you. And you can barely see the destroyed picture in the background.”
Kat ducked her face into her teacup to keep from smiling. Last night’s antics had kept her heart beating double time well into the early hours of the morning before she finally fell asleep. From outside in the garden, Barrett had made them wait until panic was in full swing before slipping back inside amongst the frantic guests. The curator rushed around with buckets of sand and water while Eric stood still as a statue in the center of the room. White as paper, with shadowed flames dancing on his tunic, he had demanded that the culprit come forward. Barrett had grabbed his arm and forced him to help usher the ladies out.
She had been beyond terrified, yet a secret pride thrilled through her at having helped destroy a Nazi foothold in something that gloated over the death of an entire culture. Perhaps she could make better use of her presence than simple cocktails after all.
She took a sip of her cooled tea. “At least no one was hurt.”
“That’s right,” Ellie agreed, folding the paper and stuffing it under her plate. “Pierre, did you get the croissants?”
Pierre appeared in the doorway with a fresh pot of coffee. The black smudges under his eyes popped out in his flushed face. “Non. The baker is out of flour. I am sorry.”
“That’s all right. We’ll try again next week when the new rations come out.”
Pierre set the pot on the silver trivet in front of Ellie and backed toward the door. “New week may be the same, or worse.”
Ellie refilled Eric’s cup before topping off her own. “What do you mean?”
Pierre’s eyes flickered to Eric before dropping to the patterned rug beneath his feet. “There is not enough flour to go around. Many of the bakers are trying rice or mashed potatoes as substitutes.”
“Well, that sounds . . . interesting. Surely that doesn’t include German officers. I don’t know how we’re expected to get by on potatoes.”
“Many do,” Kat said quietly, shamed by taking a place at the Nazi buffet of plenty over the past few weeks while the rest of France was reduced to scrounging for food where they could. The tide of battle must be worse than reported if Eric’s table was to be rationed.
Blissfully unaware of the unspoken, Ellie sipped her creamed coffee and smiled. “At least the coffee is still good.”
Pierre’s face wobbled in relief before he spun around and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Kat leaned forward and dropped her voice. “Is he always so nervous?”
Ellie sighed and leaned back in her chair. She tugged her chiffon robe back over her exposed shoulder. “Yes, but more so lately. I think he’s worried about losing his job, but I’ve assured him I’ll sell the silver and furs before I see him go. Him and Sylvie. Hard times and we have to stick together.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” Eric gulped back his steaming, sugarless brew and grimaced. “I bought you those things. Workers come and go.”
“You keep saying things like that, and people will wonder if there’s a heart beating beneath that starched uniform of yours.” Ellie reached out and tapped a finger against his chest.
Eric captured her hand and raised it to his lips. The harsh lines softened around his mouth. “I’m sorry, schatz. Last night has me on edge.”
“That’s because you didn’t sleep.”
“No, I didn’t.” He turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Perhaps I could use a rest.”
His husky tone indicated he wanted anything but rest. Kat shot to her feet before she had to listen to any more. “I think I’ll go for a walk. Maybe to the Champs de Mar.”
Her announcement fell on deaf ears. Hurrying from the room, she decided a walk was just the ticket to calm her mind and nerves. From the giggles following her down the hall, a nice long walk was in order. She turned the corner to her room.
“—but the rabbi has already said to hide the Torah and prayer books after the Germans raided the 14th arrondissement. We need to flee before they catch us too.”
“Hiding in plain sight is our best chance. How many other Jews do you know who have kept their jobs? Almost none. Our families will starve if we leave now. Things cannot be so bad or the papers would have reported it.”
“Von Schlegel will catch us.”
“Not if we are careful.”
Kat’s slipper-clad feet stumbled to a halt as Pierre and