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“I will see what I can do.”
Corbyn took a bite of his eggs and chewed them thoughtfully. “Have you discovered anything more on the case?”
“I have not, but there is a meeting tonight at the Blue Boar.”
“Excellent,” Corbyn replied. “Wouldn’t it be grand if you were able to meet Marie tonight and stop this growing rebellion before it escalates?”
“Yes, it would.”
Corbyn pointed his fork at him and said, “I couldn’t help but notice you and Miss Dowding were getting rather close during the waltz.”
“Not you, too!” Baldwin huffed. “Miss Dowding and I are just friends.”
“It didn’t appear that way.”
“Then you need spectacles,” Baldwin quipped.
Corbyn leaned back in his chair. “There is nothing wrong with falling in love, especially since you are retiring as an agent after this case.”
“Falling in love?” he repeated back in disbelief. “I am doing no such thing with Miss Dowding.”
“Are you sure?”
Baldwin bobbed his head decisively. “I think I would know if I was falling in love with her,” he asserted.
“Then I stand corrected,” Corbyn said in a tone that implied he didn’t believe him. “That is probably for the best, because my agents haven’t been able to find any clue of Miss Hardy’s whereabouts.”
“None?”
Corbyn shook his head. “They have scoured London, but it would appear that Miss Hardy simply disappeared into the night.”
“That isn’t likely.”
“I know, but our leads have been exhausted,” Corbyn replied. “And I am unable to dedicate any more resources from the agency on her case.”
Running a hand through his brown hair, Baldwin said, “That news is going to devastate Miss Dowding.”
“It is a good thing you aren’t holding a fondness for her,” Corbyn remarked, amused.
Baldwin shoved his chair back and rose. “If you will excuse me, I have work that I need to see to. I trust that you can see your way out.”
