Then something enormous disturbed the water, wreathing her in bubbles.
A monstrous, toothy grip closed around her ribs and she was dragged into the cold, heavy world of air, coughing and blowing water from her nose.She landed with a loud splosh in the mud of the riverbank.
Elfed stood over her, huffing at her and pushing her hair out of her face with his tongue, while Violet lay still, coughing every now and then.
“I’m not sure I deserved that,” she said to him.
Violet felt as if someone had joined them, and heard a gentle whinny.She wiped mud from her eyes to see Simon, looking down at her from the bridle path.
“Anything broken or bleeding, Violet?”Simon asked.“I thought he might have grazed you, holding you in his teeth like that.”
She patted her ribs under her cardigan and tried to peer down her neck at her underthings.“No, not a scratch.The corset saw to that.”She crawled to her feet, amazed at the amount of water that poured off her.Her boots made a sucking noise.She looked at Elfed, who was enjoying a refreshing drink of river water.She began to shiver.
“Do you think I ought to get changed before I try again?I’m sorry I saidcorset,“ she added.Ladies’ underthings were not a welcome topic in mixed company.“Though I suppose being married for ten years means you at least know about them.”
Simon’s lips fought a small battle before succumbing to a smile.Then he shook his head.
“Get up behind me, lass.I’ll take you up to the abbey to dry off,” he said.
Chapter forty-eight
London
Crispinknockedonthedoor of the flat at the address given him by his new employer at the Home Office, and it was opened a quarter of the way by the kind of fellow all the great men had as their private secretaries.Crispin recognised the type instantly.
“I’m here to see C,” Crispin said.
“See C?”the secretary repeated, befuddled.
“I’m not sure there’s a good way to say that, really,” Crispin said apologetically.
The man looked down the passage and then reluctantly let him in.
“Did K send you?”he said once the door was shut.“And what’s your codename?”
“I’m not sure I have one yet,” Crispin said.“And I don’t know any K.Sorry.”
“Look here, you’re not supposed to come here on any account, didn’t they tell youthat, at least?Who on earth gave you this address?”
“Oh, that was the Home Secretary,” Crispin said, relieved to be able to communicate without initials.Then a suspicion hit him.“IsheK?”
The secretary made a strangled sound.
“No, he is most definitelynot.This is impossible!I don’t know how they expect us to get anything done this way.Where did he dig you up?Naval Intelligence?”
“Colonial Office,” said Crispin.
“All right, all right, don’t tell me,” he said irritably, “I’m not supposed to know anything.I’m not supposed to say anything.And C pays for everything out of his own pocket, so don’t ask him for funding, I’m warning you, he won’t have it.”
“Will C see me?”
“Don’t,“ implored the secretary.
“Unintentional, I assure you,” murmured Crispin.
“Wait a minute, and I’ll see—find out,“ he corrected hoarsely and disappeared into an inner room.
A moment later and the door opened again.The secretary motioned for Crispin to come in and left him alone with a white-haired man, grim of lip and golden of monocle.He was seated at a scrupulously neat desk.
