“Very good, Brigadier,” she said, then turned to open a file and gaze at it, dismissing him.

Fife-Simpson marched out. Felicity breathed a sigh of relief.

22

Stone was reading in the library the following day when Rose let herself in, then sat in his lap. “Watch out for Winston Churchill,” he said, moving the book to a side table. “You could bruise yourself.”

She kissed him fulsomely. “I’m glad to see you,” she said.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, kissing her back. “Your arrival was the signal to the staff to get lunch ready. Would you like something first?”

“Perhaps a glass of sherry.”

Stone got up, took a decanter from the bar, and poured her a glass.

“Mmmm,” she said, tasting it. “Delicious. What is it?”

“It’s a dry Oloroso,” Stone replied. “Called Dos Cortados.”

“I thought Olorosos were sweet,” she said.

“Most are, this one isn’t.” He poured himself one, and they settled into the Chesterfield sofa.

“Tell me,” she said. “I’ve heard from a friend or two that someone has been asking questions about me. Would that have anything to do with you?”

“I expect it has something to do with the fact that I have two very good friends who want to know all about everybody who has anything to do with me.”

“I expect I can guess who they are.”

“I expect you can.”

“Was there anything they didn’t tell you that you want to know?”

“A great deal, but right now only one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“Why did you place St. George’s Hospital at Hyde Park Corner?”

“Well, I didn’t want to tell anybody that I’m working down at Tooting,” she said, laughing. “Hyde Park Corner sounds so much better.”

“Perhaps to anyone who doesn’t possess an A to Z Guide,” Stone said. “I’m surprised to know that you haven’t been trained to lie better than that.”

“They didn’t train me to lie at medical school.”

“Then that explains why you do it so badly.”

“I expect so.”

“I’m curious, though. Why did you hang on to your married name when you were divorced?”

“Because I didn’t want my fellow students and professors to know that I was being divorced,” she said. “I just didn’t want to explain. However, I can tell you that I recently signed a number of letters to various organizations, including the medical registry, informing them that my name has been changed to Mary Rose McGill Balfour, and to correct their records to that effect. I left the McGill in there so that anyone looking for me by that name might find it.”

“How transparent of you,” Stone said. “So now you’re a farmer’s daughter again?”

“I always was.”

“The only McGill in the county of Rutland is a bookmaker.”

“That must have confused your nosy friends.”

“Momentarily.”

“Do you have any other names besides Stone and Barrington?”