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“Two days after I was married, Andrew returned. There had been no letter. No indication that he was still alive. He just walked up Main Street, hardly recognizable because he was burnt by the sun and his hair was so long he had to wear it pulled back in a queue.

“He tried to kiss me when he saw me with my shopping basket. But I was married, Moira. I’d just been married . . .” Her voice broke.

“I’m so sorry, my dear,” said her friend.

“When he found out I was Alistair’s wife, the things he said to me—and then the things I said to him—were awful.” Betrayed, he’d been ugly, but so had she. “I never thought we could hate each other, but I was wrong.”

“I didn’t realize,” said a voice behind them.

Lavinia looked over her shoulder and saw Miss Gibson standing in the doorway, one hand against the frame.

“I was assigned to support your operation if you went forward with it,” said Miss Gibson. “I’m sorry if this feels like an ambush or an exploitation of your past. It wasn’t my intention.”

“Nor mine,” said Moira.

“I just had hoped that we might convince you to help us,” said Miss Gibson, her steady gaze never leaving Lavinia’s. “I’m still hoping that, for you’re our best hope. We’ve reason to believe that Wark may be at the center of a very serious plot, but we have almost nothing to go on. We don’t know where the weapons found at his warehouse came from. We couldn’t decipher his note, and when we sent it on its way to be delivered to the railway hotel where it was addressed, it was never retrieved. We don’t know how he plans to deploy the weapons, except we suspect the prince’s visit is the perfect opportunity to strike, if that’s what he wishes to do. We’re grasping at nothing, desperate to stop a tragedy.”

Lavinia took a steadying breath. “And you really think I can help?”

“You have his mother’s ear because you’re her dressmaker. You can be closer to the family than any agent we could deploy would get in this short time.”

“And he’s been pursuing me for some time,” said Lavinia.

“I won’t lie that it would likely help,” said Miss Gibson.

“Men say and do stupid things to try to impress a pretty woman they have their eye on,” said Moira.

“He’s a rotten blaggard of a man,” said Lavinia with a shudder.

“And we need to find out what he’s up to,” said Miss Gibson. “It could be a matter of great national importance. In the past, we’ve uncovered plots to move in munitions to arm an anarchist uprising. There’s the constant threat of bombings, and assassination attempts on the royal family are not without precedent.”

“Yes, people do seem to shoot at the queen rather a lot,” she murmured. “You speak of threats and plots, but it all sounds like speculation. You don’t yet know what you’re fighting, do you?”

“No.” A light sparked in Miss Gibson’s eyes. “But wouldn’t it be something to be the woman who figured it out and brought a man like Wark to his knees?”

The young lady’s hard determination and enthusiasm were infectious. Yes. Yes, it would be something else to fell a man like Wark who had harassed her for years. Wealthy and well-connected, he was a bore who expected everyone to bend to his will. That no doubt was why he was still doggedly pursuing Lavinia even after all the times she’d said no. She was a prize, and Andrew and Miss Gibson wanted to let him win her.

“I know you share a past, but I can assure you that Andrew has one of the most distinguished records in the War Office. He knows that the job comes first, and protecting and helping you will be the job. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that,” said Miss Gibson.

“She’s right,” said Andrew, stepping out from behind the door. “If I’m your handler, you’re my asset.”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry at the realization that she was actually considering this. “I don’t know the first thing about this sort of subterfuge.”

“I’ll instruct you,” said Andrew. “We’ll set up a system so that we can keep in communication. We’ll find a way to meet, and you can tell me what you’ve learned.”

“How?” she asked.

“You’re fond of walking in Princes Street Gardens on Wednesdays,” he said. When she started, his gaze slid over at Miss Gibson. “I’m learning that Gillie is remarkable at surveillance and information gathering, despite her taste in dresses.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my dresses,” said Gillie.

“They’re so . . . bright,” said Andrew.

Miss Gibson pulled a face. “I can’t wear colors like this when I’m following someone, which is why I wear them now.”

“Lavinia, you and I would meet in the gardens, but we’ll vary the time so that it seems natural. Gillie and I will find a way to let you know when that will be each week so that no one else will know, even if they intercept the message,” he said.

“And we’ll prepare a drop spot where you can leave us messages if you need to communicate urgently. You won’t be alone,” said Miss Gibson.