Adele glanced helplessly at Daniel once more.
“Submarines,” Daniel said. “Ships that submerge completely beneath the water, which means they can sneak up on a ship on the surface and fire weapons at them, while still underwater.”
“Without showing colors, or declaring themselves?” Adele was horrified.
“Precisely.” Daniel’s tone was sour.
“There are rumors coming out of Germany that their navy is on the verge of completing a new line of submersibles,” Melville said. “They’re driven by kerosene and have a tube which can launch torpedoes directly at the hull of a ship ahead of them, running completely underwater. The first will be launched next month.”
“Rumors?” Daniel asked. “Don’t you have a man there? Or two or more? Isn’t that part of what you are supposed to do?”
Melville scowled, a remarkable expression for a man with such a heavy brow and high forehead. “Putting an agent in Germany itself isn’t nearly as simple as searching out German agents here. I can only work with the people I find.”
“You don’t seem to be inclined to properly employ the people you already have,” Adele said tartly.
“On the contrary,” Melville said, then paused.
Adele watched him expectantly.
“The House of Lords and King Edward agree that the German threat cannot be allowed to build,” Melville said. Adele wasn’t sure if he was changing subjects or not. “The King will travel to Germany next month to speak to the Emperor about de-escalation. He will be taking a small retinue.” His gaze slid to Adele.
He wasn’t changing subjects at all.
She drew in a sharp breath. “Absolutely not. I refuse to consider it.”
“The King likes you,” Melville said. “And I need a man on the ground there to watch over the King. He’s only recently avoided a German assassination attempt, which you foiled, Lady Adelaide.”
“I believe you were the one to shoot Peter Stroud in the back of the head,” Adele said coldly, ignoring Melville’s reference to her as a man. “And my uncovering the plot was a complete accident.”
“You do not give yourself nearly enough credit,” Melville said smoothly.
“It doesn’t matter what I think or do not think about myself,” Adele replied. “I will not travel to Germany. Send Daniel. He is just as useful as me, if not more so.”
Melville shook his head. “Any men in the King’s retinue will be examined very closely and Leighton has no history serving the King directly. He will raise suspicions immediately and be too closely watched. A woman will be taken as the King’s personal indulgence and overlooked. It must be you.”
“No. I will not go.”
Melville tilted his head. “I thought you wanted to serve England.”
Adele wrung her napkin, beneath the table where Melville couldn’t see it. “You do not understand. The King…I…it would be a disaster. I cannot do this, Melville.”
Melville frowned. He looked at Daniel, who stared back. He returned his gaze to Adele. “I am afraid I must insist upon clarity, Lady Adelaide. The work we do, the business we are in, has no room for modesty and scruples.”
Adele’s face heated. “Very well then. King Edward has wandering hands and no scruples of his own. I would be forced to…to direct action that he would not appreciate.”
“She did break Boyd Waterman’s nose,” Daniel reminded Melville. “I believe for much the same reason.”
Adele leaned forward. “The King will be surrounded by officials and Royal guards at all times. He will be safer in Germany than he was in Balmoral, because everyone will be braced to watch for trouble while they’re there. You’re sending me because the King demanded I go with him, and for no other reason. Tell me I am wrong, Melville, please.”
Melville ran his hand over his thinning hair three or four times, his gaze upon the tablecloth.
Disappointment speared her, making her chest ache. Adele twisted the napkin a little tighter. “I am so tired of all these little, meaningless assignments you keep giving me. All the society affairs. The weekend house parties. You asked me to help you defend England from German ravages, yet I have wasted weeks sipping tea and dancing waltzes. There are no spies in the drawing rooms of England, and you know that.”
Melville fixed her with a steady gaze. “I think you might be surprised, Lady Adelaide. You have skills and expertise I do not. That is why you were upon the observation deck this afternoon and I wear these grubs.” He lifted a shoulder beneath the rumpled jacket.
“It is make-work, Melville,” Daniel said, earning Adele’s gratitude. “You have no idea how to use us. We could be doing something useful.”
“Yes, exactly,” Adele said. “I want to do real work, not dance with the King in the Imperial palace in Berlin.”
Melville’s gaze did not lift from the tablecloth for a long moment. Then he let out a heavy breath and reached for another scone and dumped it on his plate. “Very well,” he said shortly, sawing energetically at the scone with his knife. “For now, I will have the King informed that Leighton will accompany him.”
“Thank you,” Adele said, with a sigh.
“And what does Adele get to do?” Daniel asked curiously.
“Sleep. Eat what I want. Ignore everyone and read,” Adele said quickly. She had a dozen books sitting upon her side table, all of them barely opened.
Melville raised his knife and pointed it at her, a blob of butter hanging on the very tip. “You, my Lady, will do what I ask of you, if we are to continue our arrangement.”
Adele smoothed out the napkin on her lap. “Yes, of course.”
“I have work for you,” Melville added, his tone less sharp. “I had someone else in mind for the task, but as you insist upon not
