She thought his gaze slipped—or wanted to, for the slightest moment. His smile dimmed. “I can see that.”
“Can you? And yet you’ve done nothing but treat me as a child since I’ve returned.”
“I wish you still were. Children are less likely to attract trouble from the Germans.”
“Edward, why did you follow me to the closet earlier? when the Hauptmann tried to kiss me?”
“Aren’t you glad I did?”
“Of course! I just want to know why you followed.”
“Because I saw the Major watching that Hauptmann with what I took to be mistrust, all the while the Hauptmann was watching you.”
She smiled again. “Because I’m no longer a child?”
He ran both hands through his hair now and shrugged away from the wall, looking at the press again. “Yes. Well. I should be going; it’s late, and I won’t want to take advantage of using my passes after curfew too often.” He neared the door. “Why don’t you go up first, just to make sure Clara hasn’t returned unexpectedly? I’ll go out if the coast is clear.”
Isa stared at him a moment, wondering what he would do if she simply kissed him. Would he slap her, the way she’d slapped the Hauptmann? Kissing was certainly a personal thing, and one ought not do that without an invitation. Having just suffered such an assault, she should be the last one to consider doing something like that now.
And yet she wanted to, if only to forever erase the feel of the Hauptmann’s lips violating hers.
But she couldn’t. Instead, she passed him and went up the stairs to make sure no one would see him leave.
* * *
Edward let out a breath the moment Isa was gone. What was he thinking? He’d very nearly taken her into his arms just now—in an embrace that would in no way resemble any number of hugs they’d shared in the past.
And what had she been thinking? Reminding him like a little coquette that she was all grown up now? Any idiot could see that. Certainly the Hauptmann had.
It reminded him of that day the horses in the street had made him throw her to the side; he had reacted in the way any man would, holding someone so lovely. He’d written it off as a by-product of feeling strong and protective of her at a point of danger.
But now this. It wasn’t as if he liked her. Even if there were no war, he couldn’t possibly entertain the notion of loving Isa. Her family was not to be tolerated, particularly that arrogant older brother of hers. He was no doubt having as much fun as ever, safe and free and far from any hint of war, sacrifice, or danger. Very likely never gave the war a thought.
And yet the truth was too obvious. Isa wasn’t at all like her brother. She’d returned here because of Edward’s mother. She’d sacrificed her freedom, whatever money she could smuggle in, her old way of life.
He doused the light, letting himself out of the room when he heard her quiet call from the top of the stairs. Now was most definitely not the time to become involved with anyone. He’d meant it when he said the same to Rosalie.
He certainly didn’t need the distraction of one Isa Lassone. All grown up.
22
It is easy to laugh when one sees a German advocate employing what he calls “diplomatic dexterity.”
La Libre Belgique
* * *
Isa tried to open her eyes, but only one obeyed while the other remained stubbornly stuck. She listened for a moment, thinking she might have imagined the pounding. It was, she could tell from her window, still dark. Who would be calling at this hour? It was far too hard to leave the warmth of her covers just to check on a sound. She rolled over.
But the sound increased. A shot of energy tingled through her veins, and her heart drummed with the pounding.
The press!
Isa threw the covers off and reached for her robe, forgetting her slippers in her haste.
How could she, even in sleep, forget that in this very house was an illegal press and she was responsible for it?
She ran from her room and passed the Major’s closed door, hearing an angry grumble from within.
“What is that racket at this hour?”
Isa flew down the stairs. There she met Clara, disheveled and appearing every bit as stupefied as Isa felt.
“Oh, mademoiselle, I am afraid to answer! It is before curfew, and they say only bad news comes to the door