Miss Atkins only nodded, and for that, Sophie was grateful. She didn’t insist that Sophie would be fine, because she couldn’t know that. Nor did she try to gently temper Sophie’s expectations that her brother would ever return or that he might yet be alive. The woman across from Sophie said nothing. She simply picked up the letter and added it to the envelope with Sophie’s ring.

A sharp rap on the door made Sophie twist in her seat. Miss Atkins slid the envelope and the file with Sophie’s name into a desk drawer.

“Come in,” she called.

Colonel Buckmaster strode into the room, a man Sophie had never seen at his heels. The newcomer walked with a stoop and a pronounced limp and was perhaps fifty, his dark blond hair greying at the temples and heavily brilliantined away from his forehead. He had a fair complexion and brown eyes partially hidden behind a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles.

The colonel stopped and gestured toward his charge. “Sophie Beaufort, may I introduce Gerard Beaufort.”

Sophie had known that there would be no real names used but to be introduced by a different name brought the enormity and gravity of what she was about to do sharply into focus. Miss Atkins had referred to him as Tempo. From this moment, Sophie would think of him only as Gerard, her husband. Till death do them part.

Slowly, Sophie stood.

“Good God, you’re a bloody Amazon,” Gerard muttered, looking Sophie up and down.

Behind him, Buckmaster winced.

Sophie merely extended her hand. “Sophie Beaufort,” she said. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Gerard only grunted. He straightened as he strode forward to shake her hand, his shoulders broadening and his limp disappearing. Sophie rapidly revised her estimation of his age. Closer to forty, she guessed. He might lack tact, but one could not fault his ability to appear as something he wasn’t.

“Shall we get down to business?” Miss Atkins asked, her voice cutting through the space.

“Indeed,” Gerard declared. He waited for Sophie to resume her seat before taking the empty chair next to her. Buckmaster took up a position behind Miss Atkins, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

“Since you are both familiar with your cover stories, let’s not waste time,” Miss Atkins started. “You will be inserted into France southeast of Rouen, at a farm near Gasny, as soon as conditions allow. You will be met by a reception committee of Resistance agents who are expecting you. From there, you will travel to Paris, where you will make contact with a woman who will be able to provide you both with the social introductions you will require at the hotel.”

“She is part of the Resistance also?” Sophie asked curiously.

Buckmaster cleared his throat. “Yes. In a way.”

Sophie didn’t bother to ask Buckmaster for clarification.