I hoped the thought of food wouldn’t set my stomach to grumbling and remove whatever dignity I might have left.
“You needn’t keep the veil over your face,” he said, when the waitress had gone away. “It was merely a precaution.”
“A precaution against what?” I lifted up the veil and, as it was all quite damp, removed my hat altogether and set it aside.
I could only imagine what state my hair was in. It had a natural wave to it, which was convenient when it decided to cooperate. Alas, it had rebelled against the pins this evening, and I suspected it appeared as unkempt as the rest of me.
The major, however, was either too polite or, more likely, too uninterested to notice.
“Against anyone taking note of you.”
“Then oughtn’t we have met back at your dungeon instead of a public place?”
“My dungeon?” he repeated.
“Where you’re keeping my uncle.”
For the first time since I had met him, I saw a glimmer of amusement in his expression. “I can assure you your uncle is being well cared for. He has had to face neither the rack nor the wheel. But you don’t have to take my word for it.”
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew an envelope. My name was written on the outside in Uncle Mick’s familiar hand. It was ridiculous, but my throat clenched at the sight of it and I had to fight to keep tears from springing to my eyes.
I took the envelope and slid it into my pocket.
“Don’t you want to read it?” he asked.
“I’ll read it later.”
“Very well. And, to answer your question, it’s perfectly safe to talk freely here. Sitting in this corner of the room, it’s difficult to be heard unless one is quite near.”
I glanced around, realizing now how perfectly chosen the pub was as a place to have a quiet conversation. There were several people eating and drinking, and the sound of talk and laughter and utensils against plates filled the room. Added to this was the steady patter of rain against the roof and the cracking and popping of wood in the fireplace.
No one was paying the least bit of attention to us. Well, some of the women were looking at Major Ramsey, but I was fairly certain that interest went no further than the superficial.
Was he married? I wondered suddenly. I glanced at his hand. There was no ring, but that was neither proof nor disproof that there was a Mrs. Ramsey somewhere, waiting for him to come home tonight.
I tried to imagine what sort of woman might willingly tie herself to a man like this. He had more than his fair share of good looks, it was true. And from his polished demeanor and elevated rank, I guessed there was probably money and breeding, too. But what was all of that when measured against his callous superiority?
And, anyway, what did it matter to me if he was married? Nothing at all.
“Will you tell me more about the job now?” I asked.
“In good time.”
The waitress brought our plates and the tea then, and I was suddenly very eager to eat. It seemed the major was happy to see the food as well, for he cut into his pie at once. I poured the tea.
We ate for a while in a comfortable silence. I supposed each of us were lost in our own thoughts. One might have assumed, given the circumstances, that the meal would be unpleasant, but the food was good, the fire was beginning to warm me, and I had proof that Uncle Mick was all right. All things considered, it was a fairly cheery scene.
As for the major, it was easy enough to ignore him when there was a hot steak and kidney pie before me, and no doubt he felt the same way.
After a few minutes, though, he pushed aside his plate and turned his attention to me.
“As you know, I’ve asked you here this evening to discuss the operation. We’re working on a limited time schedule, so we’ll have to be quick. I trust you’re ready to go to work?”
“I’m at your disposal,” I said. If he detected the trace of sarcasm in my words, which he probably did, he gave no sign of it.
“Our target date is Friday.”
This was Wednesday. It was sooner than I had imagined it might be, but I was sure Major Ramsey and his people had done a good deal of the research for me. If they could get me