Chapter Sixteen

I didn't go to see the major too early the next afternoon. I didn't want to appear overeager after all the time he had made me wait. I took my time eating lunch, and then I decided to walk most of the distance to his house, rather than taking the Tube. Perhaps it was childish of me, but I was annoyed with him, and I didn't think there was any reason I should have to jump to attention just because he'd finally decided I could be of some use.

Of course, it ended up hurting me more than it did him. The long walk was frigid, and I was frozen nearly clear through by the time I arrived. Not only that, but I had come at a bad time.

"Good afternoon, Miss McDonnell," Constance said as she answered the bell. "I know Major Ramsey was expecting you, but I'm afraid he's in a meeting at the moment. If you'd like to sit in the parlor and wait, I'll let him know you're here as soon as he's free."

"All right. Thank you, Constance."

"Oh, Miss McDonnell," a voice said. "How nice to see you again."

I looked up to see Noelle Edgemont, the major's sister, standing on the stairs.

"Hello, Mrs. Edgemont."

"Call me Noelle, please. I couldn't help but hear you're waiting to see Gabriel. I came down to talk to him as well, but since he is occupied, you must come up and have tea with me. We'll wait together."

I hesitated. This was rather an awkward position to be put in. After all, I wasn't here as a guest. My eyes flickered to Constance to see if I could gauge her thoughts on the matter, but she was carefully avoiding my gaze, arranging papers on her desk.

"I think perhaps I'd better just wait here."

"Nonsense," she said with a wave of her hand. "It's cold, and there's no fire in the front parlor. Come along."

She turned and began going back up the stairs. She had something of her brother's commanding manner, and it felt both difficult and rude to refuse.

"You'll… let him know where I've gone?" I said as I passed Constance's desk.

"Yes, of course."

I had never been upstairs in the major's house. He used the ground floor as an office, and most of the furniture had been disarranged to accommodate his professional pursuits. The parlor now served as a waiting room of sorts, and Constance's desk had been placed off to the side of the foyer.

I knew from experience there was also an empty room with only a table and two chairs down the hall of the ground floor, which could be used as a holding cell or interrogation room.

But I assumed the first floor was still used as his living quarters, and it felt rather personal to be invited into them. Of course, he was not the one doing the inviting.

Upstairs was tastefully decorated. The walls of the hallway were papered in dark green, and there was good art on the walls. Nothing flashy by French masters or anything of that sort. I wouldn't have expected Major Ramsey to be a collector of ostentatious paintings. He was about as different from someone like Nico Lazaro as it was possible to be.

It occurred to me what a surprise it would have been to find a large statue of a naked woman at the head of the stairs, and I pressed my lips together to suppress a smile.

Noelle led me into a little parlor where she'd apparently pushed back the blackout curtains to let in the afternoon sun. The floor was a gleaming golden parquet beneath a very nice rug, and the furniture was sturdy, comfortable, and high-quality. A fire crackled cheerily in the marble fireplace.

I knew Major Ramsey was from a wealthy family, but I'd never thought of him as wealthy, per se; he was always the military man to me. But standing in the upper rooms of his house reminded me that he came from money. His uncle, the Earl of Overbrook, would have been very comfortable in this house.

Noelle led the way to a little table that had been set with tea-things and motioned for me to have a seat.

She poured from a silver tea service as I settled into the chair. "Sugar, wasn't it?" she asked and then scooped in a generous amount without waiting for my answer.

"Thank you," I said as she handed me the cup and saucer.

I took a sip. It was hot, strong, and very sweet. Perfection.

"How long will you be in London?" I asked as we settled into conversation over our cups.

"Not much longer. I went to our country home in Hampshire to check on things and came back yesterday." That would explain why Jocelyn Abbot had been able to make her overnight visit, my mind put in unhelpfully.

"I suppose I'll take the train up to Cumberland in the next day or two to reunite with my family," she said. "I'd stay longer, but I miss my children. The little brutes."

"How many do you have?"

"Two boys. Twins, actually. They're eight, absolute terrors, and I adore them to pieces."

I smiled. "I grew up with two boys. My cousins. So I understand perfectly."

"Do they ever become less… exuberant?"

"Not much, I'm afraid."

She sighed. "I thought as much. Gabriel has given me a false sense of what little boys grow into. He's so very steady."

I felt as though this might be her way of drawing me out on the subject of her brother, but I didn't intend to wade into that if I could avoid it. "I imagine responsibility has a sobering effect."

She nodded. "He was a lively enough child, but there's always been something of a serious side to him. Have some sandwiches," she said, handing me the plate of them. "Cheese and chutney, I think. What are your cousins like?"

And so we ate sandwiches and biscuits, I told her stories of Colm and Toby's childhood hijinks, and she related stories about her sons that proved that boys had changed very little in the past two decades.

I liked Noelle Edgemont very much. We were from entirely different worlds, but in some ways we were very much alike. It was surprising to me, as she reminded me a lot of her brother. I would never have guessed I'd one day be drinking tea and eating biscuits with an earl's niece, but here we were.

"Am I interrupting?"

