Page 39 of The Elusive Phoebe (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #1)
Inside the chest was a treasure trove of information.
The top layer contained what were clearly the tools of Robert's former trade—several sets of false identification papers, wigs and other disguises, coded correspondence, and maps marked with routes and safe houses across England and the Continent.
But underneath the spy equipment, Phoebe found what truly mattered.
"His retirement papers," she said, lifting out an official-looking document bearing several impressive seals. "Look, Archie—it's dated just two weeks before his death. He really had resigned from intelligence work."
"What does it say?"
Phoebe read aloud: "'Lord Robert Smalling, having served with distinction in Her Majesty's intelligence service for seven years, is hereby granted honorable retirement from all covert activities, effective immediately.
His service record is sealed, his pension secured, and his right to peaceful retirement acknowledged and protected by Crown authority. '"
"So he was free," Archie said quietly. "He really was planning to come home to you."
"Yes." Phoebe's voice was thick with emotion. "And look at this."
She lifted out another document—a list written in Robert's careful hand, titled "Trusted Contacts - For My Wife's Protection."
The list contained names, addresses, and authentication phrases for government officials across England, all marked with Robert's personal assessment of their loyalty and reliability. At the top of the list was a note in his handwriting:
"Phoebe - If you ever have need of official protection or assistance, these are the only men in government service whom I trust completely. They knew of my retirement and supported my decision to choose love over duty. They will honor my memory by protecting my wife."
"This is invaluable," Archie said, examining the list. "If we ever need government help, we'll know exactly who to trust."
At the very bottom of the chest, wrapped in oiled silk, was a small mechanical device that looked like an ornate compass. The second piece of Robert's cipher puzzle.
"Two down, one to go," Phoebe said, carefully unwrapping the device. Like the music box from Rosemont, it was clearly part of a larger mechanism, designed to connect with other components.
"And when we have all three pieces?" Archie asked.
"I suspect we'll finally understand what Robert's greatest secret really was," Phoebe replied. "Something important enough to hide across three different counties, something valuable enough to attract the attention of dangerous enemies."
As they carefully repacked the chest, leaving the spy equipment but taking the retirement papers, contact list, and cipher device, Phoebe felt a profound sense of peace settle over her.
This cave, this hidden sanctuary by the sea, represented Robert's dream of leaving his dangerous life behind.
He had prepared this place as a retreat from the world of espionage, a place where he could be simply a man in love with his wife.
"He would have been happy here," she said softly, looking around the cave one more time. "We would have been happy here."
"Do you regret that you never had the chance?" Archie asked gently.
Phoebe considered the question as they made their way back toward the cave entrance, where the sound of returning tide could already be heard echoing off the rocks.
"I regret that he died before we could discover what we might have been to each other," she said finally.
"But I don't regret the path that brought me to where I am now.
To Somerset, to the Widows, to..." She glanced at him meaningfully.
" To the understanding that love doesn't have to mean losing myself. "
They emerged from the cave into the late afternoon sunlight, the tide already beginning to lap at the rocks near the entrance. In another hour, the cave would be completely inaccessible, Robert's secrets safely hidden until the next low tide.
As they climbed back up the cliff path, Phoebe carried with her not just Robert's cipher device and documents, but a deeper understanding of the man who had loved her.
He had been prepared to give up everything for their marriage—his career, his exciting work, his sense of purpose in service to the Crown.
He had chosen love over duty, just as she was beginning to understand she might choose love over fear.
The cottage glowed golden in the evening light as they reached the top of the cliff, and Phoebe found herself looking forward to a quiet evening by the sea with the man who had proven himself worthy of her trust. Tomorrow they would travel to London for the final piece of Robert's puzzle, but tonight they could simply be two people who had found something precious together.
"Thank you," she said to Archie as they approached the cottage door.
"For what? "
"For being patient with my discoveries. For letting me understand Robert's love without being threatened by it. For..." She paused, searching for words. "For proving that I can trust you with my heart."
