And he couldn’t quite imagine anyone else in that traditional place by his side, not now that he’d met her. He didn’t know what marriage to her would look like. Didn’t even know if she’d agree to it anytime soon, whether she came to care for him or not. But one thing he grew more certain of with every conversation they had.

She was worth waiting for. Worth seeking hour by hour, day by day, month by month. Year by year. Even if it took him a decade to convince her to be his, it would be worth it. And the wait would only make him appreciate her all the more.

His work in the field had taught him patience. Perseverance. Lessons he’d use now, with her.

For now, it was enough to peel potatoes by her side, if that’s all she’d grant him. He smiled and turned back to it, only glancing over at her now and then. “One thing I’ve learned about you already, Margot De Wilde—you’re a formidable force when you’ve set your mind to a thing. You’ll find a place at whatever university you want. So . . . which do you fancy?”

Her posture shifted, her shoulders easing into the relaxed posture that they’d taken on when speaking of her family. Of people or places she loved. “King’s College. Several of the cryptographers are from there—I think I’d be a good fit.”

And it was in London. Excellent. “You don’t mean to go back to Belgium?”

“To visit. But it isn’t home anymore. Assuming, of course, that I’m allowed to stay here.”

Dot laughed. “I imagine DID can pull a few strings for you, Margot.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Drake smiled into his spuds. He would count on it too.

23

I love to watch you and try to imagine the thoughts pouring through your mind. Are they ordered and calm or a whirling dervish that would mystify me? I picture them like a whirlwind, each thought a bejeweled raindrop. Beautiful storms of brilliance.

Margot let the words play through her mind again, as they’d been doing all morning when she ought to have been paying attention to the liturgy. Against her will, her eyes tracked Drake where he exchanged a few discreet murmurs with an old friend he’d discovered was in the parish. It was the first he’d made it out of the flat for Mass. He seemed to be reveling in it.

“You seem rather intent on a certain someone.” Willa at least whispered the words, though she made no attempt to disguise the amusement in them.