“Bah,” said Graham. “Who hasn’t lost a garter or two? I’m waiting for someone to be kidnapped atop an unreachable spire, thus requiring my daring rescue.”

Philippa hesitated. “If the spire is unreachable…”

“Ignore him,” Tommy said. “He thinks all of that is fascinating, no matter his claims to the contrary. That’s why he never stops reading it.”

“I pause on occasion.” A book came flying out from behind his broadsheet. “There’s the intelligence on Northrup.”

Tommy caught it with her left hand and handed it to Philippa.

The last dozen pages contained an extremely detailed family tree, and the rest were filled with answers to every possible query anyone could think of to have about Captain Northrup. Philippa paged through it in wonder.

“He dislikes chocolate?” she asked.

Elizabeth shuddered. “He’s a monster.”

“We already knew that,” Graham said. “In fact, Northrup’s commanding officer, one Brigadier-General Boswick, doubted Northrup had invented the cipher on his own. According to my sources, Boswick made inquiries as to who might have helped, but nothing came of it. In the absence of evidence to the contrary, he and other doubters were forced to accept Northrup’s claim as truth.”

“Aargh.” Philippa clenched her fingers. “I know no one will listen to the unpopular opinions of a bluestocking, but—”

Another book came flying out from behind Graham’s newspaper. Tommy caught it with her right hand and handed it to Philippa.

Graham lowered his broadsheet. “You don’t think the intelligence you provide is just as valuable as mine?”

“No…I…” Philippa paged through the journal. Even her observations of the markings on her illuminated manuscript had been faithfully re-created, probably by Marjorie. All of the Wynchesters’ contributions were annotated. All of the Wynchesters…and Philippa.

She was important. She had contributed to the Wynchesters’ intelligence gathering. Her heart warmed.

“At the ball, I saw you stand for a set with Northrup,” Tommy said. “Did he say anything that might be of use?”

“Only that my father spoke to him.” Philippa grimaced. “It’s supposed to be the other way around. Northrup assures me he’s not disinterested in a union but is not yet ready to make an official offer.”

“That sounds like there will be an official offer.” Tommy frowned. “Perhaps sooner than we’d like.”

“We cannot send him to the devil.” Jacob cupped a baby hedgehog in his palm. “Not yet.”

Graham tilted his head and considered Philippa. “Your excellent reputation is another asset.”

She sat up straighter. Her bland, unobjectionable reputation had always been her most important attribute, according to her parents. Society’s opinion was more important than Philippa the person. She thrilled at the idea her pristine reputation might be used for exacting justice. That it was a tool she possessed, but her entire person was helpful and valued.