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stillness beside her. “James?”
    After a long moment, he looked at her. Even in the semi-darkness, she could see the turmoil in his eyes. “What did you say to this person?” His voice was tense. Toneless. Held low and small by the force of his will.
    Mary swallowed. “I said I would have to talk to you, as my business partner. I will communicate our decision tomorrow.”
    He drew a deep breath. “Thank you for waiting.”
    “How could I not?” Again, silence from James. She stumbled on, hating how defensive she sounded. “We can’t allow Mrs Thorold to re-establish herself in England. I need to do my part.” Yet more silence. “James, say something. You may be angry, or have suspicions about the accuracy of this information, but even so: speak to me.”
    In one swift movement, he turned and pulled her into a bruising hug, the pedestrians of Russell Square be damned. His voice was muffled in her hair as he said, in a strangled voice, “I’m not angry.”
    “No?”
    “No. I’m terrified.”
    Mary almost gasped. James, fearful? She pulled back slightly, fighting against his clasp. “I’ve been thinking what to do. Your brother is back from holiday soon, isn’t he? He could take over some of your site duties until we know more—”
    “Good God, Mary, I’m not frightened for myself. But the thought of you out there, alone, being spotted by Mrs Thorold, or deciding to pursue her: that’s what absolutely petrifies me.” He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. She’ll have more important things to do than come and find me.”
    “I disagree! She tried to kill you. If she’s brought to trial, you’ll be the most important witness against her. She has every reason to try again to murder you. And this time, she won’t leave the burning building until she knows she’s succeeded.”
    James’s jaw shifted subtly into what Mary thought of as his “stubborn angle”. “For all she knows, I’m dead. She’s too arrogant to think she might have failed the first time.”
    “And too careless to check? All she’d have to do is consult a builder’s directory, or write a letter to your offices, or just stroll through Great George Street and ask any small boy who’s idling about!”
    “So what are you proposing? That I go into hiding and leave you to track her down on your own?”
    “Of course not. But you must acknowledge the danger you’re in. And we need to create a plan to protect you.”
    “Don’t you mean ‘protect us’? Mary, there are two things keeping you safe. The first is that she doesn’t seem to know you were involved in the original case; for all she knows, you were simply Angelica’s paid companion.”
    “Which is precisely why I’m a good choice to watch for her.”
    James shook his head. “No: the second reason is that she has no idea of our connection. As soon as she realizes that we are close, you’re in as much danger as I am.”
    Mary opened her lips to refute this, then froze. He was right. Damn it all, he was right. She released her tight clutch on his shoulders. James, too, straightened and let her go. They both breathed as though they’d been running.
    “What do you propose?” she said, eventually.
    “The only thing possible: we must sever all contact until Mrs Thorold is arrested.”
    “She might never be. We might never even confirm that she’s in the country.”
    “For a period of time, then.”
    Mary shook her head. “I don’t like it, James. If our courtship escapes her notice – which is unlikely, given how formal and public we’ve been – there’s the small matter of Quinn and Easton.”
    “That’s why we must begin immediately. She’s not yet in England, I assume; your contact at the Met won’t have been slow to alert you. As detectives, we’ve never advertised in the papers, thank God. I’ll take down the nameplate in Great George Street. Apart from that, it’s all word of mouth and rumour, which will blow away in the breeze.”
    “What if she