Chapter 6

"Had the knife come at you from a straighter angle, you would have come out of this much worse for wear," Sir Boniface said, examining the thin cut on his ward's side where the assassin's knife failed in its task.

What saved Rebecca's life had been the boning of her corset. The knife had struck one stay, which deflected its point. Its edge had glided over her side, slicing through her shirt and corset before being deflected off her body by the next stay. The scar, if any, would be miniscule.

"Overall, I would say your ingenuity with sewing needles is owed another bow."

The service doctor beside Sir Boniface nodded in agreement. "Indeed, so. Your protective corset is quite the thing. Keep wearing it on duty. The knife got through, but not deep enough to hurt you. This will only require a light bandage. Allow me to loosen your laces and I will have it done is a trice." He chuckled. "Your fine garment, however, will require a few stitches."

Rebecca laughed with him.

Richard's tight voice called from the other side of the room, beyond a divider placed between them. "I don't see any cause for brevity. Miss Fogg could have been killed today by a knife meant for me."

"True enough," Sir Boniface said, coming out from behind the blind. "I'm surprised at you, sir. As I recall, you were making fine jokes the last time the assassin struck. Where did your sense of humor go?"

The two men's eyes locked. Richard looked away first. "Point taken, sir. Now, what do we do?"

All business now, Sir Boniface said, "You, sir, will go on as you have. That trip to the country wouldn't be amiss at this point."

"Agreed, but not possible." Richard leaned against the far wall; arms folded. "I have several meetings that cannot be canceled; meetings vital to the Queen."

Sir Boniface looked like he might insist otherwise, but kept silent. "Rebecca will take precautions. I will post a man on your street to watch your house henceforth. This was a very bold attack."

"Rebecca," Sir Boniface said, and turned to see his ward coming into view, working her way into her dress jacket with the doctor's help. "Come outside with me, please."

Rebecca left Richard safe in the office. The doctor followed them out and headed down the hall to the stairs.

"Excellent work, but the next attack is likely to be bolder still," Sir Boniface said. He palmed a small item into her hand. No one passing by would have noticed the exchange or seen her slip the item into her reticule. "Keep this with you from now on and take no chances. It will fit, won't show, and will be better than what you have."

Rebecca eyed the small weapon before drawing her purse strings closed. She, of course, already had a weapon for emergencies. She had never seen the likes of this before. "Very nice. Where did this come from?"

Sir Boniface smiled and gave a slight chuckle. "The Americans and their fascination with weapons innovations. This one is a three-shooter cartridge weapon, not like the cap and ball you have. A most ingenious innovation by Mr. Marston. It was patented just last year. This is a prototype, not another to be had in England. It should give you an edge on the opposition."

Rebecca's eyes gleamed at having something so new. The three-inch barrel looked silver-plated. The frame, shiny brass with fine scrollwork etched into it, and the grip had been mother-of-pearl, a breathtakingly beautiful weapon.

Sir Boniface saw the way his ward's eyes lit up. "Take care and don't get too attached. I intend to have that back when this mission is over, young lady. Transportation to and from government buildings must be planned. Two other agents will work with you at a distance rather than one. A carriage with an agent driver is at your disposal, too."

"Anything more?"

"Yes," Sir Boniface said. "You might consider something thicker for your corset's material, and perhaps add more boning, spaced closer together."

Rebecca had already considered such changes. Perhaps a double layer… quilted to provide extra thickness. "I will give it my full attention this evening."

With a nod, the spymaster made his leave. "Carry on then."

Rebecca returned to the office where Richard had been waiting. "I seem to remember we were on our way to lunch?"

"To the Devil with lunch!" He blasted at her. "You, just twenty minutes ago, were nearly killed on my account!"

"Doing my duty as I was assigned," Rebecca reminded him. "I wasn't killed or badly injured, merely lost a good blouse. I will expense it in my next report. This is what I do, Richard. It is what I have been trained for. Please don't let your conscience or a misplaced sense of chivalry give it another thought."

"A few other agents will be assigned to you now," Rebecca said, telling him the new precautions. "Not openly visible, but acting as backup should we have another such encounter. We will be watchful. This assassin will be caught soon. Until then, I suggest we have our lunch. Your next meeting is in two hours."

Rebecca's all business manner defused Richard's anger. The attack had unnerved him, mostly because he had not seen it coming. Had I been alone, I would surely have been killed. This enchanting and devilishly exasperating woman saw it coming and jumped between me and a knife.

That is just… completely against the natural way of things. A grown man being protected by a woman is… And even now, the woman is attempting to stare me down.

Attempting hell; she is succeeding.

What is it about a strong will and blue eyes that drive me to distraction? Instead of examining that question, Richard surrendered. He stepped to the door and opened it, making an exaggerated offer of, "After you."

Rebecca gave him a slight smile, accepting his truce. "Oh, I will proceed you out of all doors from now on."

Rebecca congratulated herself on the victory. She wasn't sure how she had done it, but would take victories as they came.