miles Siward may be a clerk from the cipher department with no field experience but don't let his lack of experience or his cover as Millie fool you, he may not be James Bond but he's no wilting flower either.
Eleventh Hour is a true gem that should not be missed.
Miles Siward and Briers Allerdale return and what a follow-up story Midnight Flit is! Superb storytelling from the get-go. A few years have passed moving this second entry in The Carstairs Affairs series into the 1930s and though the pair are not able to be together 24/7 it's pretty obvious they spend whatever time they can with each other but the story begins with them apart. When Miles' mother has vital information that puts her in danger and a need to return to London, Miles goes to escort her back. As if it would really be that simple😉😉. Danger stalks them forcing Millie Carstairs to return and a detour to Belgrade where Briers is posted.
Once again the author's respect is shown with attention to the era in the small details, which for me only heightens the brilliance of the story. The case is yet again strife with spies, danger, violence, and those not being who they say they are, are everywhere. I won't speak of the case but the blend between mystery, violence, sneaky friends and foes, and of course romance makes Midnight Flit a an all out experience that you can only get the full effects if you read for yourself . . . and trust me you will want to read this.
As for the characters, I loved seeing Millie and Brian make an appearance and how they slip into the roles so easily shows you that they are not just personas they use for the job, they have become part of who Miles and Briers are. Miles' mother is an absolute marvel, a lady of her time but also a free-thinker that is often overlooked in the era. The way she is with both Miles/Briers and Millie/Brian brings to life a relationship that many mothers/mothers-in-law of the time might not factor into the majority but is absolutely lovely to read adding humor and heart to the story.
Whether you are typically a historical reader or not, I highly recommend reading The Carstairs Affairs series otherwise you will miss out on amazing characters and overall fun and danger that hooked me in and when I reached the last page I found myself wishing I read it slower to savor the experience. If you are asking if this is a series that needs to be read in order, I have to say yes. Both entries feature a new case for the heroes but because of the personal moments everything just flows better having read Eleventh Hour first, not just the relationship between Miles and Briers but also the secondary characters who make an appearance. I can't say you'll be lost if you read Midnight Flit first but you will probably find yourself pausing a few times and wondering how certain characters came to be in the mix. However you choose to read it, just be sure you read because otherwise you will miss out on a storytelling gem.
Eleventh Hour #1
Siward picked up a small leather bag and led Briers out of the back of the building into a cobbled court.
"Nice car," Briers said, admiring the vehicle's powerful lines. "Armstrong-Siddeley?"
Siward opened the dickey seat and crammed his bag down into it. "Four-Fourteen Tourer, Mendip model. It was George's," he said as he got into his seat. "He only drove it twice. I'm keeping it in tune while he's convalescing."
Briers waited until Siward had turned the car and driven it out onto Buckingham Gate before he spoke again.
"How is your brother?" he asked.
"As well as can be expected." Siward drove carefully, without much dash, content to follow a coster's cart until sure it was safe to pass it. He glanced at Briers and smiled – a polite but unconvincing grimace. "Thank you for asking. He's walking now, at least, and is his cheerful self, but we don't know how long it will be before he can get back to work. He misses it."
Briers expected he did. He didn't know the details – all very hush-hush – and hesitated to embarrass Siward by asking. "Your brother's a brave man. He could have cut and run. He didn't owe his informant anything."
"Yes, he did." Siward's reply was sharp. "The man was risking just as much as George was, if not more. And he got George to the border, injured though he was. I hope ... I hope if ever I'm in a similar situation, I have half the courage. In comparison with that, anyone should be proud to do what they can, even if it's not what they expected to be asked to do."
"I see," Briers said. Once Siward had taken the turn into Victoria Street he broke their silence again. "So – this business. Mildred?"
"Dear God in Heaven." Siward sighed. "Don't think I'm doing it because I like it. I just happen to be very, very good at it."
"And how did you discover that?" Briers asked. "No, honestly. I'm genuinely curious, not poking fun." He turned a little on the broad seat and studied Siward's profile. "We're going to be in close quarters for a while and I like to know a bit about the people I work with. Was it at school?"