Archie's smile was soft and warm. "I'll spend the rest of my life proving worthy of that trust, if you'll let me."
"Ask me again in London," she said with a smile that held more promise than she'd ever thought she'd be ready to give. "When we've solved all of Robert's puzzles and I fully understand what future he prepared for me."
"I'll ask you in London," Archie agreed. "And I'll keep asking until you're ready to answer."
As the sun set over the Channel in a blaze of gold and crimson, Phoebe felt another piece of her heart settle into place.
She had loved Robert, and she was grateful for the brief happiness they might have shared.
But the future—her future—was still unwritten, and she was beginning to believe it might include a love that enhanced rather than diminished her hard-won independence.
They were making their way toward the cottage door when Archie suddenly stopped, his hand shooting out to catch Phoebe's arm .
"What is it?" she whispered, immediately alert to the tension in his posture.
"There," he breathed, his eyes fixed on a point beyond the cottage. "Someone's watching us."
Phoebe followed his gaze and felt her blood chill. A dark figure stood silhouetted against the evening sky on the ridge above the cottage—too far away to make out features, but close enough to have been observing their movements for who knew how long.
The moment the figure realized they had been spotted, it melted back into the shadows with practiced stealth.
"Stay here," Archie commanded, already moving toward the ridge with surprising speed.
"Archie, no!" Phoebe called after him, but he was already running, his long legs carrying him swiftly up the slope.
She watched in tense silence as he crested the ridge and disappeared from view. Minutes passed—too many minutes—before she saw him returning, alone and clearly frustrated.
Archie returned from his pursuit breathing heavily, his face flushed with exertion and frustration.
In the fading light, Phoebe could see the tension in every line of his body, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the sharp alertness in his eyes as he continued to scan the horizon.
"Gone," he said grimly as he reached her. "Whoever it was knew the terrain well. There are a dozen paths leading away from that ridge, and I couldn't track them in this light."
"Did you see anything? Any clue who it might have been?"
"Just a glimpse. Male, medium height, dark clothing. Could have been anyone." Archie's jaw was tight with anger—at himself, she suspected, for letting their watcher escape. "But they were definitely observing us, probably for some time."
The realization hit Phoebe like a physical blow. Someone had been watching them during their most intimate moments of discovery. Someone had seen them emerge from the cave, had witnessed their joy at uncovering Robert's secrets, had observed them when they thought they were safe and alone.
"How long do you think they were there?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself against a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air.
"I don't know." Archie ran a hand through his hair, still breathing hard from his fruitless chase. "Could have been minutes, could have been hours. Damn it, I should have been more careful. I should have been watching."
"You couldn't have known?—"
"I should have known!" Archie's voice was sharper than she'd ever heard it, frustration and fear making him sound almost angry. "Phoebe, if something had happened to you because I wasn't paying attention, because I was too focused on Robert's puzzles to notice we were being watched..."
He turned away from her, his shoulders rigid with self-recrimination, and Phoebe saw something that made her heart clench. His hands were shaking.
Archie—steady, confident, capable Archie—was shaking with the aftershock of fear. Not for himself, but for her.
"Archie," she said softly, moving closer to him.
"We have to leave. Tonight. It's not safe here anymore." His voice was controlled now, but she could hear the underlying tension. "I'll send word to Mrs. Thornbrook, arrange for additional security. We need to?—"
"Archie." She reached out and touched his arm, feeling the tremor that still ran through his muscles. "Look at me."
He turned reluctantly, and in his face she saw something that took her breath away. This wasn't just concern for her safety—this was terror. Raw, unguarded terror at the thought of losing her.
"I'm all right," she said gently. "We're all right."
"This time," he said roughly. "But what about next time? What if I'm not fast enough, not careful enough? What if?—"
"Stop." Phoebe stepped closer, close enough to see the rapid pulse at his throat, the way his chest rose and fell with unsteady breathing. "Just... stop."