Chapter Two

I left the house before I could think better of it, but the doubts began to sink in faster than the chill from the icy gusts of wind that enveloped me on my way to the Tube.

This winter was the coldest I could remember. It seemed unfair, somehow, that we should have to contend with both the Nazis and this weather. Perhaps the Germans had brought it with them. Perhaps it swept down from the Alps and followed in their wake as they marched across Europe.

As I caught my thoughts rambling on about the weather, I was forced to admit, if only to myself, that I was nervous about visiting with Major Ramsey. Things had been rather emotionally fraught the last time we'd been together. Our mission in Sunderland had ended with his being shot four times. In fact, we'd both come perilously close to dying.

Shortly before that, we'd shared an ill-advised but extremely passionate kiss, which we'd agreed should not be repeated.

We'd said goodbye in a hospital room, and the major had made it clear we'd not be seeing each other again unless it became necessary. Even the influence of morphia had not prevented him from nixing the possibility of a romance.

No, that door was closed. And rightly so. Attraction aside, we were ill-suited in almost every conceivable way.

Nevertheless, there were clearly some unresolved feelings there that were likely to lend our reunion an added layer of discomfort. There was also the added weight of the secret I was carrying about my father's work for the Germans.

I certainly couldn't confide this bit of information to the major, couldn't let him know that my family had past ties to Germany. I'd proved myself to him time and time again, but some part of me still suspected he didn't entirely trust me. I was a thief, after all. A thief from a family of thieves. And also a family of spies, it turned out.

But none of that was relevant to why I was going to see him today. This was strictly a professional visit, and I meant to keep it that way.

I reached his Belgravia residence—a lovely town house in keeping with his posh roots—which served as his office, and rang the bell. I was pleased to see the street was still undamaged by recent bombings, though the ever-present sandbags were a reminder of the imminent threat. A moment later the door was opened by Constance Brown, the major's secretary.

"Miss McDonnell," she said in her customary pleasant-yet-professional tone. "How nice to see you again. Won't you come in?"

I stepped inside, glad to be out of the cold. If this unusually frigid winter persisted, I was going to need a warmer coat. My boots also left something to be desired, I realized as I tried to wiggle some feeling back into my numb toes. I had never been keen on clothes shopping, but now I wished I'd been a bit more extravagant before the war started.

"What can I do for you?" Constance asked, turning to me in the foyer. She did not ask to take my coat.

"Is Major Ramsey in? If he has a moment, I'd like to speak to him." I didn't like the vaguely uncertain note in my voice.

I was sure I didn't imagine the slightest pause as Constance considered her answer. Ever efficient, however, she didn't hesitate for long.

"I believe his schedule is rather full today," she said. "But I'll just check in with him."

"I should have rung up first, but I was in the neighborhood…" I had not, of course, been in the neighborhood. Before meeting Major Ramsey, I'd never been in Belgravia unless it was to commit a burglary.

"I won't be a moment," she said, turning down that once-familiar hallway in the direction of his office.

It didn't escape my notice that she had made no guarantees. I wondered if he'd told her to ward me off if I happened to come begging to see him. The thought stiffened my spine, and I decided that I would not be put off, even if I had to barge into his office uninvited.

Such dramatics proved unnecessary, however, as, a moment later, she was back, her smile still in place. "He says please come back, Miss McDonnell. May I take your coat?"

"Thank you."

My coat discarded, I pressed aside my nerves and, chin up, made my way to the major's office. There was no reason I should be hesitant to speak with him. We'd moved beyond the kiss even before we'd parted ways; it was practically ancient history.

The door to his office was slightly ajar, but I tapped on it.

"Come in," he said.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was standing on the other side of the desk. For just a moment, we studied each other.

I ought to have expected that he wouldn't look quite as hale and hearty as he had in the past. He'd had four holes in him three months ago, after all. Still, it was a bit surprising to see him paler than usual and dark beneath the eyes. He'd lost a bit of weight, too, though his height and well-built frame helped to conceal it.

He was still rather ridiculously good looking, of course. Perfectly put together in his spotless uniform, every blond hair in place. Sometimes I had to fight the urge to salute, even more so now that he greeted me with no noticeable change in expression.

"Miss McDonnell. This is a pleasant surprise," he said, breaking the silence with what seemed a rather obvious falsehood.

"Hello, Major. I'm sorry to drop in unannounced."

"No trouble at all. How are you?"

"I'm very well. How are you? I hope your recovery is going well?"

"Yes. Thank you."

There was a pause.

Why must it be like this? Why must things feel so awkward just because we happened to have kissed once?

"Would you like to sit down?" he asked, motioning to the chair I usually sat in when visiting his office.