Siward's flush was immediate. Even the narrow strips of skin visible between his cuffs and his driving gloves went pink. "I didn't go to school. I had rheumatic fever when I was six and again when I was nine, so I stayed with my parents and we hired a local tutor wherever we happened to be. Hence all the different languages, I suppose. No, it was when I went up to Cambridge. I read English and wasn't doing too well. My supervisor – dear me, even he was a war hero – suggested I join the Shakespeare performance society. He felt it might give me more insight. I'm not sure it worked as he intended but, over my time there, I think I played all the main female leads – Viola, Ophelia, Rosalind, Beatrice, even Lady Macbeth. I enjoyed the challenge but that was Shakespeare, with all the weight of tradition of men playing female roles. Out in the street, it's something else entirely."
"We all have to play roles in this business," Briers said. "Just remember you are doing something unique. Something I most certainly couldn't do."
Siward replied with a peevish snort. "Well, no, because you are a proper stalwart type. You don't get people sneering at you barely behind your back. I bet you played rugger and boxed for your college."
"Good guess." Briers chuckled. "Rugby League was the big thing in my house. Pa was a follower of St Helens and when I was born, the week before they played in the Challenge Cup, he named me after the entire front row."
"Briers?" Siward's tone was sympathetic.
"Briers Winstanley Allerdale," Briers said. "Actually it should have been Winstanley Briers Winstanley, because the brothers were playing, but even Pa wouldn't go that far. Being Brian Carstairs for a week or two will come as something of a relief."
Siward chuckled. "So your father was a Rugby League enthusiast. What about your mother? Are they still with you?"
"Yes, bless them. Pa is a country doctor, with a practice outside Eccleston. Ma – well she organises things, mostly Pa. I've got a younger brother who's in the practice with Pa and a sister who's courting."
"Someone suitable, I hope?" Siward said. "Do they know what you do?"
Briers shrugged. "I think Pa has guessed. The others think I'm something to do with steel production, which I am some of the time."
"That must be difficult," Siward said. "At least when I write to my family I can tell them a little of my daily life. A clerical post with the government is close enough to the truth."
"Just how many languages do you speak?" Briers asked.
"Five usefully." Siward's tone was matter of fact. "One picks them up easily as an infant and my nursemaids were a mixed bunch. I could speak Czech and Serbian by the time I was three and learned this odd kind of dialect mixture of Macedonian and Bulgarian from an Embassy driver who had the most wonderful pet ferrets."
Briers laughed. "So if ever I need someone to give a talk to the ferret fanciers of Skopje...?"
"I'm your man," Siward said. Their eyes met for a moment and both grinned. "Charing Cross." Siward nodded to the turn ahead. "Why don't you nip in and get your baggage while I turn the car around?"
Midnight Flit #2
Secret Intelligence service operative, Miles Siward, is preparing for a mission with the assistance of his gentleman’s gentleman, Pritchard.
"Do you miss working for Father?" Miles asked after a moment. "I feel bad that I've never asked before, but I was so grateful when you agreed to come back with me and run my little establishment that I suppose it never occurred to me to ask."
Pritchard paused, his hands full of snowy linen. "Lord bless you, sir, no. Ronald and I were heartily sick of exchanging letters by then, and maybe seeing each other once a year - your father's commitments allowing. To be offered the chance to come here, with private accommodation provided, was a Godsend. My only worry was that a relationship started in the trenches and continued on paper might not weather more frequent contact."
Ronald – professional stage manager, natty dresser, a full head taller than Pritchard – was perhaps a little shrill, but one had to be shrill to be heard in theatrical circles. From what little Miles had seen of Pritchard and Ron together, though, they seemed blissfully happy and he wished them well and envied them with all his heart.
"I'm glad," he said. "Going from valet to His Majesty's Ambassador in Bucharest to the man-of-all-work of a clerk seems such a come down."
