From the nodding of their heads and their looks of concern, Thea could tell that Ambrose and Emma believed the marchioness’ story. Thea sensed that even Gabriel was thawing toward his former comrade… although one would be hard pressed to tell from his demeanor. He’d once again donned his mask of stoicism. Thea was beginning to see how a career in espionage might have shaped that particular tendency for Lady Blackwood, too, had retreated behind a façade of jaded sophistication. To Thea, the two ex-agents treated each other warily, like alley cats ready to attack if either encroached on the other’s territory. Emma rang for refreshments, and Thea made her selection from the silver tiers of sandwiches and pastries before sitting next to Gabriel on the couch. He was summarizing the details of the chase through Covent Garden, concluding with the mysterious shooter who’d saved his life. “You didn’t get a look at him?” Ambrose asked. Gabriel shook his head. “I saw what might have been the tail of a black greatcoat.
