Page 91 of The Librarian Spy

“If I’d known you’d look at me like that, I’d have come back even earlier.” His jaw was smoothly shaved, revealing his prominent chin that had once been unappealing for a reason she couldn’t recall.

The length of his hair was still longer than usual, his dark fedora pulled low in a bid to make his shaggy locks less apparent. He was a man of confidence, and the slight show of self-consciousness played an endearing chord in Ava’s chest.

“If you could have come back a month earlier, you shouldn’t have dallied.” She readjusted the messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

“If only it could have been so easy.” There was something behind his eyes, a glint of pain.

“What happened?” Ava asked.

“Will you take a walk with me?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

He tilted his head in acknowledgment that was somewhere between cocky and shy. As they strolled together, he leaned slightly on his cane, leading her down Rua Agusta where the shops were busiest and the arch spanned over one end in a gateway that opened to the sparkling river beyond.

“I admit it,” she said in a conciliatory tone. “The cane does make you look quite distinguished.”

“I won’t say I told you so.” He looked away with exaggerated innocence.

“Will you recover soon though?” she asked, her worry pressing through her teasing words.

“In time.” He tilted his head. “I hope.”

They passed the awnings of several cafés, stretching toward the street center where tables and chairs were already set over the sprawling stone mosaics in preparation for the crowds that would soon descend. The sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries hung in the air.

“Will you tell me what happened to your leg?” She asked hesitantly, aware that she was crossing a line of trust. Not between their friendship, but between the alliance of their country. Whatever happened was for British intelligence to know, not for her to probe about.

“I was shot.” He glanced about. “In Toulouse. We were sneaking about in the dark, our sights set on scaling the Pyrenees Mountains when a Nazi officer saw us and fired. Lucky for us he was a terrible shot.” He gave a dry laugh, the way people did when telling a story that had lost its humor. “One bullet ricocheted off a building and caught me in the calf.”

“At least it was only your calf,” Ava exclaimed.

“Yes and no,” James hedged. “An injured leg prior to climbing the Pyrenees might have meant my death. Thankfully the bullet passed through a rather small area, and I was able to clean and bind the wound.”

Ava had always loved Rua Agusta with the quaint shops selling teas and coffees as well as pastries and colorfully painted plates and kitchenware. But now, she found it impossible to glance toward the artful displays, her focus instead intent on James. “You should not have endured such a climb. You could have been killed.”

“If I had not, they would have been.” The earnestness in his face struck Ava.

“You lost so much weight,” Ava said, unable to suppress her concern.

“There is little food to be had in France,” he replied. “What meager supplies we had, I wanted to ensure Sarah and Noah could keep up their strength. They truly did so well and were so determined and brave.” He paused a moment. “It is always interesting to return to Lisbon, to witness the abundance of food and clothing. Even the lights.” His lips lifted in a smile. “London is always dark these days to prevent bombings. It’s almost blinding at night here by comparison.”

“I want to know everything.” She folded her arms over her chest as they walked into the shade of a building, the wind pushing at her clothes and hair as they strode toward the water. “Why did they send you?”

“Not all favors are given for free.”

Ava considered him. She would never have been allowed to take on so dangerous a task. But then, she was a woman, often underestimated in a field dominated by men. If she had been a man, would that still happen? Would accompanying Sarah and Noah have even been an option?

“It was not supposed to take as long as it did.” James led her under the massive arch, built where the old royal palace formerly resided, to commemorate the reconstruction of Lisbon after that fateful earthquake.

Questions of James’s involvement were swept away immediately by more important details. “What happened to delay you?” she asked.

The square was large and open, overlooking the Tagus River. What few people did linger nearby were well out of earshot. James glanced about still before continuing. “The Nazi aggression in France has grown. Despite what the Germans say in the newspapers, they see the defeat coming. Apparently, the loss of Corsica sent a shock wave through France, encouraging the Resistance in their efforts and leaving the Germans redoubling their determination to hold on to their occupation.”

His eyes searched the horizon, over the choppy surface of the water before them. “They have been hunting the Resistance down without mercy, especially the Maquis who were our main contacts. There were several times we had to find our own way after bands of Maquis were eliminated. We shielded Noah from as much as we could. I believe he’s young enough to recover, but I couldn’t always protect Sarah from the things she saw...”

“James.” Ava put her hand to his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

He turned his haunted stare toward her. “I would do it again to ensure their safety. If left there, they would surely have been found out and sent to one of those camps.”