The Queen's Accomplice (Maggie Hope Mystery #6)(21)

Miss Lynd gave a slow nod. “Not bad, not bad at all.” She contemplated them, as if trying to make up her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Miss Sanderson and Mr. Thompson. You each did assessment and training at Wanborough Manor, then paramilitary work in Scotland. You completed your parachute training at Ringway airfield, then continued on to our so-called Finishing School at Beaulieu in Hampshire.” Miss Lynd pronounced it the English way—Bew-lee.

“Yes, ma’am,” Hugh answered.

“You both also have special skills—Miss Sanderson, you as a ballet dancer, and Mr. Thompson, you as a cellist.” Though she rarely visited the training schools herself, Miss Lynd received regular reports from instructors as each agent progressed. She looked down again at the file on Sarah Sanderson. Too beautiful, one instructor had noted. Will only draw attention. Too headstrong. Too used to getting her own way. DO NOT recommend.

But Miss Lynd ignored the comments. She’d become quite used to the skeptical, if not downright damning, comments that came back to her about the women trainees from the men in charge. The male staff at the schools appeared awestruck by the “feminine” qualities of the women, who were “painstaking,” “lacking in guile,” and “innocent.” Either that, or they were “too fast,” “devious,” and “slatternly.” What the men really meant, in Miss Lynd’s opinion, was that women shouldn’t be serving behind enemy lines at all.



Sarah reached into her handbag and pulled out a cloisonné cigarette case. Hugh pulled out his lighter and flicked it for her.

Miss Lynd shook her head. “No smoking, Miss Sanderson.”

Both looked to her, and one of Sarah’s perfectly angled eyebrows shot up as Hugh’s flame went out.

Miss Lynd held up a hand, her rings sparking in the light. “In France, women do not smoke. Only the men receive cigarette rations now. And women smoking is forbidden by the Nazis—it’s not considered ‘ladylike’ and might not be healthy for any children of the Reich.” She leaned forward. “It’s not only the language you must perfect but all the details.”

“Is that it? The big news? We’re going to France?” Sarah put her cigarette case away and snapped the bag closed.

“This has all been rather hush-hush, you know,” Hugh added.

Miss Lynd leaned back in her chair before replying. “What is it you think you’re going to be asked to do? Any clues from your training? Your interviews?”

“Commando work, I’d say,” guessed Hugh. “At least given the curriculum—parachute jumping, stealth shore landings at night, blowing up bridges and roads, using intermediaries, bo?tes aux lettres, Morse code, and the like. And somewhere in France, I’d guess by the language classes. But—”

“Yes?”

“But there were—ah—women training alongside men. And Miss Sanderson is a…a woman.” He cleared his throat. “Obviously.”

Sarah smiled. “I’m glad you noticed, darling. Those jumpsuits we wore weren’t at all flattering.”

Miss Lynd suppressed a smile. “Actually, Mr. Thompson, women are our secret weapon here at SOE. We women are underestimated by the Germans. And while most men of fighting age are being shipped off to the East, women may still travel freely.” She looked directly at Hugh. “Do you have a problem with working with female agents, Mr. Thompson?”



“No, no, I’ve worked with female agents before, that is, a female agent in particular, but not—”

Sarah blinked. “Do you mean Maggie?”

“Miss Sanderson!” Miss Lynd barked, and Sarah jumped in her seat. “The less you know about your fellow agents in this business, the better.”

“Sorry,” Sarah amended.

“Back to the subject at hand,” Miss Lynd chastised. “We’d like you both to go to occupied France.”

Sarah and Hugh exchanged looks. “What would our mission be?” the dancer asked.

“First, are you amenable?”

Both nodded.

“I need verbal confirmation.”

“Yes,” they replied in unison.

“When would we leave?” Sarah asked.

“All in good time, Miss Sanderson. You both have one last training session, in a house called Blackbridge, in Beaulieu, on the estate of Lord Montagu. You’ll be given French identities—names, backgrounds, everything. All your papers for your new identities will be in order. During your time in Hampshire, you will speak only French. And you must stay ‘in character’ for your entire stay.”

“And then?” Hugh asked.

“And then, after a final evaluation—if you prove ready—you’ll be sent to France.”

“To do what exactly?”

“I can only paint in the broadest strokes—your mission will be to help organize resistance and serve as liaisons to London. You’ll be told specifics if and when you pass the final tests of the Finishing School.”



Sarah looked to Hugh with a broad smile. “So, we’re to work together, then?”

“Yes, it will be part of your cover story. You’ll be filled in on all the details when you reach Beaulieu. Do you agree?”

“I do,” the two said.