'I expect you're with that frightful army squad my father has staying,' Frederick went on.

'What gave it away?' asked Eve, not even glancing at her khakis.

'Your uniform,' he said, flashing that damned horrible grin again.

'Tell me,' Eve said, her fingers stilling, finally looking up at him, 'do you know what rhetorical means?'

He smiled lazily and reached out to twirl a lock of Eve's hair, which actually rather needed washing. 'I know it's a very long word for a girl as pretty as you,' he said, and Eve felt bile rising in her throat.

Outside, a car door slammed, and Frederick glanced towards the window. It was a stupid thing to do, since the drawing room didn't look out over the drive, but he looked anyway, and Eve smiled to herself. That car was, in all probability, the one Harker and Charlie had taken. Sir Dennis's car. It probably looked like something out of Gosford Park it sure sounded like it but it had to be faster than their wagon.

She turned back to the piano, and started banging out some of the tunes she'd learned in the production of Oh! What A Lovely War her amateur operatic group had done when she was about fourteen.

I knew this stupid memory for songs would come in handy some day, she thought, starting to sing loudly about not wanting to be a soldier. That ought to get Harker going. He must be useful for something.

'You sing like a nightingale,' said Frederick, raising his voice over her caterwauling.

Eve broke off for a second to smile and say, 'That's what my boyfriend says.'

His smile faltered, but not for long. 'Boyfriend? Well,' he placed his hand on the back of her neck, which caused Eve to hit several wrong notes, 'we don't need to worry about him.'

Come on, Harker, where are you? Eve thought, hammering at the keys and yelling out Do You Hear the People Sing? from Les Mis, which had got him going before.

'Now,' Frederick was saying in what he probably thought was a silky tone of voice, 'why don't you stop playing for just a moment, and'

'Eve?'

'Oh, thank God,' Eve muttered, leaping up from the stool and telling Frederick triumphantly, 'This is my boyfriend,' only to turn and see Daz standing there, looking somewhat trapped.

'Uh,' he said, and Eve gave him a determined smile, marched over and threw her arms around him. He wasn't as big and broad and scary as Harker, but he was no slouch and the stars on his shoulder denoted a captain. Above all else, he was here, which was good enough for her.

'Help me,' she muttered in his ear, and Daz gave her a confused look. Her colour rising, she pretended to nuzzle his ear while hissing furiously, 'This is the odious son of the house and he wouldn't leave me alone so I told him I had a boyfriend and now you're going to have to be him. Okay?'

'Ah,' said Daz, relaxing a little. 'Oh. Okay. Yes. Right.'

He turned to glare at Frederick, who looked mildly nauseated by Eve's nuzzling, but didn't seem to be remotely embarrassed that he'd been coming on to someone else's girlfriend.

'Captain,' he drawled. 'Lovely filly you've got there.'

'I'll thank you not to refer to her like that.'

'Will you, indeed?' Frederick let his gaze rake over Eve, who glared at him and wrapped her arms around Daz. 'Bit of skirt from the ranks, is she?'

'Skirt?' Eve said.

'Officers don't marry girls like you,' Frederick informed her, apparently deciding that if he couldn't have her, he didn't want her.

'Er, marry?' said Eve, glancing at Daz to see if the customary male panic at hearing the M word had set in. But since he knew it wasn't for real, he didn't seem to be too perturbed.

'I'll have you know, we're very much in love,' Daz said, and Eve felt like sticking her tongue out. So there. But before she could, Daz had whirled her in his arms and kissed her.

It wasn't a great kiss. In fact, it wasn't even a good kiss. It was a little closed-mouth peck, but it was done with such ceremony and flourish that Eve doubted anyone noticed the total lack of passion.

Then Harker said from the doorway behind Daz, 'When you two lovebirds have quite finished,' and her blood went cold.

Chapter Fourteen.

Okay, Eve thought, this is how I'm going to die. Not drowning in the Thames, not shot as a spy, not even of disease or old age. I'm going to get run through by Major Harker's sword.

Which was insane, because it was absolutely none of his business who she did and didn't kiss, despite the raging heat that had kept Eve awake ever since he'd argued with her in the corridor last night. But surely, she had no reason at all to be worried except for his voice. It was as if his words had been frozen solid, blasted by liquid rage, cold fury freezing each syllable into a deadly weapon. It was the same voice she'd heard speaking to the oleaginous Captain Sholt back at the Tower. A voice filled with utter hatred.

