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“Other than that, I’m still in the dark.”
Bridget’s brows shot up. How could the man not know of The Farm? Why would he be here if he didn’t understand its importance and suspect its purpose? She’d been suspicious of him at the train station. Perhaps her suspicions had been correct. This man was no agent.
“I think that’s a fair question, Mr. Kelly. This is a training camp for saboteurs.”
“Saboteurs? As in sabotage?”
“Exactly. We’ll be training you in the arts of sabotage. Your targets? Domestic organizations with plans to hurt the Queen or disrupt our government, as well as foreign governments who might seek to do our nation ill.” Baron’s gaze touched on each of the new agents with gravity. “If you pass our tests and meet my expectations, you will become one of us.”
“And who is this us?”
“The Royal Saboteurs, Mr. Kelly. The Royal Saboteurs.” He turned to Bridget. “Miss Murray, I think we are through with the questions for now.”
She nodded, but her heart was beating a little quicker than normal. The Royal Saboteurs. She couldn’t have been prouder to work for Baron or this secret organization protecting all the people of England. Raising her clipboard again, she lifted her pencil and placed the sharpened tip beside the first name. “As I call your name, please step forward so Baron will know you. Miss Galloway.”
“That’s me!” The pretty brunette smiled showing dimples. “I’m right here.”
Bridget placed a check beside the name Lucy Galloway. “Miss Galloway, you will reside in the farmhouse behind me. You may bring your things inside, and when I am finished I will show you to your room. Then report to Mr. Powder”—she looked over her shoulder and one of the instructors nodded—“for explosives training.”
“Explosives! Oh, good!” She started for the house, passing by Baron as she did so. It was not the most efficient path, and Bridget watched her. She leaned close to Baron and whispered, “Hullo, Uncle Winn.” Then winked.
Bridget blinked in surprise, but Baron only smiled and nodded. Lucy carried on, dragging her valise with her to the farmhouse.
Clearing her throat, Bridget looked at her clipboard again. “Miss Vaughn.”
The other woman stepped forward, without her book for once. She was taller and appeared more serious than Miss Galloway, her red hair in barely contained curls under her hat. Bridget put a check beside Margaret Vaughn. “You will also reside in the farmhouse. Bring your things inside, and when I am finished I will show you to your room. Then report to Mr. Qwill”—another instructor inclined his head—“for training in codes.”
“Thank you.” Miss Vaughn walked to the farmhouse without winks or whispers.
“Powder and Qwill?” Mr. Kelly drawled. “Explosives and codes. Sure and those are code names.”
“Your intellect is stunning, Mr. Kelly,” Bridget drawled right back, forgetting she had meant to ignore him. Blasted man! “Now if you will cease interrupting, I might be able to have us all out of the cold before nightfall.”
His brows rose, and he gave her a small bow. In her peripheral vision, she noted Baron’s eyes had widened. It wasn’t like her to speak so sharply. She took a breath and glanced down at her clipboard. Callahan Kelly was next. Her pencil hovered by his name and then skated right over it. “Mr. Slorach is next.” The man with the red hair nodded at her. He was the tallest of the men and had stubble on his cheeks. “You will be in D Building, sir. It’s right there.” She pointed, then consulted her clipboard. “Bed one. Please stow your belongings and report to Mr. Powder.”
Without a word, he lifted his bag and started for the building. She made a check beside Duncan Slorach.
“Lass, do you think you can hurry this up a bit?” Kelly said. “I’m freezing me...fingers off.”
Bridget ignored him. “Mr. Galloway.”
The handsome man trying to hide his smile gave her a quick bow. “Miss Murray.”
“You are also in D Building. Bed two. Stow your belongings and report to Mr. Glass for surveillance training.”
“Thank you.” Before he could walk away Kelly, who was standing near him, elbowed him.
“Glass. Like eye glass.”
Bridget gritted her teeth and put a check beside Willoughby Galloway. “Mr. Arundel.”
“That would be me, Baron.” The man with the blue eyes and the most aristocratic features of all of them lifted a hand. Bridget put a check beside Hew Arundel.
“Mr. Arundel, you are also in D Building, bed three. Stow your belongings and report to Mr. Fog for evasive maneuvers.”
“Thank you.” He started away.
Mr. Kelly folded his arms across his chest. “Do you have me on that list, lass, or am I to stand out here all day?”
