The Spy (Isaac Bell 3)
Page 123
“It is my fond hope,” he replied with a courtly smile. “Tell your waiter that we will have only sweets at our table. None of those little sandwiches. Only cakes and cream.”
“Of course, Herr Riker. As always, Herr Riker.”
Katherine was late, as usual, and he used the time to rehearse for what he knew would be a difficult discussion. He felt as ready as he could be when she stepped off the elevator. Her tea gown was a cloud of blue silk that matched her eyes and complemented her hair.
O’Shay rose as she approached his table, taking her gloved hands in his and saying, “You are the prettiest girl, Miss Dee.”
“Thank you, Herr Riker.”
Katherine Dee smiled and dimpled. But when she sat, she looked him full in the face in her direct way, and said, “You look very serious-ward-and-guardian serious. What are you up to, Brian?”
“Self-annointed ‘good warriors’ who fight ‘good wars’ accuse me with deep disdain of being a mercenary. I take it as a testament to my intelligence. Because for a mercenary the war is over when he says it is over. He retires a victor.”
“I hope you’ve ordered whiskey instead of tea,” she said. O’Shay smiled. “Yes, I know I’m bloviating. I am attempting to tell you that we are in the endgame, dearest.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is time to vanish. We will go out-and lay our future-with a bang they’ll never forget.”
“Where?”
“Where they will treat us like gold.”
“Oh, not Germany!”
“Of course Germany. What democracy would take us in?”
“We could go to Russia?”
“Russia is a powder keg waiting for a match. I am not about to take you out of the frying pan into a revolution.”
“Oh, Brian.”
“We will live like kings. And queens. We will be very rich, and we will marry you to royalty… What is it? Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” she said, her blue eyes brimming.
“What is the matter?”
“I don’t want to marry a prince.”
“Would you settle for a Prussian noble with a thousand-year-old castle?”
“Stop it!”
“I have one in mind. He is handsome, remarkably bright, considering his lineage, and surprisingly gentle. His mother could prove tiresome, but there is a stable teeming with Arabian horses and a lovely summer place on the Baltic where a girl could sail to her heart’s content. Even practice for the Olympic yachting event… Why are you crying?”
Katherine Dee put both small hands on the table and spoke in a clear, even voice. “I want to marry you.”
“Dear, dear Katherine. That would be like a marrying your own brother.”
“I don’t care. Besides, you’re not my brother. You only act like one.”
“I am your guardian,” he said. “I have pledged that no one will ever hurt you.”
“What do you think you’re doing now?”
“Stop this silliness about marrying me. You know I love you. But not that way.”