Instinctively, her eyes swept the room for Barrett. He stood next to the crackling fireplace talking to a young girl and a man whom Henriette had pointed out as Hitler’s private secretary and valet. The only man in civilian clothes, the cream jacket stretched tight across Barrett’s wide shoulders, the erect straightness of his spine readying to rip the seams. Her heart sagged as he failed to turn at her silent call.
She wrapped her fingers around her glass, willing the coolness to draw the panic from her blood. “We hope that, ah, how can I put this delicately? Communications can be made between our two countries.”
“That’s good to hear.” Henriette leaned close, the sterile scent of soap thick on her skin. “Many would question why two English women and a Scot are allowed such privileges as hosting parties and coming here to Berchtesgaden when you are not known members of the Party, but they must understand that for our cause to succeed we must find like-mindedness in all different countries.”
Kat smiled past the sickness bubbling up her throat and softly clinked her glass to Henriette’s. “I couldn’t say it better myself.”
Henriette sipped her wine, then looked up and frowned in disgust. “Ugh, that vulgar woman is here. Uncle Alf adores her, but must she always turn up as if a party is thrown in her honor?”
Olga Chekhova, the actress from Eric’s big premiere night, swept into the hall with a rustle of black taffeta and string after string of jet beads. Accepting a glass of wine from one of the white-coated servers, she kissed Eva on both cheeks and glided over to the circle Eric and Ellie stood in. As Ellie turned her cheek for Olga’s greeting, she caught Kat’s eye and quickly looked away.
She hadn’t spoken to Kat all day past a “Good morning” over breakfast and “After you” when they got into the car to come up to Berghof. Ellie was never one to hide her feelings, and the silence scratched Kat’s nerves like nails on gravel.
“She’s coming over. Please excuse me.” Henriette made her escape as Olga sashayed around the guests and furniture to stand by the large picture window with Kat. Chanel No. 5 floated around her like a fragrant cape.
“Kat, how wonderful to see you again!” Olga’s soft Russian accent rolled off her tongue like claret as she leaned in to kiss both of Kat’s cheeks. “And how lovely you look.”
Kat smoothed a hand over her wine-colored crepe dress with flutter sleeves and satin belt. “I’m afraid I’m a bit overdressed for the evening.”
Sniffing, Olga waved a bejeweled hand in dismissal. “Don’t mind those bores. Herr Hitler believes modesty and plain looks are most suitable for a woman, but I will never forgo my lipstick, no matter his opinion.” She cocked her head, and her red lips parted in a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Appearances must be kept at all times, mustn’t they?”
Bands of dread squeezed around Kat’s lungs as Olga’s stare bored into her like a corkscrew drilling for the sweet liquid bottled below. Across the hall, a white-jacketed waiter tossed more logs into the massive fireplace. The red flames leaped like dancers, their heat twirling across the floor for her own private ensemble. She adjusted her arms as the heat scored up her sides. Who lights a fire in August? “Yes, they should.”
Olga nodded, allowing the smile to soften her face. “Speaking of appearances, I see Eric is doing well. I haven’t seen him this proud since Goebbels recommended him for the Paris posting.”
Like a peacock crowing for chickens, Eric’s gloating soared inches higher than those gathered around him. Talking and gesturing, he didn’t allow anyone else time to reciprocate. At his side, Ellie’s head lolled back and forth from boredom as Eric never thought to speak English for her benefit, as if it would slow down his storytelling. “Personal recognition from his Führer suits him well.”
“Not only for himself, but his lady friend. For an English woman, she certainly seems in her element.”
“Ellie never had a problem socializing.” Except lately with me. On a third head loll, Ellie’s eyes met hers and quickly looked away. The rouge on her cheeks stood out against her pale skin. “She’s never lacked for good times or friends.”
“And you are not that way. Very different, but very good. We all have our parts to play, yes?”
The woman’s words unnerved Kat’s already frayed sense of calm. She’d had a lifetime of learning the social