Walter was correct in that Ava did enjoy conversing with his wife, who was very well-read and told about her life at the palace. The building was far too much for their family of four, so they only used a few rooms, and she shared how Walter created a place for their sons to swim by damming the large body of water outside with sand brought in to make it shallow and safe.
It was such an enchanting way of life that Ava almost missed it when James’s voice shifted from a conversational tone to something low and nearly imperceptible. She used that very moment to take a sip of her wine and strain her ears to what he said. The word wolfram was mentioned, along with contract and this week.
It took everything in her not to stiffen. Most especially wolfram—or tungsten as it was called among the Allies. One couldn’t be in Portugal without being keenly aware of its power over the Allies and the Axis.
The metal was necessary for creating bullet casings and other arms integral to the war effort. Portugal was its chief manufacturer, an asset that allowed them to maintain their neutrality.
Whatever James was saying sounded more like espionage and less like proper dinner conversation. Worse still, when the man lifted his own glass to drink, a gold swastika cufflink peeked out from beneath his black jacket sleeve.
The rich food soured in Ava’s stomach.
What sort of gathering had James taken her to?
Whatever it was, it sounded as though he had just shared pertinent Allied secrets with a Nazi.
She set her wine down and turned to Mrs. Kingsbury once more, no longer hearing what the woman was saying.
“Do excuse me,” James said abruptly in Ava’s ear.
Before she could protest, he was already out of his chair, his cloth napkin abandoned on the cushioned seat as he headed toward the door and pushed into the corridor. The servants swept in once more, their backs ramrod straight with decorum as they cleared away the dessert plates. That was when Ava caught sight of a familiar face among them: handsome as a Greek statue with short cropped blond hair.
Her head spun.
Had Lukas been with the other servants all night? Did James know? Was that why he brought her?
“Are you well, Miss Harper?” Mrs. Kingsbury asked.
“Forgive me, I think I need to use the powder room.” Ava pushed up to stand on weak legs.
“Of course. You’ll find it down the hall.”
Ava nodded her thanks and exited from the room, pausing outside the door to gather her errant wits. Or try to. They seemed to be scattered in every direction.
Had Lukas known she would be there? Was James in league with the Nazis?
Her thoughts whirled.
If James was feeding the Germans Allied secrets, she was obligated to share that information with the embassy. Soldiers’ lives depended on it. Like Daniel’s.
But if James was removed from his duty, would she still have help in saving the mother and child being transported from Lyon?
Despite it all, she didn’t want to believe he might be in league with the Nazis, that he wasn’t the good man she thought him to be.
Voices sounded somewhere nearby, muffled by a closed door. Without questioning what she was doing, she slid off her shoes and dashed soundlessly across the cold marble floor. She stopped before a set of double wooden doors carved with a handsome couple lounging beneath a large tree, the woman naked as was often the case with goddesses. Most likely Orion and Artemis based on the hunting motif.
“I best be getting back before my absence becomes prolonged.” It was James’s voice on the other side of the door.
Ava pulled in her breath and held it.
“Before you leave,” another voice said. “Does Miss Harper know?”