Chapter Thirty-One

It was five days later when there was a knock at our door at dinnertime. Uncle Mick got up from the table and went to answer it. A moment later, he came back into the room.

"Ellie, someone to see you."

I could tell from his careful expression that he wasn't sure how I would feel about the visitor, and then I knew instantly who it must be. I had confessed to Uncle Mick about my side jobs and the trouble it had got me into with Major Ramsey.

I had not told him that I was in love with the major, but Uncle Mick had always been adept at reading between the lines.

I had confided my feelings to Nacy and cried on her shoulder while she patted my hair and tutted sympathetically. It was, after all, the first time I had really been in love. The first wrenching heartbreak I had experienced as a result of it.

I could see the warring emotions in her face now, as I looked across the table at her. She was glad that the major had come, optimistic about what it might mean, but she was also indignant on my behalf. Major Ramsey had lost some of her favor when he dismissed me.

I was really tempted to tell Uncle Mick that he might relay to the major that he could go to the devil, but I knew he likely wouldn't be here without a good reason. And, if I was true to myself, I could acknowledge that I hoped deep down that the reason was he had realized he couldn't live without me.

As soon as I walked into the parlor, however, I could see that was not what had brought him here.

"I need to speak to you, privately," he said without greeting.

I waved my hand at the empty room. "There's no one else here."

He hesitated, and I sighed, going to close the doors so that we could have privacy. This house was old, and the doors were thick. Even if Nacy and Uncle Mick were inclined to try to listen—which I knew they wouldn't—I doubted that they would be able to hear much.

"Well," I said. "What can I do for you, Major Ramsey?"

"What else are you involved in?" he asked.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Is there some other job you haven't told me about?"

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I felt a sudden surge of irritation that he had come here to question me. "My work is no longer your concern," I said.

He swore. "I don't have time for this, Electra. Someone is trying to kill you."

I blinked, certain I had misheard him. "What?"

"We caught the man who attacked us with the knife that night, tracked him down from the fingerprints on the knife you collected from the scene. We questioned him, and he confessed he wasn't after me. He was after you."

I felt a cold chill run through me, fear warring with confusion. I had assumed that assailant had been connected with the missing map.

"He wouldn't tell us why," Ramsey said. "But I had a feeling you would know."

I shook my head. Why would someone want to kill me? I didn't have any enemies.

And then the realization struck. It had something to do with my father, with the information I was gathering about his espionage activities. My visit to the Chambers Flower Shop had kicked a wasp's nest, it seemed. I was getting too close to something someone didn't want me to know.

I couldn't tell the major this, of course. Perhaps I had been a fool to ever think that I could. No matter that keeping things from him was what had come between us, I could never be open with him now.

If he knew that my father had been spying for Germany, he might change his mind about the nature of the work he'd caught me doing. He might not believe that my intentions had been good. He might believe I was a spy.

And so I shook my head again. "I don't know anyone who would want to hurt me. He must have been lying to you."

He looked at me, his eyes on my face. They had taken on a steely cast. I had always noticed that the violet drained out of them when his emotions were strongest.

He knew I was lying, but he also knew he couldn't force me to tell him the truth. He no longer had the privilege of my confidence.

As for someone trying to kill me, I had to believe it was an exaggeration. I might have been killed several times throughout the past week. No, it had only been meant to scare me off. A warning that I should stop asking questions.

Unfortunately, threats often had the effect of making me do just the opposite of what whoever was threatening wanted.

"That's not the only reason I've come," he said.

I waited. Despite everything, there was still the teeniest flicker of hope that he might make some kind of personal confession.

"This cannot go beyond this room."

I nodded.

"Captain Blandings came to see me this morning. We were seeing to a few loose ends, but he also wanted to share an intercepted German missive he received yesterday. As you know, a great many refugees are making their way to Portugal in hopes of making it out of the Continent. There has also been work setting up an escape line for POWs through the Pyrenees to Lisbon."

My heart thudded heavily at the words, as though it already knew what they meant.

"Blandings told me the intercepted note spoke of three escaped POWs who were en route, and one of the names caught his attention: T. McDonnell. The description the Germans gave fits your cousin."

Toby. I gasped, my body stepping toward Ramsey of its own accord. "Does Archie know when he escaped? How far he might have come in this time?"

My legs felt limp with relief, and he must have sensed it, for he reached out to support my elbow.

"We don't have any more information than what I've given you, but it does seem possible your cousin is making his way to Lisbon with the Germans on his trail."

I felt a dizzying wave of emotions. Elation, relief, fear. "What can be done to find him?"

He hesitated, his expression grim.

"Blandings is working to get in touch with his informants. The escape line is, of course, closely guarded. It would be disastrous if information about it fell into German hands."

I nodded. "But Toby may be close to Lisbon already. The information could be old."

"Even if your cousin does make it to Lisbon, there will be danger. The Gestapo isn't going to let a little thing like Portuguese neutrality thwart them. If they catch him, they'll do everything in their power to get information about the route and anyone who helped him."

If possible, I went colder. He was talking about torture. There was no telling what Toby had endured already, but the thought of his suffering any more made me sick.

"What can I do?" I asked. "Surely there's something I can do to help him."

He didn't look happy about what he was about to say, but he said it anyway. "Blandings went over my head to Colonel Radburn. Radburn feels it is imperative for you and I to go to Lisbon."

I was shocked at the suggestion. So shocked I said nothing.

"With your cousin's help, we can help Blandings build up his information about the escape line and do what is possible to help future escapees." The major's eyes met mine. "Radburn doesn't know, of course, about what has happened between us. And I'm afraid this doesn't change what we discussed. This is not technically my mission. You'll be working for Blandings."

In other words, he was here against his will, and he still wanted nothing to do with me.

"Radburn, obviously, cannot order you to do anything," he said, when I still didn't answer. "The decision of whether to go is up to you."

So things were not quite over with Major Ramsey yet. I held out no hopes about romance—he could not have made his feelings on the matter any plainer—but my first focus was on Toby. If I could find a way to help him, if I could find a way to get him back to London, it would go a long way toward putting my shattered life back together.

I had been dismissed by Ramsey; Felix was going to be risking his life in France; but, perhaps, I could get Toby home.

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "Yes. I'll go to Lisbon."