Page 51 of The Oxford Guide to Scandal and Lies

“Check the furniture. Back, sides, underneath…”

Gin began prodding and poking the leather armchair, and Sidney returned to the bookshelves. A quick sweep of the next two shelves identified a few promising spots, but the books’ pages revealed nothing. Sidney stepped back, taking in the shelves as a unit, but his focus kept drifting to Ginevra. She was absorbed in her search with the eagerness of a child for an Easter-egg hunt, and her thoroughness was impressive. Unable to move the chair, she had wedged herself behind it, and Sidney half feared her enthusiasm would dismantle the piece of furniture.

Sidney stopped, his eye snagging on the shelf beyond her. From this vantage, it was easy to see there was one book within arm’s reach of the desk that stood upside down on the shelf. He sidled around Ginevra and pulled it out.

It was a thick book, but real, with no hidden compartments. As he flipped through the pages, it fell open on its own to a sheaf of paper nestled between the pages. Sidney set down the book and opened the paper.

“Bloody hell,” he said. “It’s not just resignation. I think he’s moving to the Soviet Union. This is a visa application.”

“What?” Gin clambered from behind the chair. “That seems rather damning, doesn’t it? Finish spying and flee the country?”

“It does.” Sidney riffled through the pages one more time and refolded the bundle. “We definitely should tell the Rook—”

A woman’s voice hummed outside the door, and Sidney froze. Exiting through the window wasn’t an option, for the ancient panes of glass were sealed shut. If someone was coming in, they were doomed.

Ginevra, however, dropped to the floor and tugged Sidney down with her. She crawled underneath the desk, waving for him to follow. They’d be hidden well enough if the incoming person didn’t sit at the desk, but it was still a risk. Perhaps they were better off being discovered and make excuses? Only the punishment for couples caught in compromising circumstances always seemed worse for women than men, and Sidney’s stomach clenched.

The doorknob rattled, and he dove.

It was much tighter under the desk than he expected, especially with Gin’s dress constituting a third person. She sat curled, knees to her chest, but the thick layers of her skirt bunched between them. Sidney tried shifting away, but his head gently bumped the desk’s underside and Gin shook her head, wide-eyed.

The door opened and closed softly, and Sidney held his breath.

Light footsteps crossed the rug. There was the familiar sound of books sliding on and off the shelf, and a woman’s voice muttering. Sidney hung his head, trying to listen, and got a face full of tulle for his trouble.

An itch crawled under his nostrils. It wasn’t a full sneeze, but a miserable tickle. Desperate, Sidney swiped the side of his nose across his shoulder, bumping Ginevra, but he couldn’t reach the spot driving him mad. His hands were pinioned at his sides, and he didn’t dare shift too much lest he bump the desk again.

Gin stared at him, bemused. “What’s wrong?” she mouthed.

A real sneeze started building, and Sidney shuddered. He’d been humiliated many times in his life, most recently when Gin had nearly kissed him outside St. Mildred’s. But there was perhaps no lower he could sink than wriggling his nose like a rabbit six inches from her face in a pantomime of a sneeze.

Understanding flared in her eyes. Sidney winced, bracing to hold off the sneeze a little longer, but then something soft brushed his cheek. Ginevra nuzzled his face, her nose gently bumping his, and Sidney sat in such profound shock that he momentarily forgot they were trapped under a desk, inside a don’s office, on a top secret mission for the British government. He wanted to thread his fingers through her hair and draw her into a kiss that would most certainly lead to their mutual expulsion and a duel with Craddock if caught.

Ginevra drew back, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Sorry,” she mouthed again. “Did it work?”

It had worked all too well, but Sidney was tempted to shake his head and see if she’d try again. Only the soft thud of a book shutting recalled him to his senses. The person had shifted closer to their hiding spot and now perused the shelves behind the desk. Sidney ducked his head, wary of the tulle this time, and peered through the arm of the chair concealing them.

All thoughts of kissing vanished.

It was Dr. Watkins. She had pulled over a step stool and was searching through the books on top of the bookcase, murmuring at each one she inspected. After clicking her tongue in disappointment, she shifted the stool to the next shelf and repeated the process. Sidney realized with a rush of panic that he had also left the book containing the visa application on the floor while squeezing under the desk. If Watkins decided to pick it up, she would definitely spot them.

But why hadn’t she turned on the office’s light?

At last, the don made a soft exclamation of success and slipped a book into the bag hanging from her shoulder. She stepped off the stool and picked it up, turning away from the shelves, but stopped.

There were more voices in the hall.

Watkins darted out of sight. There was a soft bump as the step stool moved across the room, and the door opened.

“Oh, Dr. Watkins,” a man’s nasal voice said in surprise. “Is everything all right, ma’am?”

“Yes,” Watkins said hastily, “I was looking for something Dr. Neville borrowed, but no matter.”

“I’m searching too,” the man said. “I can’t find my mop … ah!” Heavy footsteps crossed the room. “I suppose I left it in here earlier. Sorry to bother you, ma’am.”

“Not at all, I’m finished…”

The door shut behind them. Voices faded down the hall, but Sidney waited until he was dead certain the coast was clear before crawling from under the table and retrieving the dropped book.