Page 104 of Under Arthur’s Protection

Great work, Gwen. Really well done.

We got into the car.

A few minutes later, Arthur gestured to his phone in the center console. “Can you call Merlin? Put it on speaker.”

I picked up his phone. He started to rattle off his passcode, but I’d already punched it in. He glanced at me.

“You told it to me yesterday.”

“You have an amazing memory.”

Merlin answered. “Go ahead.”

“We’re in the Peugeot,” Arthur said. “Where are we going?”

“Roscoff to Plymouth won’t work,” Merlin said. “The earliest available sailing leaves tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t want to retrace our route anyway. I don’t want to be predictable.”

Keys tapped in Merlin’s background. “How about Caen to Portsmouth? They have an overnight crossing departing at twenty-three hundred.”

“Twenty-three hundred works.”

“I’ll book it. One cabin or two?”

“One’s safer.”

My stomach tightened. We’d be sharing another room.

“Agreed,” said Merlin. “I’ll send the confirmation through. Anything else?”

“Lance is flying into England tonight. We need a different airstrip than last time and somewhere safe for the crew.”

“I’m on it. Drive safe.” Merlin hung up.

Arthur’s shoulders had dropped during the call. Conversation bounced between them faster than it ever did between Arthur and Lance. Arthur might have been avoiding me despite sitting beside me, but with Merlin he was in perfect form. Trust loosened him.

It’s now or never, Gwen.

I set the phone on the console. “What do you call a bear without any teeth?”

He glanced at me before refocusing on the road.

“A gummy bear.”

Nothing. For two full seconds, nothing.

What a stupid idea, Lance.

But then his mouth twitched. He pressed his lips together, but the corner betrayed him. “That’s terrible.”

“I know.” I laughed, partly to encourage him and partly because I thought about the boy who’d told me the joke last month. We’d been waiting in line at a bodega near my apartment, and he’d been so proud of his silly joke.

“Where on earth did you⁠—”

“The son of a friend of mine.” I tucked one leg up on the seat and turned toward him. “He’s twelve and thinks dad jokes are the best thing in the world.”

He frowned. Why a frown?