A striking woman with jet-black hair stood close to Gray. Her smartly tailored suit with its tiny cinched-in waist made Annabelle’s gingham dress feel like a potato sack. Gray and the woman were nestled between a huge tank of vanilla and the brick wall, her hand resting on his arm.

“I was just showing Mrs. Riley the cold extraction process for the vanilla,” he said. “She wanted to learn more about the business. Samantha, this is Anabelle Larkin from the Department of Agriculture. What are you doing here?”

Her mouth went dry as her discomfort grew, for the woman made no move to lift her hand from Gray’s sleeve. There was no wedding ring, and given her close proximity to Gray and the possessive smile floating on her mouth, Annabelle suspected Mrs. Riley had designs on Gray.

“I need to speak with you on a private matter,” she said.

Gray glanced at Mrs. Riley, who didn’t look quite so smug anymore, then back at Annabelle.

“You can speak freely in front of Mrs. Riley.”

“It’s about Luke.”

If possible, the unease on his face deepened. He put an arm around Mrs. Riley’s shoulders and gestured toward the door. “My apologies,” he said to her. “I’ll escort you back to my office, where Mr. Zimmer can bring you a cup of tea. We’ll continue our tour after I’ve completed my business with Miss Larkin.”

Annabelle raced to the window to spy on Gray as he headed back to the factory with Mrs. Riley. She didn’t like the way he lowered his head as if to catch every syllable the elegant lady spoke. Not that she was jealous. It just hurt to see.

She crossed her arms and glowered at Gray’s back. Of course she was jealous! Maybe it was Elaine’s upcoming wedding that made Annabelle feel even more like a spinster. Or maybe it was because she feared that no other man would ever measure up to Gray. If only she’d never met those two generals. If only she’d never been forced to choose between loyalty to her country and loyalty to Gray. Knowing she’d made the right choice didn’t soothe the drumbeat of regret.

After a few moments Gray rejoined her in the distillery, his face drawn and sober. “Yes, Annabelle, what is it?”

“One of my coworkers at Agriculture is tapped into a lot of inside gossip in this city. He thinks Dickie Shuster has more scandal up his sleeve for next week’s article.”

“Obviously.”

“Scandal about Luke. Horace’s wife is a secretary at the War Department, and she swears she handled some paperwork that awarded Luke a diploma from the Naval Academy last year.”