Michael, Joan’s husband owned a semi-detached property just across the road from Doveby House, the seventeenth-century manor house that Joan and Janet owned. Some six months earlier, while Joan and Michael had been on their honeymoon, a fire had destroyed the other half of the property. Michael’s house had suffered little damage, although the smell of smoke had penetrated just about every inch of the property and its contents.
Fortunately for the couple, they’d been planning on living at Doveby House after their marriage anyway. Joan had a large suite of rooms right next to the modern kitchen on the ground floor of the house. Prior to Joan’s marriage, the sisters had used the property as a bed and breakfast, renting out two of the three large, en-suite bedrooms on the first floor. Janet’s room was the largest of those three bedrooms.
A few months after Joan’s wedding, Edward had proposed to Janet. They had been married only a few months later and had only recently returned from a lengthy honeymoon in both Paris and Venice. The early days of the holiday had been interrupted when Edward had unexpectedly needed to go back to work.
Edward had spent his career working for a top-secret government agency. He was meant to be retired, but because a man’s life had been at stake, he’d been persuaded to return to service. Janet had managed to get herself involved in the case and, once it was over, it had been suggested that the agency might call upon her and Edward to help with assignments in the future.
If today’s visitor needed to speak privately with her and Edward, then Janet was fairly certain she knew whom was expected. “Mr. Jones?” she asked Edward.
He nodded.
“Is he bringing Christopher with him?” was her next question. Mr. Jones was the man responsible for giving Edward his assignments and overseeing his work. Janet wasn’t entirely certain what Christopher Porter’s job was. He was either an assistant to Mr. Jones or was being trained to replace him. Whichever, Janet quite liked Christopher, who was much more personable than Mr. Jones.
“I don’t know. Mr. Jones didn’t say. I didn’t actually speak to him. He simply texted to say that he would be here at ten o’clock,” Edward told her.
“This morning or this evening?” Janet asked.
Edward chuckled. “Now that you mention it, it could be either. I hope it’s morning, as I’ve grown rather accustomed to having early nights since we’ve been married.”
Janet felt herself blushing. “He didn’t tell you what he wanted, then?”
“Not at all. I assume he has a job for us, though,” Edward replied.
“I hope not,” Joan said sharply. “From what I’ve heard, his jobs put you both in danger.”
Janet had told her sister as little as possible about the things that had happened in Paris, but she couldn’t completely explain away Edward’s concussion and hospitalisation. Joan had always been the more cautious sister. She and Janet had lived together all of their lives, and Joan had done her best to instill the same wariness in Janet.
“You know I would never willingly put your sister into any danger,” Edward said, reaching over to squeeze Janet’s hand.
Joan nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.
“I’m quite capable of making my own decision, once we’ve spoken to Mr. Jones,” Janet said tartly. “All we’ve done since we’ve been back from our honeymoon is read books and watch television. That’s all well and good, but I’m already starting to get a bit bored. I’m sure Edward is even more bored than I am, seeing as how he had a much more exciting life before he married me.”
“I don’t mind the quiet life,” Edward countered. “I’m still getting to know you, which is a wonderful way to fill my time. Besides, I did retire so that I could stop racing around the world, stopping or starting coups, protecting heads of state, or infiltrating criminal organisations.”
“You should write a book,” Joan suggested.
Edward laughed. “I’d never be permitted to write about anything I’ve done.”
“Do you really think this Mr. Jones is going to have a job for you?” Joan asked Janet as the sisters cleared the breakfast table.
Janet nodded. “I can’t imagine why he’d be coming to Doveby Dale otherwise. He isn’t the type to simply want to visit.”
“Maybe it will be a job for Edward alone,” Joan suggested.
“Edward told him that I had to be a part of any assignments going forward,” Janet told her. “I can’t see him trying to persuade Edward to change his mind on that.”
Once the dishes were safely stacked in the dishwasher and the kitchen had been tidied, Joan and Michael, who’d had his breakfast more than an hour earlier, went across the road to Michael’s house. Edward was reading in the library when Janet found him.
“What shall we do this morning?” she asked him as she sat down next to him on the small couch.
“Let’s take a walk in the garden,” he suggested.
Doveby House had extensive gardens, and the pair often spent hours walking hand in hand through them. It was cold outside, but dry. Janet put on a coat, and she and Edward went out through the door from the kitchen.
“What if Mr. Jones is early?” Janet asked as they began to stroll slowly along a random path.
“He’ll be exactly on time, either this morning or tonight,” Edward told her. “It isn’t like him to be anything less than crystal clear as to his intentions, but I reread the text and it does simply say ten o’clock.”
“As we’ve no plans for the day, it doesn’t really matter what he meant,” Janet replied.
