Reginald sat very still, hands folded over the soft leather of the steering wheel, watching the small group down the street from him cluster around the green Austin Seven. He had no idea how four grown adults planned to cram into the Baby Austin—yet they fussed with their coats and exchanged easy laughter as if the car were built for comfort rather than compromise.
Behind him, the men in the backseat murmured low, the sort of talk men make when waiting for permission to turn intent into action.
“Looks like a decent party,” one muttered, his voice a dry rasp.
Yes, his prey was surrounded as she always was, but the more the merrier. People were more at ease when in a group. Having them feel comfortable made for an easier abduction. The men in the car shifted. One tapped the heel of his foot against the floor—a soft percussion.
In the distance a bell struck the hour, a dull, obedient sound, and the group at the curb instinctively checked their watches as if they had all been reading from the same script.
A small boy around the age of his own son ran past. Reginald’s mouth twitched at his gangly gait, that of one who had just had a growth spurt and was now wearing long trousers. His wife would be getting their children ready for bed soon.
The street boy’s cry ricocheted off the car as he tripped—scuffing his knees, putting a hole in his new trousers. His mother wouldn’t be pleased.
Surprisingly, the large red-haired man in the group ran over and lifted the boy easily back onto his feet. He said a few words to him, and the young fella gave him a smile before nodding and running on. Reginald was glad the boy was okay.
He moved his eyes back to the group. Being at the top of this order, he didn’t usually carry out missions such as this, but his partners, Lady Beatrice Hatherleigh and Major Arthur Ellison, felt this particular mission needed to be handled from the top. Though the men in the car with him had no idea he was one of their leaders. They were risking their client’s trust by attempting to recruit the target rather than eliminate her outright.
He would tail them tonight, take the professor, and then they would see which way the wind blew. Beatrice believed she could mold Isla Cole into the fourth pillar of their leadership; they needed that final element to complete their set. So far, they had been unable to find anyone both clever and powerful enough by Lady Beatrice’s standards to fill the role.
Tonight he would make the road treacherous, and when the crash came, he would ensure she was moved somewhere quieter—somewhere persuasion could be practiced.
Chapter Seventeen
This is going to be so much fun!” Juliette’s voice rang out into the cold afternoon air, bright and unbothered by the chill. Isla pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, her breath misting in the lamplight.
Edmund stood with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the tiny green Austin Seven with deep skepticism. The little car sat at the edge of the cobbled street, its olive-green paint gleaming faintly beneath the October drizzle. Compact and upright, the Baby Austin looked almost comical parked in front of the lorry.
“You’re certain,” he said dryly, “thatfourof us will fit in there?”
Juliette beamed at him. “Of course! Don’t let her size fool you.”
The little car gleamed bravely under the street lamp, but Isla wasn’t so sure.
Juliette had insisted that Isla needed an evening of fun after the previous night’s pottery disaster, and the men had insisted on coming along for added protection. The Austin, Juliette had explained proudly, had once belonged to her brother before he’d gone to war. Her father had passed it on to her, calling it “a fine little machine for keeping her out of trouble.”
“Are you sure you know how to drive, Juliette?” Andrew asked, eyeing the car’s worn tires.
Juliette gave his arm a playful swat. “Of course I can drive! Just because most women don’t, doesn’t mean theycan’t.”
Andrew held up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean it like that. I think women should be free to do plenty of things they’re not usually expected to.” His eyes flicked to Isla for a heartbeat before returning to Juliette. “I just wanted to make sure, before I cram myself into this tiny baby car, that you know what you’re doing.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t,” Juliette huffed, tugging on her gloves. “Now then, Edmund—you’re the tallest, so you’d best take the front. Andrew, Isla—snuggle up close on that little back bench.”
Isla shot her friend a knowing glare, quite aware of her matchmaking attempts. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, but climbed in all the same.
Andrew followed obediently, ducking his head to climb in after her, and Isla instantly realized she should have protested Juliette’s seating plan. The back bench was clearly designed for two children—two adults on this bench was overly optimistic.
Granted, Andrew was doing his best to keep to his side, obviously trying to be a gentleman, shoulders turned slightly away, but the space was so narrow that every breath seemed shared. Isla could feel the heat of him beside her, could smell the faint, clean trace of his aftershave—something woodsy and warm, like cedar and soap.
Juliette slammed the door with a triumphantclunk, grinning as Edmund walked around to his side after holding her door open for her. He comically squeezed himself into the passenger seat, and the poor car dipped noticeably to one side. Edmund’s knees brushed the dashboard, his large frame utterly dwarfing the tiny space.
Juliette rubbed her gloved hands together. “I haven’t driven this baby in a while,” she said cheerfully as she started the engine, “but I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike, right?”
“Wait—what?” Andrew began, but he didn’t have time to finish before Juliette hit the accelerator. The Austin lurched forward with a violent jolt that sent Isla pitching sideways—straight against Andrew’s shoulder.
Her hand shot out to steady herself, but there was nothing to hold on to except him. “Oh—sorry,” she breathed, trying to right herself as the car rattled like a tin toy.
“Quite all right,” he managed, though his voice sounded a touch unsteady.
