were carefully disconnected from a sense of time or place. Bloody hell, she had been so concerned about not having her own obfuscation noticed that she had failed to notice his. She ran her fingers over her friends' letters, as though invoking their assistance. It's time to think, ladies. What do I really know about him?
Three hours of thinking later she could only come to one conclusion. He was a spy as well. Had she been playing him? Or had he been playing her?
Two nights later she saw him across the ballroom with new eyes.
The very best operator will never be noticeable , Master Dorchester had said. They are the most genuine. The most human. They may have been your best friend for years. Because if you are a good information source you really are their best friend. But they don't value the same things from a relationship that most people do. Once you are no longer useful, they are done with you.
Was Rokiczana a master operator? She had been searching her mind for anything that she might have said, or even hinted at, that would be worthwhile information for the Prussians.
He saw her looking at him and smiled. Although her mind was still contemplating what it was he really wanted from her, she felt heat bloom in her chest from his attention. She had thought him attractive when she met him, but now he was irresistible. He had somehow become her ideal of attractive and that worried her. Madame Blythe had been correct. She should have run away the first time he kissed her. Far, far away. Now she had to worry that she had unwittingly betrayed the Empire. Or would. Or could.
She turned to the refreshments table for a cup of Arrack punch. It wasn't the best solution, but perhaps with enough of the sweet liquor in her veins she would stop obsessing and be able to make some progress.
A hand touched her elbow. "What's wrong?"
He must have moved across the ballroom as soon as she looked away from him.
"It's nothing," she said. "I just received some correspondence from home."
"Bad news?" His voice was soft, intimate. Every tone suggested sympathy. But could she trust it? She looked up into his eyes. Warmth. Worry. Could it be feigned? She knew better than most how long people could live with lies.
On the other hand, lies made people brittle, not warm. But Master Dorchester's warnings about the best operators lingered in her mind. Her silence must have gone on for too long because he gripped her elbow more firmly and said, "Come."
She didn't fight him as he led her around the periphery of the room and through the doors to the outside.
C HAPTER T WELVE
Casimir took Gina down the stone steps and out into the gardens, past the lights of the party. Once they were in sufficient shadow her pulled her close. How he had missed holding her like this. But rather than lean into his embrace as she had before, she remained tense. Not fighting him exactly, but not embracing him either.
"What's wrong, Gini?"
"It's nothing important, I just… I missed a wedding."
"Whose?"
"A friend. One of my best friends. She had to marry suddenly in February and I wasn't informed of it until today."
He regretted that he couldn't see her face clearly in the pale moonlight. She sounded sad. Bereft. "I'm sure she'll forgive you."
She snorted at that. Where most women would cry, his Gini just became derisive. "Undoubtedly she will."
"So what's truly bothering you?" She was quiet for so long that he began to doubt that she would answer him.
"What will you do once the Congress is over?" she asked softly.
Ah. This he could understand. He was also agonizing over the ending of the Congress and not seeing her again. "That's hard to say. I don't… I don't really have anywhere to go. Well, that's not exactly true. I have places I can go. Just no place that I have to be."
"You said you were a gentleman. You don't have lands?"
He gave a dry chuckle. "It's complicated, but the short answer is no. I have people, but no
Three hours of thinking later she could only come to one conclusion. He was a spy as well. Had she been playing him? Or had he been playing her?
Two nights later she saw him across the ballroom with new eyes.
The very best operator will never be noticeable , Master Dorchester had said. They are the most genuine. The most human. They may have been your best friend for years. Because if you are a good information source you really are their best friend. But they don't value the same things from a relationship that most people do. Once you are no longer useful, they are done with you.
Was Rokiczana a master operator? She had been searching her mind for anything that she might have said, or even hinted at, that would be worthwhile information for the Prussians.
He saw her looking at him and smiled. Although her mind was still contemplating what it was he really wanted from her, she felt heat bloom in her chest from his attention. She had thought him attractive when she met him, but now he was irresistible. He had somehow become her ideal of attractive and that worried her. Madame Blythe had been correct. She should have run away the first time he kissed her. Far, far away. Now she had to worry that she had unwittingly betrayed the Empire. Or would. Or could.
She turned to the refreshments table for a cup of Arrack punch. It wasn't the best solution, but perhaps with enough of the sweet liquor in her veins she would stop obsessing and be able to make some progress.
A hand touched her elbow. "What's wrong?"
He must have moved across the ballroom as soon as she looked away from him.
"It's nothing," she said. "I just received some correspondence from home."
"Bad news?" His voice was soft, intimate. Every tone suggested sympathy. But could she trust it? She looked up into his eyes. Warmth. Worry. Could it be feigned? She knew better than most how long people could live with lies.
On the other hand, lies made people brittle, not warm. But Master Dorchester's warnings about the best operators lingered in her mind. Her silence must have gone on for too long because he gripped her elbow more firmly and said, "Come."
She didn't fight him as he led her around the periphery of the room and through the doors to the outside.
C HAPTER T WELVE
Casimir took Gina down the stone steps and out into the gardens, past the lights of the party. Once they were in sufficient shadow her pulled her close. How he had missed holding her like this. But rather than lean into his embrace as she had before, she remained tense. Not fighting him exactly, but not embracing him either.
"What's wrong, Gini?"
"It's nothing important, I just… I missed a wedding."
"Whose?"
"A friend. One of my best friends. She had to marry suddenly in February and I wasn't informed of it until today."
He regretted that he couldn't see her face clearly in the pale moonlight. She sounded sad. Bereft. "I'm sure she'll forgive you."
She snorted at that. Where most women would cry, his Gini just became derisive. "Undoubtedly she will."
"So what's truly bothering you?" She was quiet for so long that he began to doubt that she would answer him.
"What will you do once the Congress is over?" she asked softly.
Ah. This he could understand. He was also agonizing over the ending of the Congress and not seeing her again. "That's hard to say. I don't… I don't really have anywhere to go. Well, that's not exactly true. I have places I can go. Just no place that I have to be."
"You said you were a gentleman. You don't have lands?"
He gave a dry chuckle. "It's complicated, but the short answer is no. I have people, but no
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