Page 36 of Beloved Beast

“No. I couldn’t care less if I ever come across another stretch of beach ever again.” His voice was firm, but the tone was haunted. She met his gaze, her brows furrowed in worry. “I am all right, Gillian. I’ve not had this nightmare for many months. It will pass.”

“Us here, together in Charlwood. Did we make the right decision?” she whispered.

“In spite of the remorse we both carry? The slow ache of sorrow that can pop up and sting with no notice? Yes, we made the right decision. For when all is said and done, we are still alive. We do disservice to their memories not to continue on with life.” Luke kissed the top of her head. “And this is life. Sharing. Intimacy. Sex. Finding warmth and comfort in the arms of another, no matter how brief. This I will not feel guilty about and neither should you.”

Hot tears stung and clustered on her eyelashes. For at that moment, something shifted, as if her heart swelled. Regardless of her growing feelings, she would remain cautious. The questions still swirled about. Her gaze slid to his luggage standing by the wardrobe. But before she asked him anything, a little investigation was in order. It shouldn’t be too difficult to check his case when he was downstairs.

One thing Gillian knew for sure: they would have this out at some point. She would ask him the questions. Until then, she would revel in the emotions. There was no denying it; she was falling for him.

Chapter 16

Five days had passed since Fred delivered Joan Simm to his parents and since then he could not stop thinking about her. He even lost precious sleep over the woman. That had never happened before. Three devastating kisses and apparently she wormed her way into his heart. Fred thought himself immune to deeper emotions and romantic entanglements. Working in the spy business, such human frailties became a hindrance. Not anymore. All he longed to do was to gather her in his arms and kiss her hard. Take complete possession.

Growing up, he found himself surrounded by love, not only the example of his parents, but Luke and Glenna. He’d decided at an early age he would not settle for anything less than a passionate love. Explained why he was still single at thirty-four. Joan stirred up feelings in him he doubted existed within him.

Sitting in his office, his thoughts turned to Luke and Gillian Browning. It had also been five days since they traveled to the safe house in Charlwood. In truth, he could have chosen another location, but setting aside the advantage of its closeness to Brighton and the underground tunnels, he believed Luke needed closure on parts of his past. His uncle had been devastated when Aunt Glenna died in such a horrific fashion. But would watching her wither and age be any less devastating? He did not envy Luke’s existence.

During the past ten years, Luke had been a protector to more than one spy, a great many of them women. He never perceived any attraction between Luke and the lady agents. But he did between Gillian and Luke. Even arguing in his office when they first met, Fred observed the electricity sparking between them. It was on the spur of the moment he decided on Charlwood and the old family home. Not one for interfering, but he cared for his uncle. They were good friends besides being related by marriage. If he could bring a brief romantic interlude to Luke’s life, why not? Not professional of him, but he acted on the impulse nonetheless.

Sipping his tea, he picked up the letter his uncle had left under the mat at his flat along with the key to the black Anglia. My God, he still could not believe Luke and Gillian were caught up in the Bethnal Green tragedy. The Home Secretary decided to keep the horrible incident from the papers and the public. MI-6 agents were now in the East End making sure the survivors kept quiet by reminding them of the Official Secrets Act.

Fred ran the license plate number of the green Austin Eight that had been following them when they left the office. It turned up nothing but a fake name and address. Luke’s speculation they were randomly chosen for surveillance proved to be correct. The Nazi double agents informed MI-6 more than once they were instructed to do this by the German government.

The intercom buzzed. “Mr. Parker. Mr. Billings here to see you.”

“Send him in.”

One of his agents, Charles Billings, charged with keeping his secretary under surveillance, strolled into the room. Fred stood and they both entered the small, sound-proof conference room behind his office.

Sitting at the table, Fred asked, “Well? You have a report?”

Billings sat opposite, pulled out a notebook, and flipped back through several pages. “As you instructed, I observed Helen Travers for a period of thirty days.”

It was standard procedure to do periodic checks on support personnel to ensure they did not endanger or compromise SIS in any way. This month was his secretary’s turn.

“Mrs. Travers, widow, aged fifty-four, has been observed meeting a man two or three times a week at various hotels for the past month,” Billings read from his notes.

Fred arched an eyebrow. “Travers is having an affair?”

Billings nodded. “With a younger man. I followed him to a fashionable flat in Mayfair. The place is being rented to a Mr. Braddock Caldwell. Quite the playboy. I followed him over a period of four nights earlier this week and he wined, dined, and seduced different women each of those nights. And not your run-of-the-mill women. One is a wife of a baron, another the daughter of an admiral in the Royal Navy. Still another the executive secretary of the U.S. ambassador. And now Mrs. Travers.”

Dear God. The choice of women was more than a coincidence. “He needs checking into.”

“I agree. As soon as I came in today, I did a quick check on the name. Not much to go on. A name, driver’s license, claims he attended Oxford. That bit of information came from the landlord. I cannot find any occupation.”

Fred didn’t like the sounds of this. It was his greatest fear the Nazis had a “super spy” operating in Britain. A lone wolf of a man efficient enough he eluded SIS altogether.

“I want you to follow this Caldwell for the next several nights.”

Billings sighed wearily. “Well, here’s the rub. I stopped by his residence this morning before I came here. The flat is empty. I contacted the owner and he claims Mr. Caldwell departed suddenly and left no forwarding address.”

Fred pounded the table with his fist in frustration. “I don’t suppose you got a picture of him?”

Billings shook his head. “At first, I merely thought him a gigolo. Wanted to check with you before moving forward. I only found out the identities of the ladies yesterday. That’s when I decided to swing by his flat.”

Fred couldn’t believe this. “Well, there’s nothing else for it. We’ll have to interrogate Mrs. Travers. Find the sketch artist and tell him to come here immediately. And I want you to sit in on the interview. Any description you can give the artist would be a help. Hurry, there’s no time to lose.”

Billings stood and tucked his notebook in his side pocket. “Right away.”