He leaned over her, his eyes communicating an unmistakable ruthlessness. “It is very important you try to remember exactly what sort of business Herr Reiter owns.”
“You don’t have to take that tone with me.” Katia dropped her hand and pretended to pout, all the while gauging Schmidt’s mood from below her lashes. Why would a mere naval officer care what a man like Friedrich Reiter did for a living?
Before Schmidt responded, Elena pushed in front of him and softened her expression. “Try concentrating, dear.”
“Yes, all right, Mother. I shall try.”
She let out a sigh, careful not to overplay her role. This was no game. One misstep and her mother’s life could be in danger.
In truth, the British had told Katia very little about her contact. Standard operating procedure. For all she knew, Friedrich Reiter was exactly who he pretended to be—a wealthy Austrian shipbuilder.
Having stalled long enough, she drew her eyebrows into a frown. “Yes, I remember now. He is in construction. Or…shipbuilding, perhaps? One of the two.”
Schmidt’s lips flattened into a hard line. “Which is it? Construction or shipbuilding?”
She flung her hair over her shoulder, fully into her role in spite of the German’s open hostility. “Who can remember such tedious details?”
“You seem to have no problem remembering countless pages of dialogue.”
She gave him a pitying look and put the royal princess in her voice. “Herr Reiter is a patron of the arts and he adores me. Nothing else matters beyond that.”
Although he quirked an eyebrow at her, Hermann Schmidt visibly relaxed. “Of course, how could I have forgotten where your priorities lie?”
The sarcastic twist of his lips gave Katia pause. Like so many of his kind, this man was far too sharp to fool for long.
It was time to change the subject.
“Let’s not talk about Herr Reiter anymore.” She turned her focus back to her mother. “I had no idea you were coming to the theater this evening. You said nothing of it this afternoon at tea.”
A slow smile spread across Elena’s face. She looked at her escort with a question in her eyes. “Should I tell her?”
He nodded slowly, but there was a possessiveness in his gaze that had Katia swallowing hard.
Elena took both of Katia’s hands in hers and sighed. “Hermann and I have marvelous news to share with you.”
Katia looked from one to the other. At the happy expression they exchanged, a sick feeling of dread tangled in her stomach.
Oh, no. Please, please, no. “What…what news?”
“We are engaged to be married.”
“Why, that’s…” Katia’s breath caught in her throat. Even if the Lord had long since abandoned Katia, God could not be so cruel. “I…I’m speechless.”
“I’ve been waiting for your mother for many years.” Masculine pride danced in Schmidt’s eyes as he spoke. And something more. Something dark and ugly. And very, very determined. “Now I have her at last.”
Elena moved to the Nazi’s side and positioned herself shoulder to shoulder with him. “As you know, Hermann and I were childhood friends, before I met your father.”
“I remember.” Katia had to sink her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from shouting at her mother to wake from the nightmare that held her in its clutches.
How could Elena, a devout Christian with a secret Jewish grandfather, agree to marry a man whose only god was Germany and whose professed savior was Adolf Hitler?
“Congratulations.” She nearly choked on the words. “I am very happy for you both.”
“Oh, darling.” Elena pulled her into a tight embrace. “I am so glad you’re pleased.”
“I only want you to be happy,” she whispered into her mother’s hair before stepping back.
“Hermann has three days before he ships out again.” Elena’s breath caught in her throat and tears shimmered in her eyes. “It is my fondest wish that all three of us spend time together during his visit.”
Three days? How was Katia to complete her mission for the British with her mother demanding all her time? An unprecedented flush of desperation made her words rush out of her mouth. “But I am in the middle of a play. I have to be here every night and I—”
“Don’t worry, darling.” Elena patted her hand. “We’ll simply spend the days together then have a late supper after your performances.” Her tone was full of determination, a tone Katia knew well. In this, Elena would not relent.
Katia’s composure threatened to crack, then she remembered her British contact’s open declaration for her affections.
The man’s game had been an act, but a brilliant, impromptu one that could be used to her advantage now.
Her best chance was to continue the ruse. “I’m sorry, mother. I have already promised Herr Reiter I would spend the rest of the week with him.”
Elena dismissed the argument with a quick slash of her hand. “Cancel your plans. You must take this opportunity to get to know Hermann.”
Knowing better than to argue at this point, Katia nodded. “Let me see what I can do.”
Unused to having her wishes denied, Elena took the vague promise as complete agreement. “Good. Now that that’s settled, we would like you to join us for a celebratory supper this evening.” Supper? Tonight?
Katia couldn’t bear the idea of breaking bread with Hermann Schmidt. In truth, she feared it with all her heart. But she feared her mother being alone with the man far more. “I would like nothing better. Just give me a moment to change out of my costume.”
Without looking back, Katia fled to her dressing room. Weary from the drama of the evening, she sat staring straight ahead and rubbed her left hand as if it ached. A shocking wave of panic gripped her heart, making her breath sit heavy in her chest.
Overwhelmed, she buried her face inside her palms and fought back the tears burning behind her eyelids.
She was so…incredibly…tired.
How she wanted to accept MI6’s invitation to escape this godforsaken country and live in England for the duration of the war. But Katia couldn’t leave Germany without her mother. And Elena Kerensky would never leave. Not with her recent engagement to her childhood friend, a man who happened to be a ruthless Nazi naval officer.
How would Katia protect her mother now?
Chapter Four
After bidding Elena and her escort good night, Katia shut the door with a soft click. Pressing her eyes closed a moment, she released a sigh of frustration.
The night had gone worse than expected.
Already, she could see that Kapitän zur See Schmidt was going to be a problem. It had been foolish of her to hope otherwise.
The female in her wanted to kick something in frustration. The royal princess in her had been trained too well to give in to the childish display of emotion. The spy in her needed to quit stalling and formulate a plan.
Glancing at the mail laying on the entryway floor, she decided to ignore responsibility a little while longer. Food first, plan second. She hadn’t been able to touch her meal at the restaurant, not with Schmidt firing off pointed questions between scowls.
Clearly, the Nazi neither liked nor trusted her.
Good. At least she knew where she stood with the man. That would make her planning less complicated. She would use her fiercest weapons of cunning,