To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,42

process at the same time until someone broke through. As it is just me, it is neither efficient nor effective.” He rubbed at his eyes with a wry exhale. “Weaver wants us to find answers to questions we haven’t asked yet so that we can stop being a step behind the Faction. I feel as though I need to write him with the unfortunate revelation that we are four steps behind at least.”

“Why in the world would they send just two of us when an entire team is needed?” Hal muttered, shaking her head. “A fool’s errand, if ever I’ve heard one. I can intercept every letter I can nick from Leclerc’s pockets, but without the means to translate them, it isn’t useful. And without that information, my drawing abilities don’t help us at all.” She managed a quick smile. “Unless we start tracking Leclerc like one of Gent’s children. Note every person he associates with and every location he frequents. Infiltrate his household, perhaps.”

John had to laugh at the idea, which also helped to relieve his present tension somewhat. “It is likely because it is a fool’s errand that they only sent us. They can’t spare the operatives and assets, and it’s clear that if letters have been intercepted before, they haven’t had success in deciphering them.”

Hal grunted a noncommittal sound. “Which leaves us nowhere and with nothing to go on.”

“Correct.” He gave her a flat smile. “Any success on placing Monsieur Fontaine with a mission?”

She shook her head, her frown deepening. “No. I can’t risk sending out the drawing I’ve made with his name, no matter how secure Ruse might think the connections between here and England are. I’ve never wanted to know the details of missions and assignments before, but now…”

He let the silence hang between them rather than attempt an answer.

“Well,” he finally said on an exhale, “should we go out? Attempt to find something else to occupy our minds or find other connections?”

Hal raised a brow at him. “We’ve been to gatherings almost every night since we’ve arrived in Paris, and you want to go out again? To what purpose? Our list of potential suspects goes beyond two pages because we have no means of paring it down.”

“Why not just go out for ourselves?” John inquired in a tone much lower than he intended, hesitancy nearly choking him as soon as the words left his mouth.

He was not a social creature; Hal was not a social creature. Why would they intentionally be social without a purpose? A quiet evening at home was far more his style and his taste, and he suspected she was much the same.

Suddenly, he could picture the pair of them sitting in a quiet parlor far from their present one, a book in his hand and an easel before her. A fire flickered in the room, and its crackling accompanied a clock as the only sounds to be heard. Peaceful, comfortable, and natural. Such contentment in one image!

And Hal being there was the best of all contentment.

How could that be?

“I hadn’t considered that,” Hal murmured, bringing him back to the suggestion he’d had that he now wanted to take back. “What a relief it would be to be alone.”

Or perhaps he’d been a genius after all.

“Indeed,” he managed. “We could even go to the opera.”

Now he was completely, entirely, and undoubtedly mad.

Hal must have thought the same by her present expression.

“The opera?” she laughed. “You have intentions to suffer this evening?”

He chuckled and shrugged a shoulder, rubbing one arm absently. “It keeps us from having to be particularly social while still actually attending a sociable event. Alone in a room filled with people we have no need to associate with.”

A thudding from out in the corridor followed by peals of giggles made them both sigh, though with amusement more than irritation.

“The opera it is,” Hal all but announced. “Rossini or the other one?”

“Whichever suits you, Ange,” he said, waving off any responsibility of the decision. “I attend so seldom in London that almost anything will be new to me.”

His wife grinned and nodded, rising from her chair. “We’ll try the other, then. I’ve never even heard of it, and it may be interesting if Leclerc enjoys it so.”

“It could also be a perfect opportunity to nap in public,” John pointed out.

“Which would also be a pleasant use of our time,” Hal shot back. Then she wrinkled up her nose. “I suppose it would be polite to at least extend the invitation

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