Page 47 of To Love A Spy
The first skirmish might be hers, but the war was far from over.
The idea of Valencia crossing swords with the French assassin made his fingers twitch. It wasn’t often that he was moved to contemplate murder with his bare hands.
“Do you agree, Monsieur Daggett?” asked Mersault.
Lynsley exhaled slowly, another useful trick he had learned over the years. “I will, of course, have to consider the matter more carefully, and review my own documents.”
“Of course,” said Levalier smoothly. “No need to rush a decision.”
“Actually, my government prefers that I get this business wrapped up as soon as possible,” said Lynsley.
“It would be a shame to deprive Madame Daggett of a lengthy stay in Paris when she appears to be enjoying all the city has to offer,” observed Mersault.
“My wife understands that in my line of work, duty must take precedent over pleasure.”
The two Frenchman exchanged patronizing looks. No doubt wondering how a man could be so pitifully blind to human nature.
Ever the diplomat, Levalier made a polite murmur in response, then rose, signaling to the scribes and clerks that the formal meeting was over. “Did Madame enjoy the theatre and supper?”
“Very much,” allowed Lynsley, as the subordinates gathered up their papers and left the room. “And she was thrilled by your wife’s kind invitation to go shopping today with the ladies.” He took the liberty of substituting his own adjective, seeing as Valencia’s choice of words was unrepeatable in polite company.
“I am glad to hear it,” replied the minister. “We must make sure that we introduce her to all the splendors that Paris has to offer. Even if it is a short stay, I should like it to be a memorable one for her.”
“Indeed,” murmured Mersault with a small smile.
Lynsley inclined his head. “How kind.”
“Indeed, with that in mind, I have taken the liberty of arranging an excursion to the gardens of Malmaison for the day after the morrow,” went on Lavalier. “Madame Daggett mentioned her interest in flowers, so I am sure she will find the grounds of great interest, even at this time of year. They are quite famous, especially for the variety of roses, and although our former empress is not in residence right now, the hothouses are filled with all manner of exotic specimens.”
Valencia wielding a garden trowel?Lynsley repressed a snort of laughter. “Thank you. We shall be delighted to be part of your party. I am sure my wife will be in alt over the opportunity.”
“Excellent. It’s but a short drive from the city. We plan on leaving in the morning. That way, our group can tour the grounds, enjoy a picnic in one of the outdoor pavilions and return before dusk.”
Lynsley flicked a mote of dust from his sleeve. “Is it to be a large group?”
“No more than a dozen or so,” replied Levalier. “Though I may have difficulty limiting your wife’s admirers to a manageable number. There are a great many gentlemen eager to make her acquaintance.”
“Most of the guests will be people you have already met,” offered Mersault. “Rochambert has already accepted, along with Captain Gillemot from the Home Guard.”
“At least we gentlemen will have something more interesting than roses to discuss,” said Lynsley.
“I shall endeavor to ensure that neither you nor your wife are bored,” replied Levalier.
He and Mersault excused themselves and left together. Lynsley waited for a moment, then took his own leave, choosing a roundabout way to the main entrance in order to survey the layout of the building. It was always wise to know the ins and outs of a place. One never knew . . .
The rapidfire tattoo of steps upon the marble tiles brought him to an abrupt halt.
“Monsieur Daggett.”
Lynsley recognized the voice behind him as that of Georges Auberville. So far, the assistant Minister of Maritime Affairs had contributed little to the trade discussions, though surprisingly he had spoken up once or twice in favor of concessions to the Americans.
“I fear you have taken the wrong turn,” continued Auberville after pausing to catch his breath. “This is a more direct way to the street.”
“Confounded corridors,” muttered Lynsley, squinting through his spectacles at the long expanse of smooth white stone. “They all look alike?”
“Yes. Especially if you do not know the twists and turns.”
A cryptic message?The minister seemed a little nervous, but perhaps he was reading more into man’s mannerisms than was merited.