"We both know that you are far more than a clerk, sir," Pritchard grinned. "And speaking of more, Bucharest is not that far from Belgrade. While you are there, will there be any chance of meeting with the master?"
Miles snorted. "You mustn't call Briers that, it only encourages him. He'll turn up in plus fours and a monocle next, you wait and see!"
"It's meant affectionately, sir." Pritchard gave him a serene smile and tucked a rolled black tie and a pair of silk socks in beside the shirt.
"I know, and he loves it." Miles paused in smiling contemplation of Briers Allerdale – tall where Miles was short, dark where he was fair, a hard-bitten field agent where Miles spent a lot of time at his desk − and thanked his lucky stars that opposites attract. "But sadly I am only going for one night, solely to retrieve Ma and bring her home safely in time for her appointment. A side trip is completely out of the question.
"I understand, sir." From the sympathetic glint in Pritchard's eye, Miles knew that he did understand, very well.
Siward picked up a small leather bag and led Briers out of the back of the building into a cobbled court.
"Nice car," Briers said, admiring the vehicle's powerful lines. "Armstrong-Siddeley?"
Siward opened the dickey seat and crammed his bag down into it. "Four-Fourteen Tourer, Mendip model. It was George's," he said as he got into his seat. "He only drove it twice. I'm keeping it in tune while he's convalescing."
Briers waited until Siward had turned the car and driven it out onto Buckingham Gate before he spoke again.
"How is your brother?" he asked.
"As well as can be expected." Siward drove carefully, without much dash, content to follow a coster's cart until sure it was safe to pass it. He glanced at Briers and smiled – a polite but unconvincing grimace. "Thank you for asking. He's walking now, at least, and is his cheerful self, but we don't know how long it will be before he can get back to work. He misses it."
Briers expected he did. He didn't know the details – all very hush-hush – and hesitated to embarrass Siward by asking. "Your brother's a brave man. He could have cut and run. He didn't owe his informant anything."
"Yes, he did." Siward's reply was sharp. "The man was risking just as much as George was, if not more. And he got George to the border, injured though he was. I hope ... I hope if ever I'm in a similar situation, I have half the courage. In comparison with that, anyone should be proud to do what they can, even if it's not what they expected to be asked to do."
"I see," Briers said. Once Siward had taken the turn into Victoria Street he broke their silence again. "So – this business. Mildred?"
"Dear God in Heaven." Siward sighed. "Don't think I'm doing it because I like it. I just happen to be very, very good at it."
"And how did you discover that?" Briers asked. "No, honestly. I'm genuinely curious, not poking fun." He turned a little on the broad seat and studied Siward's profile. "We're going to be in close quarters for a while and I like to know a bit about the people I work with. Was it at school?"
Siward's flush was immediate. Even the narrow strips of skin visible between his cuffs and his driving gloves went pink. "I didn't go to school. I had rheumatic fever when I was six and again when I was nine, so I stayed with my parents and we hired a local tutor wherever we happened to be. Hence all the different languages, I suppose. No, it was when I went up to Cambridge. I read English and wasn't doing too well. My supervisor – dear me, even he was a war hero – suggested I join the Shakespeare performance society. He felt it might give me more insight. I'm not sure it worked as he intended but, over my time there, I think I played all the main female leads – Viola, Ophelia, Rosalind, Beatrice, even Lady Macbeth. I enjoyed the challenge but that was Shakespeare, with all the weight of tradition of men playing female roles. Out in the street, it's something else entirely."
"We all have to play roles in this business," Briers said. "Just remember you are doing something unique. Something I most certainly couldn't do."
Siward replied with a peevish snort. "Well, no, because you are a proper stalwart type. You don't get people sneering at you barely behind your back. I bet you played rugger and boxed for your college."
"Good guess." Briers chuckled. "Rugby League was the big thing in my house. Pa was a follower of St Helens and when I was born, the week before they played in the Challenge Cup, he named me after the entire front row."
"Briers?" Siward's tone was sympathetic.