"Thank you. I know you're busy; I won't take much of your time." I walked to the chair and took a seat. He sat, too, a carefulness to his movements that would not have been noticeable to a casual observer. I wondered how much his wounds still pained him, and it made me sad I didn't feel comfortable enough to ask.

"What brings you here?" he asked when we were settled. His tone was polite, though not particularly warm.

What had brought me here? That was a good question, wasn't it? He seemed to assume it was not a social call, and I was very glad I had two excuses for coming.

"I happened to see this in the paper this morning," I said, pulling the folded-up scrap of newspaper from my pocket. I had torn it from the paper, taking a chance that Uncle Mick had been finished reading the article printed on the other side.

I handed it to him across the desk, and he unfolded it, his eyes scanning the text before coming back up to me. "Do you know something about this?"

"No," I said. "I thought perhaps you did."

"I'd heard about it, of course. Lazaro is influential in diplomatic circles, and this was something for people to talk about besides the war. But I know nothing more than what is written here, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I thought it was odd."

"In what way?"

"That's the thing," I said. "I'm not exactly sure. Something about it strikes me as strange, though I haven't yet put my finger on it."

He said nothing, waiting.

"It's so brazen, for one thing," I ventured. "They might have got away with a better haul by simply doing a quiet robbery of an unoccupied house."

He still didn't reply, and I had the impression he was not overly interested in my theory.

Unsure of what else to say, I offered him a smile. "Oh, well. Perhaps I'm overthinking it. I thought it couldn't hurt to ask you." And then, because I could not quite let the matter go, I said, "Perhaps I merely wanted to be sure you hadn't replaced us with a better band of thieves." The words didn't come out quite as light as I'd intended them to, and I was annoyed that he might be able to sense my uncertainty.

"I would be hard-pressed, I think, to find better recruits than the McDonnells," he said, with the slightest smile.

"I'm glad to hear it," I said, flushing a little. "Then there hasn't been any other work for us to do?"

"No," he said. And then, perhaps thinking better of his brusqueness, he added, "Not at the moment. Things have been a bit slow on that front."

I had no idea if he was telling me the truth. It was usually impossible to tell with him. I suspected that he might be, however, as he'd probably been forced to spend some time recuperating after his injuries. No doubt his workload had significantly decreased the past three months.

Then that, it seemed, was that.

"Well, you know where to find us if something comes up," I said with a cheeriness I didn't feel.

"Your family is doing well?" he asked, the politeness of his society breeding overriding his desire to be rid of me.

"Oh, yes. Everyone is fine. We had rather a lovely Christmas, all things considered."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Another pause before we finalized this goodbye.

"Oh, I also wanted to give this back to you," I said, suddenly remembering my second excuse for visiting.

I reached back into the pocket of my woolen jumper and pulled out a handkerchief. I unfolded it carefully. Inside it was the large diamond ring I had worn as a part of a cover story on a previous job. It was the ring he had bought to give to his former fiancée once upon a time, and it made me uncomfortable to have so valuable and personal an object in my possession.

I held it out across the desk, and he reached to take it. Stupidly, the mere brush of his fingers against mine sent a little jolt through me.

Our eyes met.

"Gabriel Ramsey, Betts tells me you didn't eat your breakfast. Again."

The words came from the hallway right before the still-slightly-ajar door opened and a woman came in. To say she charged into the room would be inaccurate; it was done much more elegantly than that. Even at a glance, I could tell at once this was the sort of woman who did everything elegantly.

She was tall, fair, and very beautiful, and she wore a burgundy suit that I was fairly certain had cost more than my entire wardrobe. I didn't like the little lurch of dismay that hit me as I combined all this with her apparent intimacy with the major.

Major Ramsey rose from his seat even as the woman spotted me and stopped in the doorway.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," she said, her eyes darting from me to the major. "I didn't know you had a visitor."

Her gaze came back to me and was assessing me with interest now. I was glad that I'd taken more care than usual with my appearance this morning. I was wearing a dark gray wool skirt with a thick, dark green jumper over my white blouse. Not exactly stylish, but neat. And the green of the jumper matched my eyes. Even my notoriously wayward black curls had been pinned into an orderly chignon.

"Close the door on your way out," the major said pointedly. I noticed the ring had disappeared, presumably into his pocket. "And tell Betts she can dashed well mind her own business."

The woman was unfazed. "I'm Noelle Edgemont," she said to me.

"My sister," Major Ramsey said. Now that he'd been forced into it, politeness demanded he finish introductions, and he did so tersely. "Noelle, this is Miss Electra McDonnell. A colleague."

His sister. I could see it, now that he said it. There was a strong resemblance, though the major's chiseled masculinity was softened into cool beauty in his sister. Her eyes were the same violet-blue that his were.

