“It’s a little worrisome, Miss Delacroix,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick said. “That basket wasn’t here when I closed the kitchen last night, but there it sat when I unlocked things this morning. I asked the overnight guard about it, and he swore he didn’t put them here.”

She couldn’t imagine how Luke had gotten these to her, but she needed to quit underestimating him. Over the past few years he’d been running rings around all of them. A few months ago, he even helped Gray orchestrate a prank against their family’s archrival, all from his jail cell in Cuba. If anyone could figure out how to smuggle a basket of artichokes into the White House, it was Luke.

“The house is locked up tight as a drum overnight,” Betsy said. “Even the door at the end of the hall leading into the kitchen gets locked to stop anyone from getting into the wine cellar when no one is looking.”

That hallway had the only door into the kitchen, but slim windows high on the wall could open, letting a little natural light into the basement. Caroline ran her fingers along the windowsill and came away with plenty of dust. No one had come in through that window last night.

How could someone break into the kitchen? It was an appalling lapse in security, but she affected a casual tone.

“It must be someone on the staff,” she said, picking up the basket with a bright smile. “Don’t give it another thought.”

But Caroline thought about it for hours. All through the morning as she answered Mrs. McKinley’s mail, her thoughts constantly strayed to the basket of artichokes. It was impossible to stop the helpless smile that tugged on her mouth. It was so classically Luke. He loved pranks, and this was a good one. It had his signature all over it, even if she couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d done it or what he could possibly have planned for November.

At ten o’clock she headed down to the White House mail room, where a telephone was on hand for staff use. She had to wait in line for it, but this call wouldn’t take long. All she wanted was to ask Gray if he was responsible for the artichokes, but the butler at their townhouse said Gray wasn’t available.

“He’s headed to the War Department to meet with that Lieutenant Ransom fellow.”

Philip Ransom was Luke’s best friend. They’d been roommates at the Naval Academy, even though they seemed ridiculously mismatched. In contrast to Luke’s roguish charm, Philip was so bashfully shy that she’d teasingly dubbed him Philip the Meek. It was a kinder nickname than what his fellow midshipmen at the Naval Academy called him, which was Twinkle Toes.