The handshake was brief but seemed to settle the awkward situation.
Shaw leaned sideways toward Ginny. “By the way, what did he mean by his Grace and Mr. Stonewall cohabiting?!” she hissed.
Ginny wrinkled her nose. “It is exactly as it sounds. Evander and Viggo are lovers.” She shrugged at Evander’s scowl. “What? She was bound to find out soon, anyway.”
Shaw’s eyes rounded. She gasped, hands rising to cover her mouth. “Bloody hell!”
“How about you pipe down, Shaw?” Rufus said testily.
“How—how can I, sir?!” the forensic mage spluttered. “The two people I admire the most in London are, you know,”—her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper—“shagging! Excuse me if I request a moment to process this information.”
Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose. Solomon swallowed a snort. Ginny’s shoulders trembled. Evander sighed. Fairbridge coughed and cleared his throat.
Shaw chewed her lip for a moment before squinting at Viggo and Evander.
“I still can’t see it. I mean, Mr. Stonewall would surely crush his Grace in bed, never mind the size of his you-know-what,”—her gaze dropped to Viggo’s crotch—“fitting you-know-where.” She glanced at Evander’s lower body.
“For the love of God, Shaw!” Rufus snapped while heat crept up Viggo’s neck and Evander tried to disappear into the floor.
Shaw ignored the inspector’s apoplectic expression and gave Evander a commiserating look. “I beg your pardon for my cruelremark earlier, your Grace. I now understand the need for the walking stick. I have something in my luggage if you are in need of a salve.”
Ginny finally burst out laughing. Solomon hugged the wall and wheezed. Fairbridge brushed a non-existent piece of lint from his coat, his shoulders quivering ever so slightly.
Evander studied Rufus dully. “Remind me again why I wanted to bring her?”
Rufus glowered at Shaw. “Because she’s the best forensic mage in England.” The inspector rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a sigh. “Well, now that we’ve all established we’re not here to stab each other in the back, might I suggest we discuss the actual mission?”
“That sounds like a splendid idea,” Ginny said briskly.
Evander withdrew several folders from his bag and distributed them around the carriage. “These are dossiers on our European associates and their initial reports on our investigation. Count Beaulieu will be our primary contact in Paris, along with Inspector Willems in Brussels and Inspector Richter in Vienna.”
Fairbridge scanned a file. “The breadth of the investigation seems quite wide,” he observed with a raised eyebrow.
“It has to be.” Evander’s expression hardened. “Whoever is behind this has resources and activities spanning multiple countries. That kind of organisation doesn’t spring up overnight. Which means they have powerful allies in high ranking places and several schemes in motion. One of them is bound to slip up and provide us with an opportunity to uncover their plans.”
“And maybe even lead us to ‘I’,” Viggo murmured.
“I have contacts in Europe,” Fairbridge said quietly. “From my time in military intelligence. They may prove useful.”
Evander nodded curtly. “We’ll discuss specifics once we reach Paris and assess our initial leads.”
Ginny tapped a finger on a dossier. “I’ll reach out to my connections in high society once we arrive in Paris. Salons and dinner parties are excellent for gathering rumours.”
“Just be careful,” Evander warned. “If our enemies have the reach we suspect, they’ll have eyes everywhere.”
“I’m always careful,” Ginny said. “It’s what keeps me alive.”
“Still, you should take Solomon with you as a bodyguard,” Viggo said.
Ginny gave Solomon a tart look. “I’m sure Mr. Barden would welcome the opportunity to guard my body.”
Rufus narrowed his eyes at her.
Solomon sighed. A thought seemed to come to the thrall’s mind.
“Wait. Does that mean I have to dress up?” he asked suspiciously.
“I already had outfits made for you,” Ginny said with a saccharine smile. “After all, I know your measurements.”
