Page 107 of The Bachelor Spy
John standing stoic and tall.
Miss Gale—Evie, wasn’t it?—poised just inside the doorway, separate from the rest, almost in the shadows.
And Blake, positioned behind Frederick’s desk by the window, and—if Frederick deciphered correctly from his posture—on edge. His blue patient’s uniform appeared rather crumpled, which, if Frederick hadn’t been so focused on the current chaos, he might have teased the man about. Blake did so appreciate his fine suits.
Served him right for bringing his clandestine work into Frederick’s home.
Blake turned his way, raising one blurry brow as if he could read his cousin’s mind.
“How recent?” Frederick asked as he walked forward.
“Careful.” Blake’s hand came out to stop him. “There’s glass behind your desk from the window. Plenty of it, too.”
Frederick paused, slowing his approach.
“From the reports of John and Brandon, they heard the glass shatter no more than three or four minutes ago,” Blake said.
“Oh Frederick, isn’t that your document holder?” Grace’s voice came from behind him.
Frederick attempted to take in the other aspects of the room. White papers—easy enough to make out even with the glasses—scattered across every surface. Books pulled from shelves. And then his gaze landed on his mahogany document holder.
He squinted. Was the brass lock hanging loose?
“It seems whoever broke in must have been interrupted in their flight and decided the fastest route lay through the window, which I fear they could not get unlocked this time.” Blake turned toward Brandon with a grin. “Likely due to Mr. Brandon’s extra precautions from the last incident in adding another lock higher on the pane.” Then Blake gestured back toward the gaping, jagged hole in the floor-to-ceiling windows beside Frederick’s desk. “So they made rather a large mess of things.”
“What do you mean?” Frederick edged closer, tightening his grip on Grace’s hand to keep her behind him, away from the more dangerous wreckage.
“Evidently, he threw your chair through the window and then followed it to the garden below. Not without leaving some strips of his clothes attached to the glass, as well as some blood remnants where the shards weren’t so kind.”
“You would have done it differently, then?” Grace’s voice came from behind him, curiosity evident.
“I detest messy, my lady. Especially when there’s a better way.”
“Then I’m sure your future wife will be vastly appreciative of that quality,” Grace shot back.
Frederick almost smiled despite the circumstances. His wife’s teasing, her wit, had only continued to sharpen the longer they were married. Likely influenced by his own sarcasm, but she’d always been clever. Quick. Experience made her more so. It was rather endearing.
Blake chuckled. “I’ve never thought of it in quite that light, my lady, but I hope she shall be.”
“Any evidence from the clothing strips on the glass?” Frederick motioned toward the window where the curtains fluttered in the night breeze, pale and ghostly in their sway. Through his glasses, Frederick could make out some of the shards littering the floor—mostly because the too-bright electric lights glinted off the glass, giving warning.
“Indeed. Blue fabric of subpar quality.” Blake frowned. “Certainly from one of the patients’ uniforms.”
“It looks as though only the document case was disrupted.” This from Evie. “And the noise would have created an excellent distraction for the rest of the house.”
Frederick couldn’t make out the nuances of his expression, but Blake’s entire body straightened. Could this theft be connected to their work? Or … something to possibly sabotage their work?
“It seems we may have a missing patient,” Frederick said, making a swift decision. He turned back to the staff. “John, collect a few of the other male servants and search through the wards for anyone who may be missing.”
“And any of the staff,” Grace added. “Perhaps Mrs. Powell and Mary would kindly check for any missing staff, and please alert Nurse Wilson of the situation.”
Mrs. Powell dipped her head, slipping from the room with Mary in tow.
Leaving only Brandon, Evie, Blake, and Grace with him.
Oh, his wife had read his mind perfectly.
“Blake, I believe you and Miss Mo—” Frederick caught himself. “Miss Gale may need to ensure your … plans haven’t been disrupted?”
