spoken since that day at the flat; he could tell she was waiting for him to say something. How was it that he felt so much yet could express so little? Could he admit his dreams of a future with her turned to nightmares under the sure knowledge that he didn’t deserve any of this—her, happiness, life?
And so he kept silent because he couldn’t understand what he felt and even less how to share it all with her.
Upon learning the Major had returned to Germany, Edward had expected his mother to be relieved, with one less enemy, especially one lurking in the house. Except she hardly looked happy at all.
And in the last few days a new nuisance had arisen.
“Is she still up there?” Edward asked Isa when she pushed open the door.
“I went out the front door on my ‘errand’ while Genny sat with her in the parlor so I could reenter the kitchen and come back down here.”
“You shouldn’t have taken the risk while she’s still here.”
“I don’t know when she’s leaving. It’s getting late and we still have so much to do.”
“I’m working on it,” Edward said.
“And it’ll take twice as long for you alone,” she said. “All the depots are set up for noon tomorrow for this next issue. It must be done.”
She didn’t need to tell him that. She was every bit as conscientious about work as Edward himself. But he didn’t like anyone taking risks—most especially Isa. Having Pierrette Guillamay around made everything a risk.
“I know you don’t like her, Edward, but—”
“I never said I didn’t like her.”
“You don’t trust her.”
Edward glanced at Isa. “I trust few people these days.”
“That’s because you don’t know her. She’s a friend.”
He shrugged. That didn’t make any difference.
“I wish you would give her a chance. I think she might be of some help.”
“Recruiting her for La Libre Belgique?”
“No. It’s just that she’s so bored since her shop closed. And she seems patriotic.”
“That may be true. But more than a few people have been arrested for trusting the wrong person.”
If she’d argued, he might have argued back, but she tended to her work again instead. A benefit of his confession of love? They hadn’t argued since that day.
He left the press and stood before her. “I admire your capacity to believe the best in people. And I trust your judgment. Perhaps, if there is a way to check into Pierrette’s past, we can do as you say. Invite her help.”
She gave him one of those smiles he dreamed of, the one that said she admired him, his decisions, and everything he did to protect her.
It was all he could do not to take her into his arms.
* * *
Isa flipped her braid out of her way. Typesetting was laborious work, calling for patience and concentration, but she’d finished some time ago and Edward had the press running full steam.
Sometimes she believed she’d dreamed what happened in the flat. But he’d told her he loved her. She’d kissed him, and he’d kissed her back. All regular components in the long-held romance of her imagination.
And yet the results had been far from a dream come true. Since then they’d only worked harder, with an increased determination to make sure the paper was distributed. Safely, securely. And as regularly as possible.
One thing was certain: doing that demanded all the energy she had to give. And lately, that was considerable.
The press quieted and both of them set about bundling.
“Now whose stomach is growling?” Isa asked. He used to tease her about the protests her empty stomach made, but she’d distinctly heard his just now.
He didn’t look up, just kept working. “Amazing how you can do that.”
“Do what?”
He glanced at her with the first grin in two weeks. “Make your stomach noises sound like they’re coming from me. What form of ventriloquism is that, exactly?”
She took a step away from the table that was strewn with paper and stretched to relieve a stitch in her back. “Let’s go upstairs for something to eat.”
“Better check the all-clear light first.”
“Oh, I’m sure Pierrette is gone by now. She’s never stayed this long.”
“Isa—”
“You’re so cautious! All right, all right.”
They turned off the light just long enough to see that the all-clear light was not ignited.
Isa frowned, pressing the button to light the overhead again. “Maybe your mother forgot. Pierrette cannot still be here.”
Edward shook his head. “She wouldn’t forget.”
“Maybe she fell asleep.”
Edward lifted a brow. She could see he thought that a possibility. Sleep was all Genny