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

sneaky old devil. He was still finding new boxes for you every year? I thought that had stopped.”

She shook her head. “No. The last few have been near impossible to figure out,” she admitted.

“And he gave you one before he left for Poland?”

“Yes. I worked on it for three days after he left, but then I went back to Scotland and left it here. After Rob told me what happened, I pulled it out and started again. It will take time, but I’ll figure it out. I’ll take it with me when I leave.”

Bill pursed his lips together and slowly shook his head.

“No,” he said softly. “Leave it here for now. It will be safer here. If it really does have something inside, this is the best place for it.”

“Unless they come back,” she argued. “I can’t leave it here and put my mother at risk.”

They both glanced over to the sofa where Madeleine and Marguerite had their heads together, laughing over something they were looking at in a magazine.

“She won’t be at risk,” Bill said after a moment. “I’ll send someone to keep an eye on things.”

Evelyn gaped at him. “What?”

“Don’t look so shocked. I’ll arrange for a footman or gardener, or something. Someone who will keep an eye out and alert us to anything. We can’t wait almost two months to find out something happened again.”

She chewed her lip for a minute, then nodded slowly.

“That would certainly set my mind at ease,” she admitted. “I know Rob is worried. He said as much this afternoon. When the servants start to join up, he’s worried that Mum will only be left with the older ones who won’t be much use against an intruder. I know he’s wishing I wasn’t away from home now.”

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Bill said with a quick nod. “In the meantime, leave the box here and work on it when you come to visit.”

“What if it’s time sensitive?”

“I’d rather risk that than have it lost or destroyed by moving it around.” Bill finished his brandy and set the glass down. “And given your penchant for getting yourself into sticky situations, I think it’s safer here.”

Evelyn made a face at him but couldn’t argue. The box would be safer in her wardrobe than in a room on a RAF base where people came and went practically at will.

“Evie!” Rob called from across the room. “Come tell Miles about the time you made it to London in the Lagonda in two hours and twenty minutes. He doesn’t believe me!”

Bill smiled and winked at her.

“Go and enjoy yourself,” he said. “Forget about work for a while. It’s Christmas, after all.”

Evelyn nodded and turned walk towards her brother and Miles. It was easy for him to say that. He wasn’t the one who had a box with a secret in it, a secret that was apparently worth breaking into a country manor over.

A secret that she had no idea how to get to.

Evelyn sighed and tucked her feet up beside her comfortably. A large, cheerful fire crackled in the hearth, casting a comfortable glow over the study. She smiled as Miles handed her a glass of sherry before taking the chair across from her. After her mother had gone to bed, they had come into the study with Rob. But after smoking a cigarette, he’d cast Evelyn a sly grin and taken himself off, leaving her alone with Miles.

“Your brother isn’t very subtle, is he?” Miles asked, sitting back and crossing his legs.

“Not very, no,” she agreed with a laugh. “Do you mind?”

He smiled slowly. “Not a bit.”

“I hope this wasn’t all too strange for you,” she said after a moment. “It’s been a very odd Christmas. We’re usually much more lively than this.”

“I imagine it’s not easy, being the first holiday without your father.”

“It’s not,” she said frankly, shaking her head. “I don’t think I was fully prepared for how difficult it would be. One realizes, of course, that things will be different, but I suppose I didn’t think of the little things.”

“Like the goose?”

Evelyn nodded. When they sat down to dinner and the roast goose was set on the table, there was a moment sheer panic as Mrs. Ainsworth and her children all stared at each other. None of them had even considered who would carve it. It was always her father’s pride and joy to do it.

“Thank goodness for B—Mr. Buckley,” she said. “If he hadn’t stepped in, I don’t know what would have happened. Robbie can’t cut anything to save his life.”

Miles grinned.

“I expect he would have just torn it apart with his hands and chucked it onto our plates like a cricket ball.”

Evelyn choked on her sherry as she laughed.

“That’s probably exactly what he would have done!” she gasped, her eyes watering. “Good heavens. Here’s to Mr. Buckley!”

Mile raised his glass and sipped his brandy.

“I wish I’d got the opportunity to meet your father,” he said slowly. “Rob’s told me some stories. I think I would have liked him.”

Evelyn smiled. “He would have liked you.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes.”

They were quiet for a moment and then Evelyn shook her head.

“We’re in danger of being thrust into a maudlin silence,” she announced, “and that will never do. Tell me why you became a pilot.”

“I’ve always loved flying. I talked your brother into taking lessons down at the auxiliary flying club near university. Never looked back after the first day.”

“What about your father? What did he say?”

Miles shrugged. “Not much, actually. He knew I wasn’t cut out for a career in politics. I think by that point he was just hoping I wouldn’t bankrupt him before I finished university.”

Evelyn grinned. “Was that a possibility?”

“Me? Not a chance. I’m an angel, m’dear, the perfect son.” He winked. “After it became clear that the flying wasn’t just a passing phase, he warmed up to the idea. I think he’s rather proud to have a son in the RAF now.”

“What will you do when the war’s over?