I had not even heard Major Ramsey come into the room.

I turned to look at him. It was hard to tell what he thought of my being chummy with his sister. Did he disapprove of our spending time together? Or was he indifferent?

I had to assume it was the former. He wouldn't like the mixing of personal and professional lives. He wasn't frowning, though. That was something.

"Come and have some tea with us, Gibby," Noelle said.

If he was annoyed by his sister using a childhood nickname in front of me, which I assumed he was, he gave no sign of it.

Instead, he came to the table and pulled out a chair. He was moving a bit stiffly today, I noticed. Noelle poured tea into a cup and set it in front of him.

He picked it up and took a long, appreciative sip.

I passed him the plate of sandwiches, and he took one without comment.

I didn't miss the little glance Noelle darted between her brother and me as he ate the sandwich.

For a few moments, we sipped our tea and chatted about generalities. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was strange, the three of us sitting here. Almost as though we were friends.

For just the briefest moment, I allowed my mind to wander to what it might be like if we were friends. If, perhaps, the major and I were more than friends, spending an afternoon with his sister.

I quickly pushed the thought away.

"You're hurting, aren't you," Noelle said suddenly. "You ought to take your medicine."

"I'm fine."

Noelle looked at me with a roll of her eyes. "One would think he enjoys suffering. He positively excels at depriving himself of things. Especially things he really wants."

I didn't dare look at the major, but I could feel the heat creeping up my neck.

He set his cup down in the saucer on the table. "Would you like to come back down to my office, Miss McDonnell? We have some matters to discuss."

"Yes, of course."

Midnight must always strike for Cinderella, I supposed.

He rose and helped pull back my chair like he would have done for a lady at a fancy restaurant.

"Thank you so much for the tea, Mrs. Edgemont," I said. I felt a pang of regret that our lovely teatime had come to an end.

"Noelle," she reminded me. "And it was lovely chatting with you, Ellie. I hope we can do it again sometime."

I smiled, knowing the possibility was slim to none.

"Take your tea with you," she said, motioning to the cup. "No use letting it go to waste just because my brother has no patience."

She had just refilled my cup, and as I hated to waste the sugar, I picked up the saucer and carried it with me. Then I preceded the major out of the room and down the stairs into his office.

He closed the door behind us, and I took the seat that I had begun to think of as mine.

He went around his desk to sit down.

"What has Noelle been talking to you about?" he asked. I couldn't tell from his tone whether it was a casual question or a weighted one.

"Oh, we discussed the hazards of young boys," I said with a smile.

He nodded. "My nephews are… rather a handful."

"I told her about Colm and Toby. I didn't, of course, tell her the story of my background—the sort of work I do for you. If you'd like to do so, I don't mind."

"I haven't said anything to her about that. She knows that I'm not free to discuss my work with her."

I nodded.

"Did you speak with your uncle?" he asked.

"He told me that he managed to arrange things with the thieves. But he said you wanted to discuss it with me."

He shifted ever so slightly in his chair. "He spoke with a man at Red's who seems to be a part of the group of thieves from Lisbon. They've narrowed their focus, and they need a man with the talent to get what they want. That's where your uncle comes in."

"Have they said what they're looking for?"

"They were cagey about that with your uncle, but as far as he could glean from the things they said, they seem to be looking for a map."

"All of this for a map?" I asked. "A map of what?"

"That's the question. One of my Lisbon contacts is arriving this afternoon, and I assume he will have more information about the situation in Lisbon than I've been able to ascertain. I'm going to meet him this evening."

I waited.

"Would you like to accompany me?" Was this his way of making it up to me that he'd excluded me before?

"Are you sure I won't be in the way?" I asked tartly, before I could think better of it.

A muscle in his jaw tightened. "You needn't come if you don't care to."

I didn't want to quarrel with him, but I couldn't seem to get my mouth in check. "It's just difficult to know when I'll be interfering."

I expected—and perhaps deserved—a sharp retort, but instead he sighed.

"Must you turn everything into a battle of wills, Electra?" he asked wearily.

I was startled, both by the words and by his use of my given name. He almost never called me Electra; he certainly hadn't since Sunderland.

And, despite the justified reprimand, I felt warmed by the intimacy of the question, in the personal history it held. Our eyes met across the desk, and I felt the prickle of awareness at the base of my neck. I could lose myself in that violet-blue gaze if I wasn't careful.

"I'd very much like to come with you," I said. I could think of nothing else to say.

He nodded.

I felt thrown off-balance by what had passed between us, and so I returned to the firm footing of the mission. "Did they tell Uncle Mick where they think they'll find this map? What's the plan?"

After all, I wasn't sure where the new information had left us. We still didn't know who had the map and where the thieves intended to strike next.

He gave a rare grimace, whether from the pain he was in or from what he was about to say, I didn't know. Perhaps it was both.

"They're going to attempt a job tomorrow night, though they didn't yet give him the location."

I felt a shiver of fear. "Then we won't be able to stop them. Uncle Mick will just be walking in blind."

"Not if we discover something in the next twenty-four hours."

As far as I could tell, the odds didn't seem good.