After their whispering for the last half hour, Lily jumped at the sudden shout. But it blended into the normal noises of the neighborhood and soon had an older fellow who’d been sweeping a doorstep straighten, turn, brighten.

The chap lifted a hand. “Oi! Barclay!”

Apparently, one of the blokes he knew from here. Barclay hurried to his friend’s side. “The curly-haired blonde—Russian. Know where she’s staying?”

Quigley scoffed. “Everyone does, so we can steer clear of ’er. You saw the building, aye? She’ll be in 5F.”

Barclay turned back to Lily with a smile. “Voilà.”

The urgency that had spurred her on since the park settled into peace. She returned the smile and spread it equally between Barclay and his friend. “We thank you, Mr. Quigley. Now, I’m going to say hello. Barclay, you’d better hurry back to Whitehall and tell Hall and Daddy where I am.”

Barclay’s face went grim. “It could be close to an hour before we get back. Thirty minutes at the least.”

Lily kept her face clear. “That’s all right. I can fill the time.”

He didn’t look appeased. “They’re going to have my head.”

“For keeping me safe? Hardly.” She gave him a little nudge. “Go.”

He grumbled something she didn’t catch and lifted a brow at Quigley.

The old gent grinned. “If she’s one of yours, don’t worry. My sis is in that building. We’ll make sure all’s well.”

It was all the reassurance Lily needed. Without waiting for any more arguments from Barclay, she crossed the street.

By the time she stood before the door with a tin 5F on it, she’d had so many second thoughts that she hadn’t bothered counting them. She could turn around, even now. But still that undercurrent of peace flowed through her heart. And so she raised her hand and knocked.

For Zivon.

“Quoi?” The French “what?” sounded irritated and raspy a second before the door was yanked open. The blonde’s eyes went wide.

Lily smiled and forced her tongue to wrap around French. Thank heavens Ivy had taught it to her pupils and so had used it a bit at home, otherwise Lily would probably have forgotten what she’d learned in her own school days. “Did someone need a nurse?”

She’d taken this Nadya by surprise, that was certain. “No.” The door started to shut.

Lily stopped it with a hand and a lifted brow. Letting the smile fall, she said, “I have the photograph you want. Let me in. We can make a trade.”

A war raged through Nadya’s eyes. “Zivon has it.”

“He did. He gave it to me weeks ago, before he knew what it signified.” Moving slowly, she reached down, into her pocket.