Eve sank down on her makeshift pallet below the edge of the bed, staring at her folded hands. “René B-Bordelon wishes to seduce me.” The words fell like weights.
Lili tilted her head. “Are you certain? You don’t strike me as an accomplished player in the game of seduction, if you’ll pardon me for saying so.”
“He licked my n-neck. Then he said he wanted to have me. Yes, I’m certain.”
“Quelle bête,” Lili said softly. Taking out her little silver case of cigarettes, she lit two. “Normally one discusses bad men over a stiff drink, but a smoke will have to do. Take it! Clears the mind and kills a hungry stomach.”
Eve imitated Lili’s two-fingered hold, then hesitated, quoting her mother. “Tobacco is a g-gentleman’s vice, not a lady’s.”
“Tais-toi. We’re soldiers in skirts, not ladies, and we need a damned smoke.”
Eve set the cigarette to her lips, inhaling. She coughed, but she liked the taste at once. Bitter, and she’d tasted bitterness in her mouth since the moment last night when René stepped close.
“So,” Lili continued, matter-of-fact. “Bordelon wants you. The question is what happens when he presses the issue. How much trouble will he make for you, if you refuse? Would he report you to the Germans?”
She was seeking Eve’s professional estimation, clearly. Eve paused, taking another sip of smoke and coughing less. Her stomach rolled sickly, but more from the thought of René than the cigarette. “He wouldn’t b-bother the Germans with a personal grudge; he saves his favors till he n-needs them. But he’d likely fire me. He’s not used to b-being refused anything.”
“We could find you a new post,” Lili said, but Eve shook her head.
“Is there another place like Le Lethe? Where I could g-get good information twice a week? Where I learn the k-k-k”—striking her own knee with her fist until the word came free—“k-kaiser is coming, and on what t-train? No.” Eve dragged a swallow of smoke all the way down into her lungs this time, coughing so hard tears came to her eyes. “You n-n-n-need someone in Le Lethe.”
“Yes,” Lili acknowledged. “Would he fire you for refusing him?”
“I have to assume he would.”
“Then there is one option.” Lili looked up at the ceiling, blowing a smoke ring. “Will you sleep with René Bordelon?”
Eve stared at the glowing end of her cigarette. “If I have to.”
It was almost a relief to get the words out. She’d been circling them since last night, inspecting them from every angle. The idea made her sick and scared, but so what? Why did it matter if something scared you, when it simply had to be done anyway?
“A man of his age who chooses a girl he thinks is seventeen will assume he is getting a virgin.” Lili sounded matter-of-fact. “Are you?”
Eve couldn’t be quite so nonchalant no matter how much she wanted to be, so she just nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor.
“Putain de merde,” Lili swore, stubbing out her cigarette. “If you are really going to do this thing, you must please him in bed so you can continue to get more out of him. Otherwise you are buying a temporary reprieve from dismissal for a very high price.”
Eve had no idea what it meant to please a man in bed—frankly, her imagination stopped the moment she imagined René Bordelon unbuttoning his perfectly tailored shirt. She felt herself blanch, and Lili noticed.
“Are you really going to do this?”
Eve nodded again. “I’ll m-m-m—” The word wouldn’t come out at all, even when she pounded the floor. She let it go in a hiss, and then said, “Shit,” loudly. The first time Eve had ever sworn in her life, and it released the tight knots in her throat.
Lili’s turn to nod. “Have another cigarette, and let’s talk practicalities. A man who takes a virgin for a mistress will either wish to train her to his standards, or wish her to remain passive and innocent as he does the work. You will have to pay close attention and follow his lead. But there are things one can do that will please any man . . .” She detailed a few of them, gentle but specific, and Eve took in as much as she could, cheeks burning. Will I have to do that? And that?
To keep her job at Le Lethe, yes. She would do all of it.
Seeing Eve’s queasiness, Lili patted her hand. “Just notice what pleases him, and keep doing it. That’s really what it’s all about. Now, do you have any idea how to prevent yourself from becoming enceinte?”
“Yes.” Eve had a sharp memory, at twelve years old, of coming on her mother in the washroom late at night rinsing herself out between the legs. There had been a tube, a rubber bag. I don’t want any more of that bastard’s babies, she’d snarled, jerking her chin toward the bedroom where Eve’s father snored. Eve remained an only child; her mother’s washing must have worked.
“Nothing works perfectly,” Lili said as though reading Eve’s mind. “So be careful. No one wants a pregnant spy. That will land you home in England, and quickly, given that no one in Lille will treat you well for becoming pregnant by a collaborator.”
So many grim thoughts. Eve pushed them away for a practical question of her own. “Have you ever had to—do this?”
“There’s been a German sentry or two who wanted to see me on my knees before I got a pass through the checkpoint.”
Eve wouldn’t have been sure what that meant ten minutes ago. Now, thanks to Lili’s blunt tutorial, she had a much better idea. She looked at Lili, unable to imagine her kneeling down, reaching for a man’s buttons, and . . . “How—was it?”
“Salty,” Lili said, and smiled at Eve’s blank look. “Never mind, chérie.” Her smile faded, and they regarded each other with grim faces.
Eve tipped her head back toward the ceiling, drawing another deep lungful of smoke. She decided she liked smoking. If she ended up with another tight-mouthed landlady with boardinghouse rules about cigarettes, well, she could go to hell. “Lili, why don’t they tell us it could b-be like this? All that training in Folkestone; there’s n-n-n-not a hint we’d face anything like this.”
“Because they don’t know. And if you’re clever, you won’t tell them.” Lili looked very serious. “Do what you must, but don’t tell Captain Cameron or Major Allenton or any of the others we report to.”
The thought of telling Captain Cameron she went to a collaborator’s bed to get information made Eve cringe. “I wouldn’t tell any of them!”
“Good. Because they won’t trust you if they find out.”
Of all the things discussed tonight, that was the one to leave Eve astonished. “W-why not?”
“Men are strange creatures.” The twist on Lili’s smile wasn’t amusement. “If a woman surrenders her virtue to an enemy, they are confident her patriotism can’t be far behind. They have very little faith in any woman’s ability to resist falling in love with a man who beds her. Besides, a horizontale isn’t respectable, and a spy’s business is already disreputable enough. We can’t bring shame on our country by staining our reputations—if we’re to engage in espionage, we must do it as ladies.”