“Do Juliette and George know about this?”
“They do.”
“Why didn’t I know about it?”
He stopped, turning to face her. He looked worried at the thought of leaving her out. “It’s my fault. We thought of it before you had worked out your powers, and then I just forgot to update you. Sorry, Isla. Though ... I definitely think you and I should have a secret code.” He now looked a little flirtatious. She gave him a small smile.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to her forehead. Then he turned, his brisk pace hard to keep up with in heels even though she was a fraction taller than him when she wore them. He walked just a step ahead, checking corners and glancing behind them.
Mrs. Harris appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips like a general, blocking their path with surprising speed for someone her age.
“Not so fast, young man. No ladies on this floor—” Her eyes narrowed, then softened as recognition settled in. “Ah, it’s you two.”
Her sharp gaze flicked between them. “Something tells me this isn’t a social visit,” she said, studying Isla closely.
“There’s been a break-in to Isla’s room,” Andrew explained quickly.
Mrs. Harris’s face paled. “How did they get in without me noticing?” she asked, clearly mortified. “I’ve made a right pickle of things for you, letting that happen!”
“It’s not your fault. Don’t go up there. I’ve locked them in, if they’re still there. The detective will be with us shortly.”
Mrs. Harris nodded firmly. “Right then. I’ll have Mr. Harris keep watch while I go and tell the Vice Chancellor.”
Andrew bent down and placed a quick kiss on her wrinkled cheek.
“Thank you. You’re a gem, Mrs. Harris.”
“Away with you now,” she said, though Isla could see the faint trace of a smile tug at her lips. “I’ve got enough on my plate just trying to hush the gossips about you two.”
Andrew chuckled.
“Bah, don’t get above yourself, lad,” she replied, shaking her head. “Just keep out of trouble.”
They entered Andrew’s apartment, and he locked the door behind them. He lifted her heavy bag from her shoulder, placing it on the table before pulling her close.
“I’m sorry about your apartment, Isla,” he murmured.
She shivered. The violation of her personal space felt unsettling. Andrew held her tighter, rubbing her lower back slowly.
“For a moment, I hoped they might have moved on. I’d hoped they had figured out that I don’t know anything about Ray’s work and they’d given up—knowing they can’t recruit me,” she said softly. “Things were calmer for a while.”
“I know, darling. I’d hoped that too.”
A sharp knock at the door made her start. Andrew released her just enough to move toward the door, opening it cautiouslyat first, then fully, as Edmund and Juliette stepped inside, looking worried.
“We got your signal,” Edmund said, his tone brisk.
“We were both in the library,” Juliette added, eyes taking in Isla, checking she was unharmed. “George went to inform Harold.”
“Mrs. Harris will be disappointed she didn’t get to tell him first.”
“What happened?” Edmund asked, seeking answers.
Isla glanced between them. Edmund’s stoic, detective-like composure contrasted sharply with Juliette’s barely contained energy.
“My apartment ... someone broke in.” Isla’s voice trembled slightly, though she tried to keep it steady.
“Did you see who it was?” Edmund asked.
