To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,45

her heart was still pounding in her throat, John’s hands protectively at her upper arms.

Ruse grinned in a manner completely unapologetic. “Not quite, but close.” He tipped his cap at them both, choosing to linger in the shadowy interval between buildings. “Message from home.”

Hal stepped closer to him, John just behind. “Yes?”

“There will be a fellow operative in attendance tonight,” Ruse informed them, leaning against the wall rather like Hal had seen Gent do a time or two. “You won’t know him by sight, and he will give no indication he recognizes or knows either of you.”

“Then why tell us at all?” John inquired in the same steady voice he had used before. “Surely, the less we know…”

Ruse nodded once, very firmly. “You won’t know. Not unless it is utterly necessary. But he will be of use if he sees an opportunity.”

“Why haven’t we met with him?” Hal asked, a shiver racing through her with the chill of the breeze. “If he knows something that could aid us, why keep us apart?”

“Truth be told, we were not entirely sure when he would be in Paris next.” Ruse shrugged and nudged his cap up, rubbing a dirty thumb across his brow. “His assignment has been going on for years, and our contact with him is minimal at best. He was in London long enough to report, was told about your assignment, and is here just for tonight, just for this ball.”

Hal looked at John in horror, apprehension weaving its way through her. She saw the same emotions reflected in his eyes. Slowly, they looked at Ruse again.

“Why?” John’s question was slow and filled with a weight that had Hal inching closer to him.

Ruse exhaled once. “Because his contacts tell him that certain Faction members will be meeting tonight at the ball. I don’t know who, and I don’t know where,” he insisted before they could ask the question.

Hal bit her lip to keep from asking it anyway.

“He only said he would feel himself best used to join in the evening with you, step in if he must, but observe if that was all that was required.” Ruse readjusted his cap and looked between them both. “I don’t know what else to tell you. But tonight could be important.”

“Marvelous,” Hal replied. “Is that all?”

Ruse grinned at her, then looked at John. “Is she always like that?”

“Yes,” John grunted, the hand at Hal’s back pressing more fully against her in a gesture of comfort. “This is her polite side.”

Hal forced a cheeky smile for effect.

That made Ruse snort softly. “Right. Enjoy the evening. We’ll be around if you need us.” He nodded at them, then slipped away without another word.

Hal watched him go, then looked up at John. “What is the point of him? Honestly. We didn’t need to know any of that, and we got no information out of anything he said.”

John rolled his eyes heavenward and turned them both back the way they had come. “I haven’t the faintest idea. We’re not alone?”

“But we are,” Hal pointed out. “This operative might not even make himself known to us.”

“To let us know we have work to do tonight?” he offered.

“Because that makes this different from any other night we are out in company.”

“Perhaps he simply wanted to see you.”

Hal paused a step and gave him a derisive look. “Really?”

John chuckled and seemed to consider the idea. “I don’t know, it’s not such a foregone conclusion. You are quite unique, you know, and undeniably pretty.”

“Stop that.” She scowled through her blush, instinctively folding her arms once more.

“It’s true,” her husband insisted in a maddeningly calm voice. “A vision of beauty. Why wouldn’t a man invent a reason to see you?”

Hal’s cheeks would likely never return to their natural shade again. John wasn’t normally so flattering or flirtatious, and she wouldn’t have even called this charming were he any other man. But he wasn’t any other man, and that made his words all the more difficult to hear.

Everything John ever said had a vein of truth, even when teasing.

She couldn’t dwell on what significance that had, considering what had been said.

“Well,” she grumbled as she averted her eyes, “he’d do well to remember that I’m a married woman and have neither the time nor the inclination to indulge his fancies.”

“Too right,” came the firm, almost relieved reply.

She wasn’t about to interpret that either.

Hurrying back to the de Rouvroy home, they parted ways in the parlor to be trussed up for the evening, and barely

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