curled behind her ears. She reached up to loosen the strands, but Sylvie had used enough pins to keep them steady against the Second Coming.
“Miss Whitford, are you all right?”
Kat eyed the floor and its instant coolness. “Yes, of course.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” Barrett slipped a hand under her elbow.
“A gentleman never calls out a lady about such things.”
“I’ve been called many things, but ‘gentleman’ usually isn’t one of them.” He tugged on her arm. “Come on, now.”
Back upstairs, he sat her at a table and brought over a glass and a pitcher of ice water. Sipping the coolness, she considered chucking her ladylike principles and pouring the entire pitcher down the back of her hot neck.
Barrett grabbed the chair opposite her, twirled it around, and straddled it. Surprise, caution, and concern rippled in the dark-blue depths of his eyes. “Better now?”
She nodded. “I didn’t eat much of a breakfast, and all those stairs, you understand.” One dark eyebrow lifted in dubiety. Flushing, she reached for the pitcher and poured a fresh glass. “Not going to call me out on that one?”
The ripples stilled in his eyes. “Maybe later.”
A soft breeze drifted in the open window to cool the back of her neck. The scent of fresh bread and cab exhaust mingled in a strange concoction on the air that was uniquely “large city.” Kat peeled off her white-netted gloves and placed them on the table next to her glass. “What do you suggest?”
“Not sure.”
“Mine wasn’t good enough. Surely you have a plan in mind.” She dropped her voice and leaned forward. “One the Germans aren’t dipping their hands into.”
Draping his arms over the back of the chair, he tapped a rhythm on the table. “I found out about you only last week. I’ll need a few more days to see your mettle before I decide which route is best.”
Straightening, Kat flattened her hand on top of her gloves. “I don’t understand what my mettle has to do with leaving France.”
“Because if I tell you to crawl on your belly through mud and barbed wire for ten miles to get past a nest of snipers, then I need to know you’ll do it without question.”
“Even if it’s littered with broken glass both ways. As long as I can get Ellie out of here.”
“What makes you think she’s going to go along with you? She’s sitting pretty right where she is and from what I can tell has no intention of leaving anytime soon.”
“You leave her to me.”
“Your determination is admirable, but we’ll see how it holds up when the fires get lit. Believe it or not, there’s more at stake here than your sister’s safety. A war, in case you hadn’t heard.” Long and blunt tipped, his fingers tap, tap, tapped and fell still. “Until then I suggest you enjoy the sights of Paris.”
Sit tight, go shopping, smile and sip wine, and let the men chart the path. Her whole life had followed her father’s urging hand. Steady and sure, she had dutifully followed it in hopes of earning a mere smile of approval from him. When his political powers didn’t reach far enough to France, he had phoned up his old regiment chaps at SIS with instructions for her. And now Barrett. A man to pour her a glass of champagne with one hand and strangle the neck of the enemy with the other.
She glanced down at her hands poised atop the table. One would never know the restlessness quaking within them.
“There’s nothing I’d like to do more on my lovely holiday than stroll by the Eiffel Tower and see it littered with all those little red-and-black flags and guarded by armed men, but Major von Schlegel has organized an afternoon of viewing the latest exhibition he’s set up in honor of the Fatherland.”
“Play nice with him. Those officers are trained to spot dissonance and squash it immediately with the heel of their jackboot. In fact, mentioning an interest in the Anglo-German Fellowship will help ease him and the others off your back. But only if you can make it believable.” His brow scrunched in doubt. “On second thought, stick to what you know.”
“Like how Mr. Burgess and Mr. Philby joined the Anglo-German Fellowship in hopes of disguising their communist affiliations, or how John Macnamara has ties to the Hitler Youth?” She pressed her fingers to her mouth in mock shock. “Oh, dear. Was I not supposed to know that?” Why did men assume all women knew nothing of