Daz straightened, dropping his arms from Eve, which made her stumble, and as she righted herself she caught a glimpse of Harker in the doorway. His face looked like marble, his eyes black with rage, and every still, terrifying line of his body told her he could kill her in a second if he wanted to.

And right now, he looked as if he wanted to.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything! Then spied Charlie flanking Harker, her hand moving to her hip and the pistol resting there. Eve swallowed and remembered about the rage, and then she realised that Harker was in civvies, and therefore hopefully wasn't actually armed.

Oh good, that means he'll just kill me with his bare hands.

But Harker was looking past Eve and Daz, whose cheeks were bright pink, to the young man leaning against the piano and sneering faintly at them all.

'I know you,' Harker said, and Frederick raked him with an extremely disparaging glance which took in the workman's clothes, muddy boots, unkempt hair and unshaven jaw.

His lip actually curled.

'I don't believe you do,' he said, his tone so bored he was almost yawning.

'No,' Harker said, and his tone was so sharp he'd have no need of a sword if he wanted to hurt someone.

Eve did not find this a comfort.

'You insulted my wife,' Harker went on, and Eve saw Charlie's knuckles go white.

'Did I?' Frederick yawned. He straightened, and made to leave the drawing room by its other door.

'Oh yes,' Harker said. 'Frederick Winterton, who never addresses a lady while looking her in the face.'

'I doubt your wife is a lady,' Frederick said without turning, and Daz winced. So did Eve.

Charlie cocked her gun.

The sound made Frederick stop, and he turned with an expression of such extreme distaste it took Eve's breath away. The man didn't actually seem to be afraid, which was incredibly stupid, since Charlie had her gun out and Harker was looking like Death having a bad day.

'God,' Frederick said, rolling his eyes. 'Father said you were a common little oik, but now you've got your lackey threatening me with a gun. Major Harker, isn't it? How terribly vulgar.'

'Oh aye,' Harker said, his voice as soft and low as the growl of a cat before it pounces. 'That's me. Vulgar through and through. A common little oik like me'd think nothing of murdering a man like you for insulting my wife. It's the sort of thing us vulgar men do.'

Frederick snorted elegantly. 'You're not even armed,' he said dismissively.

'I don't need to be.'

That got his attention. Eve saw the first hint of fear in the man's expression.

'If I were you,' Charlie said, 'I'd apologise right now.'

'For what?' Frederick said, still smirking, although less convincingly. 'I don't even know his wife.'

'Oh, but you do, Frederick,' Harker said. 'Her parents are very good friends of your family.'

Frederick looked disbelieving.

'Saskia Watling-Coburg,' Charlie supplied, her gaze darting to Harker, who still hadn't moved. It occurred to Eve that he probably didn't need to. If she were in Frederick's place, she'd probably die of sheer dread.

But Frederick just said, 'Oh God, yes. She married some dreadful thug from the ranks, didn't she? Shame. Pretty filly.' His gaze raked Harker again. 'Even she couldn't make a gentleman of you.'

Harker said nothing, but his fingers flexed minutely. Frederick saw the movement, and sneered, 'Always said you were no better than you should be.'

'Oh no,' Harker said, his voice by now very soft. 'I'm exactly as good as I should be.'

Frederick scoffed, but not very convincingly. He seemed quite disconcerted to find Harker still agreeing with him.

'But what with me being such a thug, I don't need to be very good at all, do I?'

He let that sink in. Frederick gradually stopped smirking.

'And I have not been having a very good day,' Harker added, and Frederick suddenly remembered he had to be elsewhere.

As the door clicked behind him, Eve let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Daz gave her a weak grin. Charlie tucked her gun back in its holster as if nothing had happened.

Eve braced herself, then turned to Harker and waited for the explosion. But it never came.

He didn't even look at Eve as he left the room.

The only other person who'd ever made Harker feel such white-hot fury had been Sholt. Even Saskia had never pushed him this far. The world was blurring, spinning slightly, going red at the edges.

He wanted to kill someone. Preferably Frederick, but Daz would do.

