Touch of Steel: A Novel of the Clockwork Agents by Kate Cross Page B

wickedly sharp blades.
    “These are good work,” Arden remarked when they were done. “Is there any chance the Company could also track the device in the ring?”
    “I’m not certain, but probably.”
    The redhead nodded. “I will have to alter the transmission frequency, then. These items will be returned to you when you depart on your mission with Alastair.”
    Alastair, was it? Just how close was this woman with her husband’s best friend? “Even my gun?”
    “Yes, though it will probably be trusted to Lord Wolfred’s care.”
    “Of course,” Claire replied flatly.
    “I will also have a few new devices for you, such as a pair of garters made with gregorite threads.”
    She frowned. That sounded ridiculous. “So my stockings will be certain to stay up?”
    Whiskey eyes met hers. This woman had to have been a schoolmarm in a former life, because Claire suddenly felt as though she should be cleaning a chalkboard in penance. “They can be used to slide across wire or beams without injuring your hands, and may also be used to bind an enemy’s wrists and ankles. I know one female agent who survived a particularly nasty gunshot wound simply by using a garter as a tourniquet.”
    “A variety of uses, then. Excellent.”
    The woman gathered up Claire’s weapons and placed them back in the carpetbag. Claire wanted to fight Arden for her gun, just so she could have its familiar metal—the comfort of it—in her hand.
    “You’ll be traveling as husband and wife. The agency has seen to it that suitable clothing will be provided for you. Dr. Stone provided your measurements.”
    Husband and wife? She and Reynard? “No one will believe we’re married.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because we can’t stand each other.”
    “Oh no. That’s fairly commonplace amongst the English.”
    Claire snorted, eliciting a small smile from her companion. She hadn’t noticed before, but now she could tell Dr. Stone was only pretending to work at her table. She was obviously listening and watching them and making sure no one got all riled up. Honestly, Huntley was one of the best men she’d had the privilege of knowing, but he wasn’t worth shedding blood—not to Claire.
    Arden fastened the bag. “I understand you weren’t wearing one of the earpieces we’ve seen on several of your associates.”
    “Those are used only on the ones they need to keep tabs on.” She watched the woman’s expression. Huntley had been outfitted with one of the devices.
    “Ah. That makes sense.” She lifted the bag and turned to leave.
    “Why did you come here?” Claire inquired. “Surely they could have sent someone else to discuss gadgetry and what’s expected of me. Why you?”
    “I asked to come.”
    “Of course you did.” She would have done the same. “Surely there’s more? Questions you want to ask? Don’t you want to hurt me a little?”
    Arden lifted her slightly pointed chin. “I have no wish to hurt you. I simply wanted to see you with my own eyes.”
    “And now that you have?”
    The other woman stared at her, unflinching and a little detached. This wasn’t what Claire expected. She’d slept with more than one married man in the course of her life, mostly in the line of duty, or out of her own need to connect with a human who wouldn’t try to court her afterward. She’d never met any of the wives, until now. It wasn’t pleasant knowing she might have hurt this woman, or anyone else.
    “I’m not jealous of you,” she was told. “Not in the way you might think. I waited for him. For seven Km. 1" facyears I waited, and he was shagging you. Living his life as though I didn’t exist. Can you comprehend how that makes me feel?”
    “No. For what it’s worth, he tried to remember you. One night he said your name in his sleep. The next day he saw the Doctor and went back to being their good little machine.” That didn’t seem to make the other woman feel better. “I never loved him, and he never loved me. His mind