‘She has some information I need,’ said Engel. ‘If you had been on your own, I might have thought it was you.’
Fitz’s throat constricted at the comment and she could barely breathe. She forced a laugh as if the idea that Engel had been looking for her was ridiculous. ‘Oh, you would have been very disappointed if you’d arrested me, Walter.’ She looked up at him from under her eyelashes.
‘I don’t know if disappointed would be the right word,’ he replied.
‘And what word is the right one?’ Fitz touched his arm and this time managed to produce a flirtatious giggle.
Engel smiled and raised his eyebrows. ‘I’d like to think satisfied would be the right word.’
His hand rested between her shoulder blades as he guided her into the dining room.
Before Fitz could offer any reply, her attention was taken by Philippe coming over to her. ‘Claudine, I’m sorry to drag you away from Engel, but let me show you to your seat.’
Engel nodded and with that Fitz was whisked over to the table and found herself, unsurprisingly, next to Colonel Hoffman.
She glanced down the table to where Engel had been seated. Did he know she was the woman he was looking for or was he simply guessing? No, surely if he knew, he would have her arrested there and then, Fitz decided. She would have to be very careful now. She needed to get on the right side of the colonel. He outranked Engel and that would mean Fitz was safe for a while.
She had to force herself to concentrate on what the man was saying. Engel’s words rattled around in her head on a constant loop as she tried to decipher them and second guess if there was a double meaning. One that put her in a very dangerous position.
Throughout the meal, Fitz made more flirtatious conversation with the colonel. At one point, he brushed her thigh with his hand as he smoothed out the napkin on his lap. The first time, Fitz thought it was a genuine accident but after the third time, she knew otherwise.
The wine flowed as they ate their way through three courses of the most delicious food – lobster bisque, steak and then a chocolate gâteau. Fitz couldn’t deny how delectable it was but the experience was tarnished when she thought of how the people of France were being rationed for their food. This meal was extravagant and left a bitter taste in her mouth.
‘Is there something wrong with your food?’ asked the colonel as she pushed away a barely touched dessert.
‘No, nothing, at all. In fact, it’s the most delicious food I’ve tasted in a long time,’ said Fitz. ‘But I couldn’t possibly eat any more. I’ll burst out of this dress if I’m not careful.’
The colonel shifted in his seat and made some sort of noise in the back of his throat. ‘I don’t know if that will be a bad thing.’He reached his arm out and rested it on the back of her chair, his thumb caressing her shoulder.
Fitz pretended to look embarrassed. In reality she wanted to vomit at the feel of him touching her bare skin. ‘So, Colonel,’ she said, looking to move the subject. ‘Tell me, what do you think of Josselin? It’s a very beautiful town, don’t you think?’
The colonel shrugged. ‘The château is impressive but I have seen just as beautiful, if not more so back in Germany.’ His eyes lingered on Fitz. ‘But, of course, nothing can match the beauty in front of me now.’
‘That’s very kind of you to say,’ said Fitz, feigning embarrassment. She felt confident she had the colonel where she needed him. Tonight was purely a teaser – an appetiser. Tomorrow would be the main course.
The rest of the evening passed in very much the same vein. Fitz flirting with the colonel and reeling him in little by little with each giggle, each eyelash flutter, and each swell of her bust. She had made sure she didn’t drink more than one glass of wine, despite the colonel’s efforts to try to get her to indulge more.
‘I need to keep a clear head,’ she said, placing her hand over her glass as he lifted the wine bottle. ‘I’m saving myself for tomorrow evening.’
By the end of the evening, Fitz felt exhausted with all the role playing and was relieved when the men retired to another room, and she was able to say her goodnights.
Margot accompanied her up to her room, stopping outside the bedroom door. ‘Tomorrow, be ready at ten o’clock,’ said the Frenchwoman. ‘Just you. Not the child. She’ll be looked after by the cook.’
Fitz knew better than to ask questions. ‘All right. See you then. Goodnight, Margot.’
‘You did well,’ she said. ‘Hoffmann is enchanted by you.’ With that, she headed back down the hallway.
Fitz crept into the room, not wanting to wake Yvette. She turned the key in the lock and then went into the bathroom where, despite the cold water, she washed and scrubbed every inch of her body to rid herself of any trace of Hoffmann’s touch. He had indeed been very charming all evening, but she knew what he was really like. A callous, cold-hearted barbarian who was known for exercising the most vengeful acts of torture on the Bretons. He was undoubtedly behind the order to raze the village of Saint Pierre to the ground and to execute the villagers. She wondered what had prompted such action. She might be able to ask Margot tomorrow when they went off to wherever it was they were going. She suspected it was a meeting with the resistance to discuss the plans for tomorrow evening and the kidnap. She would very much enjoy luring the colonel into a trap.
Once she was washed and dried, she slipped into the blue flannel pyjamas she had brought with her. Yvette was breathing steadily. The moonlight cast a white glow across the room and Fitz slid carefully into bed not wanting to disturb the child.
‘You came back,’ whispered Yvette as she snuggled into Fitz.
‘Of course I came back,’ said Fitz softly. ‘You should be asleep by now.’
‘I will now.’
‘Goodnight, Yvette.’
