“If we are done discussing my ability to use my hands well—”
“Ah, and there’s the innuendo I’ve been waiting for,” she commented. “I intercepted a missive tonight that you’ll need to be aware of before we do anything regarding Wessix.”
And this couldn’t have waited till tomorrow?” he asked, sighing.
At this, Jaxsen gave a sweet smile. “Check your watch, Blueberry. It is tomorrow.”
“Bloody hell, are you always this literal?”
“Often, but you can’t depend on it. I like the element of surprise.”
“Lucky me.”
“Yes, lucky you. Which, I feel leads into a different topic. But first, here.” She extended the missive, and he rose from the desk and took the parchment.
His dark eyebrows, a stark contrast to the light hue of his hair, frowned as he read through the words. “A week then.”
“Apparently, our informant was correct. It’s been hit and miss.”
“Why would anyone wish to free the devil himself?” Emerson muttered under his breath.
“You know, I asked myself the very same thing,” Jaxsen replied, then took a seat beside the warming fire. “It gives us more time, which is always in our favor.”
“We could easily have Napoleon moved to a different location—”
“And just start the whole mess over again? No, thank you. We need to make sure these people understand it’s a futile effort, so much so that they won’t risk or try again. That is the solution.”
Emerson nodded. “You’re right.”
“I usually am. Which leads me to the previous point, because it’s something else I’m right about.”
“Is your inflated sense of self another one of your charms?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Now how are your lock-picking skills?”
He studied her for a moment. “Clearly not as good as yours.”
“That was something I already had assumed.” She sighed impatiently. “What is protecting you from someone stealing your silver or attacking you at night, or—”
“Stealing my virtue?” He chuckled.
“If no one has stolen your virtue yet, we have other problems,” she shot back, then grinned when he gave her a wry expression.
“If you’re going to be working for the War Office as a spy, not just in intelligence, you need to be more careful.”
“It almost sounds as if you care.”
“I do,” she answered. “If I’m putting all this work into training you to be someone half as good as I…” She gave a smile. “…then I don’t want my effort wasted on your stupidity.”
“Touching, that.”
“And your servants’ entrance.” She glanced heavenward.
“Most people use the front door.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I figured that one out on my own.”
