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position in the Barbican group. I can choose only one of you, but that does not mean the decision has to be made today.”
    Adrian frowned. “But—”
    Liverpool raised a hand. “To that end, a little competition never hurt anyone.” He looked at the two of them and seemed to reconsider. “Well, it never has in the past. I believe, in this case, competition could be beneficial. Therefore, I am assigning both of you to my brother’s case. The operative who solves the murder of my brother first will be reinstated into the Barbican group. The other operative receives nothing. That is my decision. Do you understand it?”
    “Yes, sir,” Sophia answered with a huge smile.
    Adrian shook his head, tried to clear it. Liverpool couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t actually expect Adrian to share this assignment with a woman.
    “Lord Smythe?” Liverpool asked. “Am I understood?”
    Adrian gritted his teeth and ground out, “Yes, my lord.”
    “Good.” The prime minister gathered his hat from where it had fallen in his haste to rise. “Then I shall expect my first briefing at Lord Dewhurst’s ball. Good night, and do not fail me.”
    Adrian watched as the man disappeared into the darkness. A moment later, the assistant returned to collect the chairs and the lantern.
    And then Adrian was thrust into the shadows. Beside him, his wife, his competition, pulled on her mantle and sighed. “I declined the invitation to Dewhurst’s ball.”
    “You’ll have to call on Lady Dewhurst. Say it was a misunderstanding.”
    “The invitation was addressed to both of us. You should call on Lord Dewhurst and accept.”
    He shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone knows wives handle correspondence and invitations. You—”
    “ I am thoroughly exasperated.”
    He could see the outline of her hand as it cut through the gloom.
    “How are we to work together to solve a murder,” she continued, “when we can’t even settle a benign domestic issue? This is never going to work.”
    “Of course it’s not going to work. I propose—”
    “I’m leaving.”
    “You’re not going out alone at this time of night in this part of town.”
    “Watch me.” She strode out of the room, and he heard the door creak closed behind her. He had just enough pride to stay where he was. He wasn’t going to chase after her.
    But he had another idea.

Six
    Sophia stepped into the library and silently closed the French doors behind her. She latched and secured them, though she knew it was scant protection against intruders. She found the lock easy enough to pick.
    She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room. The town house was silent but for the occasional creak and settling. She could hear the tall case clock in the library’s corner ticking quietly, and it soothed her as much as the room’s smell of leather and musk.
    She realized it smelled like Adrian.
    It was after two in the morning, and as easy as it would be to assume no one in the house stirred, she knew that was a mistake. Adrian could be here. Waiting for her.
    She’d left him in the dilapidated building in the East End and found her own way home. He hadn’t been happy when she’d walked away in the middle of their tiff, but he hadn’t come after her, either.
    Not that he would have caught her.
    But if she had been caught, would that have been so bad?
    Yes , she told herself as she stomped through the library. Yes.
    This turn of events, this revelation of her true identity, was a horrible mistake. It was going to change everything. She could already see Adrian was going to behave as a typical man and try to keep her from her work. She expected no less from him or from any man.
    But his attitude would make this investigation difficult. And it would make life difficult. She had the feeling Adrian would not be so easy to avoid from now on.
    She cracked the inner library door, scanned the adjoining music room and, seeing it was clear, stole past the