I’d just pulled the door shut when the room brightened with candlelight, a seam of it appearing where the wardrobe doors met. I cringed, seeing that I had shut them on my petticoats. My gown would be visible on the other side.

“Well, Lieutenant Blake. You’ve taken me away from the charms of the exquisite Miss Delaney. Tell me you have good reason for it.”

I’d know that elegant English voice anywhere. Against all my better judgment, I leaned forward, my thighs shaking, and peered through the tiny gap. There he was, leaning one hip against the desk, his back to me. Major André.

“I believe I do, Major,” replied a young officer. “I have news from Philadelphia.” I had a poor angle on him, but I could see that he was tall. Even taller than Asa. “Very good news.”

“Now I am awake.” André set the candle down on the stacks of paper I had just rifled through and crossed his arms. “Go on.”

I was seconds from being discovered. I still had the key in my hand. My hoops strained against the wardrobe doors, and the boxes I was perched on were slowly sliding out from beneath me.

“Earlier this week, we seized several reams of paper Congress uses to print their dollar. The very same paper, sir. And enough of it to draw blood. The particulars are here. I thought you might want to know sooner rather than later.”

André took the letter from the officer and slipped it into his coat. “Well done, Lieutenant Blake. You were right to tell me. You may go now.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Lieutenant Blake left, shutting the door behind him.

For long moments, André remained in perfect stillness. Surely he heard my runaway breathing. My thundering heart. Any moment, he was going to come over and wrench open the wardrobe.

“Thank you, Lord,” he said, and another long silence stretched out. Finally, he released a long, tired exhale and swept the candle up. “Weariness, thy name is war,” he murmured, and pushed to his feet.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, I collapsed. Sweat tickled down my spine. My breath raced and raced; I was never going to be able to catch it. I couldn’t believe what had almost happened. And I felt cruel, witnessing André in such a private and vulnerable moment.

Suddenly, I was spent, but I had to return the key to the snuffbox and hurry back downstairs. I’d been gone much too long.

I climbed out of the wardrobe, and froze when the door opened again.

A male figure stood at the threshold. For an instant, I thought it was André, returning. Then I saw the silhouette of a cane.

“What are you doing here?” Asa asked.

“It’s no concern of yours,” I snapped. I’d brought my hand to my stomach in my surprise—and the key was inside my fist. There’d be no replacing it now. “If you’ll excuse me.” I rounded the desk.