The Oslo Affair (Shadows of War, #2) by CW Browning (read after .txt) 📗

or twice, she thought her father suspected that she was up to something, but when the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force was instituted over the summer, he seemed to accept her involvement without question. Now, here was Robbie looking for answers; answers she was unable to give.

“Why not?” she countered calmly. “I have to do my bit, so it might as well be in support of pilots like you. And anyway, what else would you suggest? Can you see me as a nurse?”

Rob looked comically horrified. “A nurse? Good God no!”

“Well then.”

“Aren’t you bored?” he asked bluntly, staring at her hard. “I love flying, but I don’t see pushing papers around a desk in Scotland as being all that stimulating for you. You’re as much of a daredevil as I am, if not more.”

Evelyn thought of the rigorous training she’d been undergoing for months, training the likes of which would undoubtedly horrify her brother if he knew. She managed a nonchalant shrug and buried her nose in her brandy glass.

“I’m managing,” she murmured. “There’s some awfully good hunting up there.”

His eyebrows soared into his forehead. “Hunting?”

“Yes. There’s a group of us that go out once in a while on our days off.”

“So you push papers during the day and hunt on your time off?” He sat back in the chair and grinned. “I suppose you have it better off than I thought.”

Evelyn laughed and stood up.

“Stop worrying about me and worry about you and your airplanes,” she said with a grin, setting her glass down on the side board. “I’m going to check on Mum. Are you coming to lunch?”

“I’ll be along. I want to go over some of these papers before I come out and put on a good face for everyone.”

“Fair enough.” Evelyn turned to go to the door. She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Robbie. You’ll be fine. Dad groomed you for this.”

“He may have groomed me for it, but it doesn’t mean I’ll be good at it,” he retorted. “Put me in a cockpit and I’m sure enough of myself. This is a whole different kettle of fish.”

“Rest assured, we won’t let you bankrupt us. If you really start to muck everything up, we’ll take over and force you out.”

He let out a choked laugh.

“Thanks for that.”

She winked. “Don’t mention it.”

Evelyn was crossing the main hall some time later when the butler opened the door to a tall man in an RAF uniform. Catching a glimpse of the familiar blue, she paused to look curiously. After a low-voiced inquiry, the butler stood aside to allow the visitor into the hall and Evelyn’s eyes widened. She swallowed and resisted the urge to smooth her hair as a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside.

“If you’d care to follow me to the drawing room, sir, I’ll let Mr. Ainsworth know you’re here.”

The butler closed the door and held out his hand to take the visitor’s hat. The man handed it over and turned, stopping dead at the sight of her standing in the hall.

“It’s quite all right, Thomas,” Evelyn said smoothly, moving forward with a smile. “I’ll show him to the drawing room. I believe you’ll find Robbie on the terrace.”

Thomas inclined his head, betraying only the mildest surprise at her intervention, and turned to leave the hall. Evelyn turned her smile on the tall man before her.

“I’m Evelyn Ainsworth,” she introduced herself, holding out her hand, “Rob’s sister.”

A smile curved full lips and a dent appeared in one cheek as he reached out a broad, strong hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ainsworth,” he said. “My name’s Lacey, Miles Lacey. I’m a friend of your brother’s. We fly together.”

Looking up into his face, Evelyn swallowed again. Handsome was a wholly inadequate word to describe the man standing before her. Miles Lacey stood well over six feet tall with thick brown hair that fell over his forehead in a careless wave. His eyes were a startling color of green, set above high cheekbones, a straight nose and a strong, firm chin. Only a faint scar near his right eyebrow saved his countenance from being flawless, giving him an air of rakish recklessness that Evelyn found irresistible.

“You’re a pilot as well?” She pulled her hand away and turned to walk across the hall towards the drawing room, taking a deep breath and hoping that he didn’t detect the faint tremor in her voice.

“Yes.” He fell into step beside her and glanced down. “I’m very sorry to intrude at a time like this. I’m on my way to Catterick to get a plane and fly it back to Duxford. The CO asked me to drop something by for Rob on my way.”

“I think he’ll be grateful for the distraction,” she said, opening the door to the drawing room and going in. “It’s been a difficult day.”

“I can only imagine.” Miles followed her into the room. “I understand it was very sudden.”

“Yes, it was.” She walked over to a chair and sank down, motioning him into a seat. “We’re still adjusting, I think. Do you fly Spitfires as well?”

“Yes.” Miles seated himself in the chair opposite. “Rob and I are in the same squadron.”

“And do you love flying as much as he does?” she asked with a grin. “It’s all Robbie could talk about when he joined up.”

Miles shrugged and smiled nonchalantly, but she saw the gleam that entered his eyes. Oh yes. He loved flying.

“I suppose I do,” he admitted. “There’s nothing quite like it. And you? I seem to remember Rob saying you’re in the WAAFs?”

“That’s right.”

He was looking at her with a smile in his eyes, and she felt her lips curving in response.

“Good for you. If you girls give a good show, you’ll be a lot of help.” He tilted his head to study her. “Where’s your station?”

“I’m posted in Scotland.”

Miles gave an exaggerated grimace. “I’m terribly sorry!”

She laughed. “It’s quite all right. I’ve got used to it.”

“I went up to Turnhouse for training in