Ritter knit his brows. “We’re going to need to coordinate, then. Logistical nightmare really.”
Krause gave him a wide, white-toothed smile. “We can do it. After all, we’re Germans—we’re nothing if not efficient.”
“I’ll radio Captain Vogt and tell him to ready U-two-forty-six for guests,” Ritter said.
Krause smiled even wider. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That if we can pull this off we’ll get promoted?”
“Exactly.”
Ritter turned serious. “Just pray that Operation Edelweiss goes as well, or else.…”
“Becker will be pissed.”
“Not just Becker. I’m worried about Hess.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Day two of the Red, White, and Blue Christmas.
After Maggie had woken, dressed, and begun the long trek to the nursery, she heard the sound of a radio coming from the breakfast room and stood by the door to listen to the BBC report on the wireless, detailing the previous night’s Luftwaffe raid on London. There were also highlights of the Prime Minister’s radio address, which he’d made from his makeshift office at Windsor, the previous evening, to the people of Italy, blaming Benito Mussolini for leading his nation to war against the British, in the face of Italy’s historic friendship with them: “One man has arrayed the trustees and inheritors of ancient Rome upon the side of the ferocious pagan barbarians.”
Maggie looked in to see guests from the previous evening’s banquet now helping themselves to breakfast from silver chafing dishes set up on large sideboards. Most were dressed in hunting attire: red coats, pale breeches, and glossy black boots. Louisa was there as well, in the requisite uniform accented with a yellow vest and a strand of gray pearls. She called to Maggie, “Coming along?”
“Back to work for me, I’m afraid,” Maggie replied.
Louisa frowned as she contemplated the idea of “work.” She looked up as Polly arrived and beckoned her over.
Like an obedient puppy, Polly obeyed. “Have you ever chased the wily red creatures, Maggie?” Polly asked, plump cheeks aglow in anticipation of the hunt.
“No,” Maggie said. For she hadn’t—and had no wish ever to do so.
“Oh, it’s great fun,” she enthused. “So exhilarating.”
“Probably not for the wily red creatures.”
Louisa was nonplussed. “Well, these days we’re hunting more for meat than for sport. Deer season, don’t you know. Survival of the fittest.”
Gregory, helping himself to a Bloody Mary, caught sight of Maggie, and meandered over to meet the ladies. “Good morning!”
“We British are a bloodthirsty lot beneath our formality,” Louisa added.
“Are you hunting too?” Maggie asked.
“No, no,” he said. “I find the sounds of shots being fired a bit disturbing after Norway.”
“Of course,” Maggie said, realizing that for Gregory being around guns might bring back bad memories. “And how was the rest of your evening?”
“Fantastic,” he said. “Your friend David’s quite a wit.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Maggie felt a sisterly pride in David. I wonder what really happened last night.
“Actually,” Gregory said, “I thought I could perhaps be of service to you and Crawfie, as I know the big performance is tomorrow.”
“You’re an angel,” Maggie said.
Audrey, in her black dress and starched white apron, came in with another silver platter of scrambled eggs, which she set down on the loaded buffet table.
“It’s a big weekend for everyone,” he said.
David had some time while the Prime Minister was in meetings and, briefcase safely ensconced in his room’s safe, decided to take a walk around the Great Park, even though the air was cold and the sky overhead a sullen gray.
There were footsteps behind him, crackling on the dead grass. It was Gregory, in his tweeds, cap set at a jaunty angle, striped school scarf around his neck. “Taking some air?” David said.
“Coming to warn you,” he replied. “Most of the castle’s guests are hunting today. They’re both armed to the teeth and still drunk from last night—or the hair of the dog. I’m concerned it’s not safe out here, under the circumstances.”
“By Jove, I think you’re right,” David said. Behind the high stone walls of the castle, he could hear the clomping of horses’ hooves, men’s shouts, dogs barking, and the occasional high whinny. Then, “I’ll need to get back to work soon anyway.”
They walked along together, their breath visible in the cold air. “And does work always come first for you?” Gregory asked.