Heat creptup Evander’s neck. Of course Winterbourne already knew. The commander made it his business to know everything that occurred within his sphere of influence. And he had allies in Parliament despite his distaste for the place.
“Lady Farrington was quite descriptive in her report,” Winterbourne continued. He picked up a letter and made a show of perusing it. “She mentioned the temperature drop. The frost forming on Lord Beckett’s papers.” He glanced coolly at Evander. “The way the windows rattled in their frames.”
Rufus drew a sharp breath. “You didn’t?!” He pinned Evander with an accusing frown.
Evander swallowed a groan. “Lady Farrington exaggerates, sir. I may have accidentally caused the ambient temperature to drop, but there was no frost and most definitely no window rattling.”
Winterbourne’s stare turned pointed. “But the chair did rattle, correct?”
Evander sighed. There was no getting out of apologising it seemed.
“Yes, it did. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Are you truly sorry?” Winterbourne narrowed his eyes slightly. “Because from what I heard, you barely kept your temper in check. I warned you Beckett would conduct an inquisition and you nearly gave him exactly what he wanted—proof that you’re too volatile to be trusted.”
Guilt churned Evander’s stomach. The rebuke stung precisely because it was accurate.
“With all due respect, sir,” Rufus protested, “the committee was out of line. They were trying to provoke a reaction out of him.”
“I’m well aware of that, Inspector. And that, as unfortunate as it is, is the game we must play in politics.” Winterbourne’s expression softened a fraction as he studied Evander. “While I appreciate your restraint in not freezing the minister solid, the fact remains that we’re under scrutiny. Every slip, every loss of control, every failure, gives Westminster ammunition to either shut us down or take us over.” His gaze bored into Evander. “You’re better than this, Ravenwood. Act like it.”
Evander’s hands clenched on the chair arms. However much he hated to admit it, Winterbourne was right.
“Understood, sir.”
“Good.” Winterbourne pulled another file across his desk, this one considerably thicker than Lady Farrington’s letter. “Which brings me to the European investigation.”
Evander’s pulse quickened. “You’ve received approval?”
“I have. Though it comes with conditions.” Winterbourne lowered his brows. “The Ministry is assigning an observer to accompany your team.”
“I heard.” Evander’s voice came out flat.
Winterbourne gave Rufus a jaundiced look. “Eavesdropping, Grayson? Really?”
“I can’t exactly control my hearing, sir.”
Winterbourne rolled his eyes at this weak protest.
“So, who’s the watchdog they’re sending?” Evander asked impatiently.
“Can you please not refer to the man as that when you meet him?” Winterbourne said testily. “His name is Hector Fairbridge. He’s former military intelligence, currently attached to the War Office.” The commander removed a document from the folder and slid it across the desk. “His file is surprisingly sparse, which tells me he’s very good at what he does.”
Evander picked up the document and scanned it. The details were indeed minimal: basic biographical information and a list of commendations that revealed nothing about actual operations.
“He’ll be accompanying your team to Europe. Officially to provide reports and ensure proper protocols. Unofficially?—”
“To watch me,” Evander finished bitterly.
“Precisely.” Winterbourne’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I’m telling you this now because I need you clear-headed, Ravenwood. Fairbridge will be looking for any excuse to recommend your removal from the Met. Don’t give him one.”
“We won’t,” Rufus said, giving Evander a hard look.
Evander suddenly had the feeling he was going to have two watchdogs scrutinising his every move on this upcoming mission.
Winterbourne ignored his mood. “You leave for Paris in three days.”
“Three days?” Evander blinked. “That’s hardly enough time to prepare?—“
