For Your Eyes Only

Natasha Gordon poured herself half a cup of coffee. She needed it. Her first appointment had been at eight, and she hadn't stopped since. "What's this big deal that just happened? I was on my way to St. John's Wood to show a client an apartment when I got a message from Miles telling me to drop everything and come here straight away." Janine, the receptionist at Morgan & Black, always up on all the rumors, shrugged. "If that's what he told you, you'd better not keep him waiting," Janine said with a smile. He certainly knew more about the matter than he let on. Tash put down her coffee cup and took the stairs two at a time. She had every reason to believe that Miles Morgan, the partner at Morgan & Black, the agency that handled most of London's real estate transactions, could give her the "associate" position that had become vacant at the firm. She tried to calm herself as she reached the door to Miles's office. She tied her hair back with her great-grandmother's silver hair clip, straightened her skirt, and buttoned the top of her blouse before opening the door. "Janine! Has she come yet?" Miles exclaimed without looking up from the desk, then added when he saw Tash, "Where the hell have you been?" "I was showing a couple their Chelsea house first thing this morning. They were very cautious and reserved, but the wife's eyes shone like the lights of Blackpool during its annual Illumination Festival. I'm sure they'll make us an offer today. I haven't stopped all morning. Is this so urgent, Miles? I've arranged to meet Glencora Jarrett to show her the St. John's Wood apartment in half an hour, and traffic is impossible." –Forget that. I've already sent Toby. Toby was Natasha's occasional partner. He'd gone to Australia for a rugby tournament, and she didn't expect him back until the end of the month. –Toby? But Lady Glencora asked me to come personally… "Forget His Lordship and take a look at this," Miles said, pushing the latest edition of the Country Chronicle toward him. The magazine opened to a full-page advertisement for Hadley Chase, a historic and stately mansion in the English countryside that had just been put up for sale. In the photo, the dense fog of dawn had given her a charming golden aura that concealed her many shortcomings. "That photo looks great," Tash said. "I'm sure the calls will pour in." –Wait and keep reading. –I know what you're saying, Miles. I wrote the article. With your approval. –No. I didn't approve... this. Tash frowned. She knew Miles's irascible temper, but she figured there must be something more to it. Had they both missed some glaring mistake? She didn't think it likely. She'd written it very carefully. She perused the article that covered the photo: A stately 17th-century mansion in a prime location in the Berkshire Downs, with good access to motorways from London, the Midlands, and the West Midlands. So much for the good news. The bad news is...