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Oliver groaned. “Does that mean we have to stay in this dilapidated building for another night?”
“Possibly two.”
“I am so displeased by your remark that I might not share this bread with you,” Oliver replied, shaking his head.
“You are free to leave,” Baldwin encouraged. “I told Morton that you were off chasing women.”
Oliver broke the bread and extended half towards him. “I can’t possibly leave you here alone.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you will get yourself killed,” Oliver teased. “After all, I left you alone for only a few hours and Miss Dowding broke your nose.”
“She did not break my nose.”
Oliver chuckled. “It looks pretty swollen from where I stand, and Mother would be furious if it is still swollen for the ball in your honor.”
“That is in three days’ time,” Baldwin said. “I have no doubt that the swelling will go down before then.”
“Let’s hope for your sake it does,” Oliver joked as he sat down on his mattress. “Did Morton give you any hints on the type of assignment that he was recruiting you for?”
“I do know that the crime is punishable by death.”
“That could be a host of things,” Oliver remarked. “Any treasonous activity is punishable by death.”
Baldwin leaned his back against the wall. “He indicated that someone was going to help with the plan.”
Oliver swallowed the bite in his mouth. “Do you think Morton was referring to the French spy?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but it is a promising lead.”
“That it is,” Oliver agreed. “When do you intend to report your findings to Corbyn?”
“I will go later tonight.”
“It’s a good thing Corbyn doesn’t sleep.”
Baldwin rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m getting tired of sleeping on these mattresses.”
“Do you suppose there are more fleas or straw in them?” Oliver asked.
“Fleas, definitely.”
Glancing over at him, Oliver asked, “Do you miss working in France?”
“I resided on Jersey Island, but I traveled back and forth constantly,” Baldwin shared. “I miss the crashing of waves outside my window and the smell of fish on my hands and clothes.”
“The smell of fish?”
“I worked beside a fisherman as my cover,” Baldwin explained. “That is how I traveled to France without being detected.”
Oliver looked at him in amazement. “You failed to mention that in any of your letters.”
“Coded letters do not allow room for trivial information.”
“True, but I must admit that I am having a hard time imagining my brother as a fisherman,” Oliver joked.
Baldwin smiled. “I never said I was good at it.”
