runs in the family. Not sure if I’ll appreciate that trait, but it can be curbed under the right hand.” Flicking more ashes to the floor, she turned her gaze back to Kat. “I’m Hildegarde von Schlegel.”
“Kathleen Whitford.” Kat almost laughed at the absurdity. If not for the woman’s heavily accented voice, they might have been back in a London drawing room. Of course, social introductions never occurred in dark back rooms with one’s sister’s boyfriend’s wife.
“I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I think we’re all honest enough to know that’s not true. You understand that, don’t you, Kathleen? As with me, your pragmatic sense forces you to see things as they are to decide the best outcome, unlike others who prefer to dream. My husband, for example.”
Kat crossed her arms over her chest, protecting her vulnerable spots in case the woman jumped to attack. “I never took Eric for a dreamer. The starch in his uniform prevents any kind of ridiculousness.”
“That’s true in a sense, but Eric believes in a world where he can have his cake and eat it too. No world like that exists. Something I’ve been chatting with your sister about.”
Ellie’s hands clenched to fists. “Spin your stories all you like, but I won’t change my mind. Eric doesn’t love you.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure he does, at least in his own way. If he didn’t, he would never have agreed to this deal for me.” Hildegarde crossed one leg atop the other, swishing the golden material around her ankles. “You see, love isn’t about flowers or sweet whispers in the dark. It’s about facing the cold truth together. About rising against the injustices of life together and sacrificing everything so the other may succeed. You can’t possibly understand this because, like Eric, you live in a dream world where every problem is worked out for you. It takes realists like me, and your sister, to keep the cogs turning.”
“You mean keep the arms twisted.”
Hildegarde shrugged a bared shoulder. “Whatever it takes, but a medal and lavish accommodations are hardly arm twists. They are rewards for a generous service to be provided.”
Kat stepped forward, forcing Ellie behind her shoulder. “And what service is this?”
“One of the highest honors for the Fatherland.”
“Ellie isn’t German.”
“Nein, but the blond hair and blue eyes certainly are.”
“A bottle of peroxide works wonders.”
Hildegarde’s dark eyes narrowed as smoke spiraled from her mouth. “Eric said you come swooping in every time the girl needs saving. A bit of a cumbersome trip coming all the way from England this time.”
“I hardly consider spending time with my sister in Paris cumbersome.”
The blood-red lip curled up. “Spending time—is that what you’re calling this?”
The hairs sprang up on the back of Kat’s neck. She smoothed the peplum skirt of her cream jacket to steady her trembling hands. “I would think scrambling after your philandering husband just as cumbersome.”
Hildegarde snapped to her feet. A few inches taller and several stone heavier, she towered over Kat like a shimmering monolith. Her rich brown hair was piled high atop her head, her heart-shaped face was perfectly powdered and rouged like porcelain, and thick black lashes crowded her brown eyes. Without the sneer she was quite beautiful.
“You know nothing. This conversation is private. Get out.”
“Rudeness to my sister won’t win you any favors, Frau von Schlegel. Not from me.” Ellie stepped away from Kat’s protecting shoulder. The ruffles on her bodice fluttered from her frantic heartbeat. “I’d watch my tongue from now on.”
Hildegarde’s red nails bunched the golden fabric at her sides. The seams groaned in protest. “Ungrateful child. Do you know the number of strings I had to pull to get that medal without proof?”
Ellie’s laughter screeched like nails on glass. “‘Ungrateful’? You should be the one throwing yourself at my feet. I don’t want that ugly medal.”
Fingers turning white, Hildegarde twisted forward like a gnarled branch. “You think I’m grateful for having to grovel in this situation? To throw my last shred of hope into your filthy English basket?”
“It’s not my fault your husband came looking for me because you’re barren.”
Cold sickness grabbed Kat by the stomach and twisted. She grabbed Ellie’s arm, forcing her to look at her. “Ellie, what deal has Eric made you?”
Ellie tried to wrench her arm free, but Kat held fast. Ellie shook her head, not meeting her eye.
Hildegarde’s contorting rage simmered as she stood straight and tall, her molten dress glistening in the lamplight. Sparks of triumph flared in her