Page 47 of Beloved Beast

Rainer smiled. “That’s them. I cannot quite recall where they lived before Riddlesdown though…”

“Charlwood. Over Surrey way, east of here,” Ernie supplied as he drank more of his pint then belched.

Rainer winched inwardly. Ill-bred English pig. “Of course. How could I forget? I remember an odd-looking fellow who was part of the family. Strange color of skin, scars…”

Ernie gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Aye, I’ve seen him visiting the past several years. Ugly bloke. My cousin did odd jobs for the family, seen him about. Tall, imposing, and horrible to look at. Scars all down his face. Gray skin. Lives in London my cousin says. South of the city in the Redbridge area.”

“Ernie,” Nigel admonished, pointing to the large British war propaganda poster hanging on the wall. “Keep it under your hat. Careless talk costs lives.”

“Pah, give over, this fit and posh bloke is one of us. Though, you could be a spy, eh Will?” Ernie nudged him, laughing loudly.

Rainer laughed politely. He could easily lure these two idiots out into the alley and be done with them once and for all. “Yes. A spy. Another round, gentlemen?” Rainer snapped his fingers to gain the attention of one of the barmen.

Excellent. He found out what he wanted to know. Tomorrow morning, he would head to south London and discover where this Luke Newman lived. If he was not at home, he would try Charlwood next. He had no idea if this female spy was with Newman or not, but he wanted to eliminate him from the list of possibilities. One useful thing he did learn from Helen Travers: Fred Parker often coordinated the relocation of agents and former agents, and he would certainly use his trusted uncle to see the job through.

A slight smile curved about Rainer’s mouth as pints were delivered to the men. He was on the right track, he felt it deep inside, and his gut was never wrong. By tomorrow night, if he found Newman with the female spy, he’d kill them both.

* * * *

Sitting alone in the parlor, Luke tried to concentrate on Reed’s notes but found he read the same page over and over for the past hour. He’d told Gillian he needed to be alone to think, and she marched from the kitchen and went upstairs.

Ruminating over the past twenty-four hours, he still could not believe he told Gillian of his past. He’d never spoke in such a frank way of his decadent history, his reanimation, or his life with Glenna. To anyone. Yet, it is as if he cut open his heart and allowed every emotion to pour out of him. It was cathartic in many ways, for he’d kept a lot of it bottled up for many years.

What surprised him the most was talking of his marriage to Glenna. Regardless of their happy ending, their life was not idyllic, nothing ever is. But regardless of the infrequent arguments and annoyances, they always managed to find a way to fall in love all over again. To Luke, it was the foundation of a solid relationship. At their core, beyond the physical, they were the best of friends, able to share and discuss anything. They trusted each other. Could he sit here and honestly say he had found it all with Gillian in ten days? He’d spoken from the depths of his soul, and yet she had not revealed any intimate details about her affair with Otto Kroger or anything about the man himself.

A life with Gillian? Yes, he’d been seriously considering it; otherwise he would not have told her his secrets. But the letter from Fred changed everything. First and foremost, her safety outweighed the whole lot, including his heart. Pushing her away was tearing him apart inside. They were to spend their last full day together in separate rooms, brooding?

To hell with this. He shoved the papers in the paper bag at his feet. He headed out into the hall and met Gillian coming down the stairs. They both froze. Uncertainty clouded her lovely face, and it matched his own churning emotions.

“Luke…”

“Gillian…”

They both spoke at the same time. Giving her a smile, he held out his right hand. “Come. I’ve written a reply to Fred. The messenger should be here in thirty minutes to retrieve it. We should discuss the plan.” He spoke in a soft voice, to reassure. God, he didn’t want to fight. Time was growing far too short.

Gillian descended the stairs and slipped her hand in his, following him to the kitchen. Like the gentleman he’d been raised to be, he pulled out the chair for her and she took a seat.

Luke sat next to her and held her hand, squeezing it gently. “I have replied to Fred we will go immediately to Brighton on his order. We will leave here at dusk tomorrow if feasible.”

“And what happens when this fisherman delivers me to Liverpool? Will I be alone?”

His thumb brushed across the top of her hand, the feel of her silky skin sending warmth through him. “We will find out more when Fred replies. But I can tell you how it has generally worked in the past. An agent will accompany you to the docks, where you will stay until a ticket is purchased for you on one of the Cunard-White Star ships. The agent will stay with you until you depart. Someone will meet you in Halifax. Get you settled. Usually a small flat is provided, and once your new identification is in place, they will find you a decent position.”

As she absorbed the information, a worried look appeared on her face. He continued, “SIS will allow you to recover from your journey and to adjust to your new surroundings before finding you a job. There may be an alteration to your appearance in addition to your new name. Nothing too severe: new hair color, style, prop glasses, whatever they deem necessary.”

Gillian remained silent as she glanced down at their joined hands. “And why can’t you escort me to Liverpool? Come with me to Canada, see me settled? Especially since you may not be working for MI-6 any longer?”

“As I explained, I have been compromised. Maybe this man Mrs. Travers had the affair with is nothing to worry about, but we cannot take the chance. Not even the slightest bit.”

Moisture swam in her eyes. “You are telling me this is over?”

“It must be,” he whispered sadly.

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “No. You agreed there was something special between us. I will not let it end here. Not like this. If you can’t come with me, then you can join me later. At the least, we wait until the war is over to meet up.”

“You know it could go on for two or three years yet. Maybe even longer.”

Gillian clasped his hand with both of hers. “Get this, Luke Newman, Madden, whomever. I don’t care how long it lasts. I will wait for you. The question is: Will you wait for me?”