"I'm so pleased to meet you," she said. "Have you offered her tea, Gabriel? Never mind, I can see you haven't. Would you like some tea, Miss McDonnell?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary."

"Noelle…" Major Ramsey said. I recognized the warning note in his voice, but she took no notice.

"I'll have a pot sent in. It's such a cold day. It won't take a moment."

She smiled at me, ignored the major completely, and then turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

It was clear that she knew nothing about me. Of course, Major Ramsey would not be likely to discuss his work with his sister. And that was the only part of his life in which I was involved. A colleague, he had told her. That summed it up very neatly.

"I apologize for the interruption," he said as he took his seat again. "She is visiting me for the holidays and has taken to riding roughshod over my household."

I smiled, both at this clearly accurate description and at the feeling that a bit of his formality had thawed.

"She seems lovely," I said. "And I'm glad to hear you've had someone to look after you during your recovery."

I immediately felt self-conscious about saying this, but the major didn't seem to mind.

"She's been very helpful on occasion, though apt to fuss."

"How are you feeling, really?" I asked, while I was feeling brave.

"Fine. The wounds have healed nicely."

"You've lost weight," I said.

"So have you."

I was surprised he had noticed, and I fumbled for an excuse. "Things have just been rather hectic lately. Perhaps I've been getting more exercise than usual."

I was avoiding his eyes, but I could feel his gaze on my face. "You haven't been greatly troubled about what happened in that cave in Sunderland? Nightmares, that sort of thing?"

"No," I said, though I had been troubled lately by several dreams about my father and mother, filled with shadowy spies and knives dripping blood.

It seemed as though he was about to say something else, but, thankfully, Mrs. Edgemont returned then with a tray in hand. "Betts had just finished making a tray, isn't that a lucky thing?"

"Lucky indeed," Major Ramsey said without enthusiasm.

"How do you take your tea, Miss McDonnell?" she asked, setting the tray down on the corner of Major Ramsey's desk.

"I… a bit of sugar, please."

"A lot of sugar," Major Ramsey said.

I looked up at him and smiled at his recollection of my sweet tooth. Sugar was the most difficult part of rationing for me. When the war was over, I wouldn't toast our victory with champagne. I would have a cup of tea with heaps of sugar in it.

Mrs. Edgemont took his word for it and put two large spoonfuls of sugar into the cup. "There you are," she said, setting it in front of me.

"Thank you." I took a sip, appreciating the warmth and the sweetness. I hadn't realized that I was still cold until I felt the heat of the cup seeping into my chilled fingers.

"Do you live in London?" I asked politely, as the silence seemed to be lengthening.

"No, I just came for the holidays," she said as she poured Major Ramsey's tea—black, naturally—and set it in front of him. I wondered if she would pour herself a cup and sit down for a chat. "Gabriel and I always spend Christmas together. It's our birthday."

"Your birthday…" I began, confused. And then it hit me. "Oh, you're twins!"

She smiled. "Yes. We were born on Christmas, the most extravagant gift our mother ever received, I daresay. We've spent every birthday together, except for last year when he was in North Africa."

Twins born on Christmas. Gabriel and Noelle. It was all so impossibly adorable that I wanted to laugh with delight. One glance at Major Ramsey's face, however, and I realized that he was not finding this conversation amusing.

"I don't know any twins," I said. "It must have been nice to grow up with someone exactly your age."

"Oh, it was great fun," Mrs. Edgemont said. "Wasn't it, Gabriel?"

"It had its moments." He did not elaborate, and he hadn't touched his tea. I realized he was hoping to bring things to a close. His next words confirmed it. "Miss McDonnell did not come here on a social call, Noelle, and I'm sure she does not need our family history."

She sighed. "All right. I'm going. It's just not very often you have visitors."

He did not reply, but his expression seemed to be reminding her that I was not, technically, a visitor.

"So nice to have met you, Miss McDonnell," she told me.

"You, too, Mrs. Edgemont."

She left again, and I turned back to Major Ramsey. I felt the distance creep back between us again, and now I wanted only to be on my way. Perhaps coming here had been a bad idea, but now at least I knew it.

I took a final sip of the tea then set the cup down on the saucer. "Well, I won't take up any more of your time."

I rose, and he followed suit. "Thank you for coming by, Miss McDonnell. I'll certainly be in touch if any work comes up for you and your uncle."

"Thank you." We looked at each other, and then, because there was nothing else to say, I said, "Goodbye, Major."

Now that the ring was returned, I doubted my path would cross again with Major Ramsey's anytime soon. I couldn't help but feel a bit gloomy as I left.