He was kissing Eve. I'm not allowed to kiss her, but he can.

Bastard.

And now she was whispering to Daz as they scurried after him. Whispering. It was one step from giggling together, like lovers. Were they lovers? Had Eve gone to him last night? When had it started? That day the barricades had broken and she'd spent all that time with Daz? Had they really been tending to the wounded or were they shagging frantically in the wagon? Were they 'Um, sir?' said Daz, and Harker heard a growl coming from his own throat. 'That back then that wasn't what it looked like.'

The red mist flared. Harker halted a second to let it fade before he walked into the door at the top of the servants' stairs. Charlie came to a complete stop behind him, Eve and Daz clattering to a halt, probably walking into each other, probably enjoying it 'I don't care what it looked like,' Harker said, his voice wooden, opened the door and started down the stairs.

'It's just, um, Frederick was hassling Eve, so I sort of stepped in, and we were look, it's not'

'I don't care,' Harker said, more emphatically this time. Maybe he could make himself believe it. 'Charlie, why don't I care?'

'Uh,' Charlie said. 'Because ... um ...'

'Because I care about the squad and the mission and I'm not letting anything interfere with that,' Harker snapped.

'Oh,' Daz said. 'Right. Er ... good?'

'Yeah,' Harker said viciously, and shoved open the kitchen door. Tallulah and Martindale were sitting at the table, Banks was flirting with one of the kitchen maids, and the large room was full of noise and movement, which all stopped when Harker walked in with his face like a storm cloud. He threw himself in a chair and glowered at his empty plate. He was hungry, but too angry too eat, and besides, if he got a sharp implement in his hand things might go poorly for the next person to annoy him.

Right on cue, Eve sat down opposite him.

He glowered at her. She ignored him.

'So how come Sir Dennis is so damn rich?' she asked Tallulah. 'I mean, he has this huge house, and a car, and electricity, and everyone else in this country is living in some sort of medieval poverty.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Harker snapped. Eve made a face at him, and he thought longingly about the pistol he'd hidden in his waistband. He really needed a cigarette, but the cook had snapped at him for lighting up this morning, and even in a blind rage, Harker knew better than to get on the wrong side of someone who fed him.

'I think it's coal,' Tallulah offered. 'He owns lots of land, of course, but it's the coal mines that make him the most money. That's how he can afford electricity.'

'Wow, next you'll be telling me he has a phone,' Eve said, her voice rich with sarcasm.

Actually, that was something he needed to find out. Wheeler had told him Sir Dennis did have a telephone, but she wasn't sure if it was connected. Maybe Daz could fix it.

That is, if he could spare time from his busy Eve-shagging schedule.

Bloody, sodding, damn Daz. All right, so she probably wasn't sleeping with him, that was a little far-fetched, but why had she kissed him? Why? What had Daz done to deserve it?

How come he could have her when Harker couldn't?

'Oi,' said Eve, kicking him under the table, and he stared at her, because he couldn't quite remember the last time anyone had been familiar, or stupid, enough to do that.

'Did you find out anything useful?' she asked him. 'Do you need ID papers or anything?'

He glared at her, actually met her eyes for the first time that day and saw the sparky defiance there. She was doing this on purpose, again. She was needling him. Her eyes were all hard and bright, her chin sticking out. She looked reckless. She looked beautiful.

'I didn't find anything,' he said eventually, 'which you need to know about.'

Eve made a choking sound, her eyes blazing. 'Oh for heaven's sake,' she snapped. 'Look, just because you're in a foul mood, don't take it out on the rest of us, okay? If you're still mad at me because I yelled at you last night, then take it up with me, don't make the rest of the squad feel like hell for it. And if it's about Frederick, oh my God, Harker, get over that. Seriously. So he letched at your ex-wife, so what? He does it to everyone. He was doing it to me. He's a slimy, arrogant twat, but there's no reason to get so stressed about it.'

'Shut up,' Harker said, in that same low, dangerous tone he'd been using on Frederick, the same tone that had made much stronger men back down, but it had no effect on her.

Dammit, did she really think he was angry because of something that had happened years ago? Because of a slimy little bastard like Frederick? No, you idiot woman, he wanted to shout, I'm angry with you!

'No, I will not. Just because'