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Chapter Twenty-Five

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Evelyn looked up into Miles’ face as they danced. The band was playing a ballad and, if he was holding her just a little too close, she certainly didn’t mind. She loved to dance with him, and these were the moments that helped get her through the mountains of Norway, and the invasion of France. The memory of Miles and his warmth and humor could carry her through impossible times, and she was thankful for every second they had together. It was at times like this, with his arms around her, that Evelyn knew she was falling hopelessly in love. It was an impossible situation, but it was one that she was increasingly unwilling to walk away from. Especially after days like today.

“I can’t imagine what got into Giles just now,” he said suddenly, jolting her out of her reverie. “Does he actually believe all of that hogwash?”

“Some people do, you know,” she said with a shrug. “You’ll never convince them otherwise, and I’ve stopped trying. Actually,” she tilted her head and her brows creased thoughtfully, “I don’t know that I’ve ever really tried.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the least. I can’t imagine you letting anyone’s opinion sway you.” He smiled down at her, tightening his arms ever so slightly. “Do you know, Evelyn, the more I get to know you, the more I think there’s so much about you that I’ll never learn?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted ruefully. “I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life, and yet I feel like there’s a whole other you that I’ll never know.”

Evelyn swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

“I can assure you, there is only one of me, Miles,” she said, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel. “And you seem to be getting quite familiar with me,” she added with a flash of a teasing grin.

For once, he didn’t return the banter, but looked down at her thoughtfully.

“Am I?” he asked softly.

She stared at him for a moment, her heart pounding. Oh, she’d always known that he saw more than he let on, her Spitfire pilot. She’d caught the speculative looks when she’d been foolish enough to slip and mention something she had no right to know or say. She’d always known there was a risk that he, out of everyone, would realize that she was living a lie, but she’d never imagined that it would actually happen. Yet now he seemed closer than ever.

The musky scent of his aftershave, which she loved, was wreaking havoc on her senses, and Evelyn put a little more distance between them as they danced, needing the space to think. His lips tightened a bit, but he didn’t try to pull her back. Instead, he studied her face, his eyes pensive.

“What are you afraid of?”

His voice was low and soft, and Evelyn fought the impulse to pull him close and tell him everything. It was impossible. He could never know the truth. The Official Secrets Act forbade it, as did her own innate sense of self-preservation. Yet she knew instinctively that if she tried to lie or talk her way out of this, he would be even more persistent. He was like a hunting dog that had caught a scent. He wasn’t about to give up.

“Losing you,” she whispered, surprising herself. It was true, of course, but she’d never had any intention of telling him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you are. You do. Every day you go up in your Spitfire, and you may not return.” Evelyn bit her lip, then exhaled. “I’m afraid of this war, and what it’s doing to all of us. It seems like the world is spinning out of control. Horrible things are happening to innocent people everywhere, and I feel so helpless. With every passing day, I’m changing, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be the woman I used to be. Nothing is the same, and I suppose I’m afraid that if I lose you, nothing will ever be the same again.”

Miles released her hand and brushed his thumb along her jaw. If they weren’t in the middle of the dance floor, she had no doubt that he would have kissed her. But they were on the dance floor, and suddenly Evelyn was very sorry for that.

“We’re all changing, but we’re changing together,” he said softly. “I know that I won’t be the same man I was before this all began, but I don’t care about that. I’m facing each day as it comes, and waiting until I can face you each night. I can’t say that I’ll come back after every sortie. No one can. But I can tell you that as long as I have breath in my body, I’ll fight to see you again.”

Evelyn felt all the tension flow out of her and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his even if she wanted to. Everything Miles felt for her was there for her to see and, all at once, she knew that he was just as hopelessly in love with her as she was with him. He was right. He couldn’t promise that he would always return, and she’d known that since the moment she met him. This was all they had: their stolen moments together. It was up to them to make them count and to enjoy them to the fullest so they could carry the memory with them; he to battle the Luftwaffe, and she to lie, and kill, for her country.

The thought made her shiver involuntarily and Miles frowned, feeling it.

“What is it?” he asked. “What are you thinking?”

“I was just thinking that tomorrow you go back to your squadron, and I’ll have to return to my station soon, and we don’t know where either of us will be this time next year.”

He pulled her close again and tightened his arm around her.

“We will be dancing here, just like this.” She looked up at him skeptically and he smiled. “Even if it’s only in our minds,” he relented.

Evelyn let out a short laugh and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. After a moment, she rested her head on his shoulder, moving with him in time to the music. He’d accepted her reply and had dropped the subject for now, but Evelyn knew it would arise again. Miles was far too astute to believe for much longer that she spent her days traveling around Great Britain training WAAFs. He would continue to hunt for answers, answers she was unable to give. But for right now, in this moment, they had each other.