"Briers Winstanley Allerdale," Briers said. "Actually it should have been Winstanley Briers Winstanley, because the brothers were playing, but even Pa wouldn't go that far. Being Brian Carstairs for a week or two will come as something of a relief."
Siward chuckled. "So your father was a Rugby League enthusiast. What about your mother? Are they still with you?"
"Yes, bless them. Pa is a country doctor, with a practice outside Eccleston. Ma – well she organises things, mostly Pa. I've got a younger brother who's in the practice with Pa and a sister who's courting."
"Someone suitable, I hope?" Siward said. "Do they know what you do?"
Briers shrugged. "I think Pa has guessed. The others think I'm something to do with steel production, which I am some of the time."
"That must be difficult," Siward said. "At least when I write to my family I can tell them a little of my daily life. A clerical post with the government is close enough to the truth."
"Just how many languages do you speak?" Briers asked.
"Five usefully." Siward's tone was matter of fact. "One picks them up easily as an infant and my nursemaids were a mixed bunch. I could speak Czech and Serbian by the time I was three and learned this odd kind of dialect mixture of Macedonian and Bulgarian from an Embassy driver who had the most wonderful pet ferrets."
Briers laughed. "So if ever I need someone to give a talk to the ferret fanciers of Skopje...?"
"I'm your man," Siward said. Their eyes met for a moment and both grinned. "Charing Cross." Siward nodded to the turn ahead. "Why don't you nip in and get your baggage while I turn the car around?"
Midnight Flit #2
Secret Intelligence service operative, Miles Siward, is preparing for a mission with the assistance of his gentleman’s gentleman, Pritchard.
"Do you miss working for Father?" Miles asked after a moment. "I feel bad that I've never asked before, but I was so grateful when you agreed to come back with me and run my little establishment that I suppose it never occurred to me to ask."
Pritchard paused, his hands full of snowy linen. "Lord bless you, sir, no. Ronald and I were heartily sick of exchanging letters by then, and maybe seeing each other once a year - your father's commitments allowing. To be offered the chance to come here, with private accommodation provided, was a Godsend. My only worry was that a relationship started in the trenches and continued on paper might not weather more frequent contact."
Ronald – professional stage manager, natty dresser, a full head taller than Pritchard – was perhaps a little shrill, but one had to be shrill to be heard in theatrical circles. From what little Miles had seen of Pritchard and Ron together, though, they seemed blissfully happy and he wished them well and envied them with all his heart.
"I'm glad," he said. "Going from valet to His Majesty's Ambassador in Bucharest to the man-of-all-work of a clerk seems such a come down."
"We both know that you are far more than a clerk, sir," Pritchard grinned. "And speaking of more, Bucharest is not that far from Belgrade. While you are there, will there be any chance of meeting with the master?"
Miles snorted. "You mustn't call Briers that, it only encourages him. He'll turn up in plus fours and a monocle next, you wait and see!"
"It's meant affectionately, sir." Pritchard gave him a serene smile and tucked a rolled black tie and a pair of silk socks in beside the shirt.
"I know, and he loves it." Miles paused in smiling contemplation of Briers Allerdale – tall where Miles was short, dark where he was fair, a hard-bitten field agent where Miles spent a lot of time at his desk − and thanked his lucky stars that opposites attract. "But sadly I am only going for one night, solely to retrieve Ma and bring her home safely in time for her appointment. A side trip is completely out of the question.
"I understand, sir." From the sympathetic glint in Pritchard's eye, Miles knew that he did understand, very well.
Elin Gregory lives in South Wales and works in a museum in a castle built on the edge of a Roman Fort! She reckons that's a pretty cool job.
Elin usually writes on historical subjects, and enjoys weaving the weird and wonderful facts she comes across in her research into her plots. She likes her heroes hard as nails but capable of tenderness when circumstances allow. Often they are in danger, frequently they have to make hard choices, but happy endings are always assured.
Current works in progress include one set during the Great War, another in WW2, one set in the Dark Ages and a series of contemporary romances set in a small town on the Welsh border.
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Eleventh Hour #1
Midnight Flit #2
