The Tudor Plot: A Cotton Malone Novella - Plot & Excerpts
The past few hours had been the worst of his life. He’d left Windsor and ridden back to London in silence, heading first to his office at Parliament. He’d felt safe there, though he realized that his time as an influential member of that body was drawing to a close. Nothing had gone right. And he couldn’t count on Peter Lyon. No. This problem was all his. He stepped to the bar and poured himself a whiskey, downing the drink in one swallow, then made himself another. This seemed like a good night to be roaring plastered. He reclined on the sofa. The door to the study opened and his son stormed into the room. “My God, Father. What have you done?” He was definitely not in the mood for prattling. “Leave me alone.” Andrew rounded the couch and faced him. He did not rise or even look up. “You cannot dismiss me.” He gulped another swallow of whisky. He was going to need fortification. “If I could only be so lucky.” “You have destroyed us. I spoke to Eleanor. She told me what happened with the queen.”
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