Perhaps her smile was a little sad, that they were resorting to clever manipulations rather than just enjoying the harmony they’d always had before. But it was a smile nonetheless. “I was thinking I’d invite Brook. Is a duchess important enough?”

Mama laughed. “That’ll do. I’ll go and discuss menu possibilities now with Cook. One o’clock at the front entrance of the OB, if you would.”

Lily promised. “Thank you, Mama,” she then said quietly into the receiver.

Was it her imagination, or was the silence a little lighter this time? “He’s a good man. He deserves better than what he got—and what he’s getting. Not to mention that any man who looks at you as he does is clearly sensible.”

Warmth swelled up like a flood. “I’ll see you at one.”

She rang off and slipped out of the office, hurrying forward when she spotted Ara coming out of the ward. “How is the patient?”

Even with most of her face invisible behind the mask, the horror was plain to see in Arabelle’s hazel eyes. “He’s . . . dead.”

“What?”

Ara shook her head. “I’ve never seen the like. He wasn’t even one of the first to fall ill. He only began complaining of nausea this morning, but he—he suffocated. His chest was clear earlier, but it just filled. . . .”

Lily’s stomach twisted. She reached to grip her friend’s hand. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. There was nothing anyone could do.” Closing her eyes, Arabelle drew in a sharp breath. “Let’s call your shift over, shall we? Go ahead to the OB and deliver that note to Cam for me. I’ll feel better when I know he and Margot and the others are praying.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very. Go.” After giving her fingers a squeeze, Ara pulled her hand free and gave Lily a little nudge.

It felt a bit like abandoning ship, but if that’s what Arabelle most needed, she would get the note to Major Camden with all speed. It took her only a few minutes to leave her mask in the laundry, pull her brolly from the rack, and hurry to the Old Building. After depositing her bag in the darkroom, she climbed the stairs up to the codebreakers’ lair.

It felt strange to aim not for Hall’s office but for the corridor that housed the cryptographers themselves. And she had no idea which room Major Camden called home, so she had to peek into several before she spotted his telltale olive green uniform.

A vaguely familiar secretary smiled up at her. “Hello, Miss Blackwell. May I help you?”

“I have a note for Major Camden from his fiancée.”

The major looked up with a frown, rising from his chair before the secretary could answer. “From Ara? Is everything all right?”