And that would have to be enough to see them through what lay ahead.

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Evelyn crossed the road at the corner and turned to walk briskly along the pavement. When Fran had brought her breakfast this morning, there had been a small, sealed envelope on the tray, hand delivered early in the morning. The message was from Marrow, asking her to meet him at a little tea shop near Covent Garden. A surge of something akin to excitement had gone through her when she read it. Her cover must be ready. It was the only reason Marrow would want to meet, and that meant that it was finally time to put her money where her mouth was. It was time to embark on a charade that would, at its best, help them discover the names of some of the members of the Round Club. At its worst, the operation would end in her being uncovered and killed by the traitors, or Henry.

The sense of anticipation and excitement had stayed with Evelyn as she dressed and went about her morning routine. She was beginning to recognize the feeling. It was the same nervous excitement she had each time she left England and went onto the continent. Once the operation was truly underway, the feeling would disappear. But until then, her heart beat a little faster, and her eyes were a little brighter with the expectation of adventure.

Turning down a street that would cut over to the market square, Evelyn exhaled and wondered if this insane plan would work at all. There was no reason that it shouldn’t, but as she well knew, these things could quickly take on a life of their own and lead her down a path she never expected. At least she didn’t have to worry about outrunning the German army this time.

At least, not yet.

She tightened her lips as she navigated through the sparse crowds in the square. Hitler would attempt an invasion. They all knew that. He would send his mighty Luftwaffe to take control of the skies and the air fields, and then the invasion would begin. It was up to men like Robbie, Miles, and Chris to prevent the German air force from gaining any kind of traction over England. If they could hold them off, England had a chance. If not...well, then instead of fleeing from the German army, Evelyn would be digging in to fight. There was nowhere left to run if England fell.

She just hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t come to that.

Evelyn smiled as two children dashed in front of her, escaping their mother’s watchful gaze momentarily to chase a couple of pigeons. They were carefree and laughing as the birds took flight in a panic, but the small gas masks hanging around their necks spoke of the ever-present war that loomed over them all.

“Sara! James! Get back here, you two!” a woman yelled from the entrance to the market proper. “And don’t think I didn’t see you run right in front of that nice lady. Apologize this instant!”

The children skidded to a stop, then turned to go back towards the woman. As they passed Evelyn, they stole a look up at her.

“Sorry, miss,” the little boy said gruffly.

“I’m sorry too,” the girl murmured.

“It’s quite all right,” she replied with a smile, nodding to the anxious mother a few feet away.

She was just continuing across the square when she saw Anthony Gilhurst walk into the market from the opposite direction. Evelyn was just about to raise her hand to call and get his attention when he raised his walking stick in greeting to someone else. She shifted her gaze and watched as Sir Ronald Clark stepped out from behind a column further away. Sucking in her breath, Evelyn moved quickly to conceal herself behind the closest column to her, all thoughts of hailing Maryanne’s brother forgotten.

From behind the stone pillar, Evelyn watched as Sir Clark strode forward to meet Anthony, his hand outstretched. The two men greeted each other warmly before turning to walk together towards the street on the other side of the square. Anthony looked around briefly before falling into step beside Sir Clark, and Evelyn frowned, her lips tightening. Sir Clark was completely at ease, striding out of the square, but that quick look around told her that Anthony, at least, was uncomfortable. Now, why would that be?

Evelyn glanced at her watch, then emerged from behind the column, following the two men. Why was Anthony meeting Sir Clark in the middle of the day in Covent Garden? As far as she knew, the two men moved in different circles entirely and had only a passing acquaintance. She knew she was probably reading into the meeting far too much, but Evelyn couldn’t help herself. It was clear to both her and Maryanne that something had been weighing on Anthony’s mind lately, and of course Evelyn knew that Sir Clark was a traitor through and through. Was Anthony following the same path? The thought would have seemed impossible to her a few weeks ago, but now she wasn’t sure of anything.

The two men walked briskly through the street until they reached a small, respectable restaurant not far from the shopping district. Evelyn stopped and pretended to look at the wares displayed in a store front, watching from under her lashes as the men disappeared inside the restaurant. They were having lunch together, then.

Evelyn raised her eyes to the name of the restaurant above the door, then turned to retrace her steps thoughtfully. She was now late for her own engagement, but she would do it all over again without a thought. Why was Tony having lunch with Sir Clark in such a small and out-of-the-way place when the two men, on the surface of it, had absolutely nothing in common? And why did it bother her so much? There was no doubt a perfectly logical explanation, but the heavy feeling of disquiet emanating from her gut wouldn’t allow her to consider it. Something was very wrong, and she was very much afraid that her dear friend may be getting involved in something that could land him in prison...or worse.