when I spoke of someone following her. Besides, how much can one learn while accepting a drink?”
The next few hours they sat in silence. The quiet caused her eyelids to droop. Her body jerked at the pounding upon the outer door. Max jumped from his seat and raced to the front entrance before Olga rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Gustav entered. Olga retrieved refreshments. When she returned, Gustav and Max huddled in deep discussion. Their voices silenced. The items on the tray rattled as she forcefully placed it on the table.
“Have you not explained my involvement, husband? Or are there new secrets you wish to keep from me?”
Gustav came forward and kissed her brow. “Dear sister, I’m sorry. I forget you two share everything.”
“We do. And what of Teresa? Does she know where you rest your head?”
“She does.” His smile of genuine affection melted her hardness.
“Good. I assume Max told you our findings?”
“He did.”
“Did he tell you about the people we met?” She gave him time to nod before continuing. “I believe it is the lady. It would be the perfect ruse. Who would suspect a lady of means to be passing on secret messages?”
“Perhaps.”
“Gustav, you know I’m right. Those two old men could never travel and retrieve the information—“
“We don’t know that. Lyle Lamar travels to Scotland to visit his daughter on a regular basis. While there, Lyle is known to frequent similar activities as those of Joshua. I dare say the man attends at least half of the places in question. We believe if we continue to follow the clues Joshua’s left behind, we will discover the contact eventually.”
Her husband frowned. “Dear brother, have you yet to hear?”
“Hear what?” asked Gustav.
Olga’s mouth formed an “o” of shock. Maximilian proceeded. “Gustav, Joshua is dead.”
Gustav searched their faces for any conflicting thoughts between them. “B-but this can’t be! He was in France last week! He assured Jean and I that he would acquire the message upon his next visit to London. What happened?”
As Olga listened to her husband relate the story of Joshua’s, or rather Reginald Spalding’s, demise, worries beset her. Gustav shouldn’t have been surprised by the spy’s death. After all, hadn’t he been the one to send the directive to search for L.L. amongst the patrons of the private art collection?
Olga chewed on her fingernails as she fretted. Something was amiss. If her brother didn’t know of Joshua’s death, then perhaps he hadn’t sent them the message to search for L.L. That could only mean someone else had. By following the orders, had they just revealed all their leads? And if so, who had they revealed them to?
Chapter Forty
The afternoon spent in the park was both wonderful and depressing. Wonderful in the sense that their relationship grew with each passing moment, depressing in the sense no one appeared who could perhaps be the new contact.
Although most of Lucy’s attention was focused on Bryce, she also managed to scan the grassy fields for passersby wearing familiar signs. For one in particular, that of the compass.
Each special member of their Huguenot movement received a small compass that they kept on their person as identification. Normally the item was worn, sometimes as a necklace or as cuff links. It was the only sign Lucy knew to look for.
As the afternoon waxed on and Bryce gathered their things back into the basket, an uneasy feeling descended. With a turn of her neck and a swoosh of her hair, Lucy caught a man paying them an undue amount of attention.
With a smile on her face, Lucy whispered to Bryce, “Don’t look now, but we have a watcher.”
“Is it yer contact?”
“I don’t believe so. Let’s pack our stuff and head for home, and see what happens.”
For the entire trip, Lucy squeezed Bryce’s arm. Even though this made Bryce aware of her turmoil, she knew there was little he could do. Covert glances revealed the stranger still followed. Behind a corner of a building, peeking out from a carriage, everywhere they tried to hide, the man could still be seen. At one point he seemed to leave them and head down an alley. Lucy released a pent-up breath yet the relief was short-lived, as the man once again appeared only a few steps behind them.
They reached the front steps of Lucy’s home but Bryce held back. “We did close the door, didn’t we?”
“Aye,” she whispered.
Bryce led the way inside, slowly pushing the already-ajar door further open. A rush of air escaped his throat. “Lucy, I’m