“Not particularly, only I find it amusing that you think no one knows you here. That you have slipped into this city as a stranger. I know all about you.” Von Schlegel sipped the champagne, the delicate glass a perfect fit to his slim, pale hand.
The imperious tone raised Barrett’s hackles. If not for the threat of jail hanging over him, he’d seek personal satisfaction in wiping the ridiculousness from the German’s face. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tipped his chair back. “Tell me.”
“Your mother is French. Your father British.”
“Scottish, actually.”
A blond eyebrow hiked. “Is it not the same thing?”
“Not to a Scot.”
Kathleen shifted in her chair, bumping her agitated foot against Barrett’s leg. “It’s more than an insult to confuse a Scot with an Englishman. A mistake you shouldn’t make twice, Major.”
The German brushed her warning off with a flick of his hand. “All from the same island and not worth deciphering the nuanced differences.”
Thoroughly dismissed from his own conversation, Barrett leaned back in his chair as Kathleen’s jittering foot belied the calmness of her face. “Quite a bit of difference, especially when the English marched in to rule where they weren’t wanted.”
“They brought law and order to a land of wild men running around half naked. It was for the best.”
“That’s what bullies always say.”
“Bullies.” Von Schlegel scoffed. “Men of vision.”
“Two names for the act of taking something that doesn’t belong to them. That will never belong to them.” Kathleen’s eyes flickered to her sister and back to von Schlegel. A perfectly polite smile slipped into place. “A lesson we should learn from history. But alas, some things never change.”
Barrett dug his fingers into his knee. If not for the paycheck awaiting him, he’d wring that beautiful neck of hers. This little side job he’d taken on was already proving too much of a headache. He stretched his fingers out, rubbing them back and forth to loosen the tension.
“Ease off, Kat. I’m not a little girl anymore.” Eleanor shot her sister a curdling look that was more reminiscent of a six-year-old than the elegantly coiffed woman she posed as. She leaned into her German lover. Her hand fluttered possessively over his arm. “Besides, I’ve got Eric now to defend my honor. Right, darling?”
Von Schlegel’s eyes eased down to the creamy skin exposed by Eleanor’s low V-cut gown. Grasping her fingers, he raised them to his lips. “Nothing gives me greater pleasure.” As he released her hand, the passion banked in his eyes. “Straighten up, schatz. Your dress will wrinkle.”
A vein ticked in Kathleen’s neck. “How kind of you to look out for Ellie when I wasn’t here, Major.”
“It was my pleasure from the moment we first met, and will continue to be so long after you’ve sailed away.” He draped an arm around the back of Eleanor’s chair and trailed his fingers across her shoulders. “No one can take my Eleanor from me now. Not ever.”
Like a cork ready to explode from a wine bottle, Kathleen snapped from her chair. Her long fingers curled white around her beaded handbag. “Will you excuse me a minute, please? I need to powder my nose.”
Barrett jumped to his feet, but von Schlegel remained seated with smug victory curling his lip. “Behind those curtains. Second door on the left.”
As she hurried off, Barrett grabbed the empty champagne bottle and tucked it under his arm to keep from smashing it over the Nazi’s head. “That reminds me. I’ve got a few things to check on in the back, but I’ll be back shortly and with a new bottle of this.”
“Work is never done, ja?”
“No. It never is.”
* * *
Swiping the lipstick across her mouth, Kathleen fumbled for the cap and nicked off the creamy tip of the stick. “Drat.”
She scooped the precious red curl into her fingernail and gingerly patted it back onto the stick. Not perfect, but with rationing on she wasn’t about to let it go to waste. Blotting with her lace-trimmed hankie, she slipped it and the mended tube back into her handbag and dared to glance into the vanity mirror. Normal color had returned to her cheeks. Curse that man for making her lose her cool. Tears prickled the back of her eyes. She blinked rapidly. No, no hint of tears until she and Ellie stepped safely back into England for good. And then they would be tears of joy for having escaped