Rafe Ashcombe

The name I gave you is Rafe Ashcombe. It is the name on my papers, which is not quite the same thing as saying it is mine.

Oxford calls me a gentleman. London would call me a traitor. I carry sealed letters through enemy lines, borrow other men’s coats and loyalties, and smile convincingly when a pistol is pointed at my chest. Most nights I sleep with one beneath my pillow. On the better nights, I do not sleep at all.

You should keep your distance. I am hunted, unreliable and very good at making danger feel like an invitation. Yet you saw through me before anyone else did. Now every road leads back to your door—for an alibi, a hiding place, a kiss I have no business asking for…and perhaps the one truth I have left.

Ask me whose side I am on if you like. Just lock the door first.