Drake settled back against the pillows, darting only a glance to his right when a chorus of laughter broke out near where the duchess and Nurse Denler were arguing—or pretending to argue—over who would make up the empty cot that was apparently to be filled this afternoon. “She hasn’t already got an education?” According to Dot, most of the secretaries had attended university, at least for a while. Dot was one of the few who hadn’t.

“Not as much a one as she would like. Though I believe she was enrolled at university in Louvain before her father passed away. When she was twelve or thirteen.”

University? At such a young age? He knew his surprise showed on his face. Even so, it didn’t stop a corner of his mouth from tugging up. “Dot did say her new friend is the most intelligent person she’s ever met.”

“Mm. I rather agree with her.” That statement said considerably more than Dot’s claim, given that Admiral Blinker Hall, Director of Intelligence, knew far more people than Dorothea Elton. Still.

Hall shook his head. “And I see I’ve only managed to intrigue you more. Well. I shall leave it to Margot, then, to convince you of the futility of your thoughts.”

“It is surely understandable to be intrigued. I look forward to becoming her friend, at the very least.”

“An infinitely wiser goal. And now I had better be off.” Hall stood, tugging his jacket into place, and motioned to the bag he’d set on the floor. “Would you like me to hand that to you?”

“Please. And thank you for bringing it, sir.” Thoughts of the bag, and hence the other items he’d had on his person that day, bruised the happier thought of a pretty Belgian who could out-think him. “One moment more, if you please. I’m afraid my memory is a bit muddled after I fell. The case I’d slipped into my pocket, with the sample . . . ?” It hadn’t broken, had it? Because if it had, if the tainted sugar had been crushed—Drake could be fairly certain he hadn’t ingested or inhaled any, given the fact that he was still on earth and only in bullet-induced pain, but what of the workers and other intelligence agents who had swarmed the car?

Hall offered a reassuring smile and positioned the bag beside Drake on his cot. “Thoroton sent it ahead of you—perfectly preserved. You apparently protected it as you fell.”

His relief was palpable. “Good. Thank you, Admiral.”

“The thanks go to you for a job well done, Elton. Get back on your feet, and perhaps we’ll get you into the field again before this war is over.” He turned away, then paused and leveled a finger at him. “Tell your sister. By Monday. Understood?”