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to
have family. Folana had no family. I stood up, stepped into my
skirt, and pulled it up over my hips.
    “I have something for you. I’d planned on
giving you this after our tea, but you distracted me.”
    “You expected to see me before this
evening?”
    “No, I was going to send it to your flat.” I
reached into my purse, took out a small jeweler’s box, and handed
it to her.
    “I have nothing to give you.”
    “On the contrary. You’ve given me an
afternoon filled with the most exquisite passion.”
    Folana pressed the catch, and the lid
snapped up to reveal the jeweled brooch. She removed it from the
box. “Violets.”
    Three flowers, each with five flawless
amethysts for petals. The leaves and stems were formed from
emeralds.
    I smiled regretfully, thinking of the lovely
flowers in Lady Portia’s conservatory. “I wanted to give you the
real thing, but they would only have lasted a few days.” I took it
from her and pinned it to her breast. “I don’t think we’ll see much
of each other, Folana.” I drew her head down to mine and kissed
her. “And I’m sorry for that. I think…”
    “You think too much, Portia. What you’ve
given me…Oh, not just this very pretty brooch,” when she saw my
puzzlement.
    “Then what?”
    “The knowledge that two people can find each
other in this mad business…”
    “I beg your pardon? I’m a civilian in these
matters.”
    “Of course you are.” She smiled and brought
my palm to her mouth, and then folded my fingers over the brief
caress, as if to insure I never lost it. So fanciful of me. “I
promise you this: if you ever have need of me, contact Sir Joseph.
He knows how to get in touch with me.”
    Yes, he would, wouldn’t he?
    I couldn’t promise her the same. When it
came down to it, Folana Fournaise answered to no one but herself. I
didn’t have that freedom.
    I gathered up my purse and we walked out of
the bedroom. “Take care, Portia.”
    “ I stenhozzád , Folana.
Farewell.”
    I gathered up my jacket and the parcel from
The Best of Times, and left her there in Bart Freeman’s flat, while
smoke curled in the kitchen from the chop that burned, and he
watched in affronted impotence.
    Her laughter followed me out the door.
    Late the next morning I flew back to the
States.
    * * * *

Chapter 3
    A tall, dark-haired man carrying a briefcase
approached me in the first class passengers’ lounge. “Miss Sebring?
I’m Bradford.”
    “How do you do?” I held out my hand. “Thank
you for offering to accompany me home.”
    “It’s my pleasure.” His grip was firm but
not painful. “I have some work I’ll need to catch up on, so I hope
you won’t mind. I picked up some magazines for you to read on the
flight.” Vogue, Mademoiselle, and Ladies Home Journal , as
well as True Confessions and Modern Screen .
    “That’s very kind of you.” I sighed and
thought of the Anna Karenina I’d planned to read in the
original Russian.
    “Not at all, not at all.”
    Once we had boarded and fastened our
seatbelts, he took a file from his briefcase and buried his nose in
it. He only set it aside when the stewardess wheeled the cart with
our dinners on it down the aisle.
    It was 4:47 P.M. when our flight landed at
Friendship International. The country was still on Standard Time,
and the sun had already set.
    Bradford escorted me to baggage claim and
remained with me until Tony arrived.
    “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “Miserable
traffic this time of day. Thank you, Bradford.” Tony shook his
hand.
    Was Bradford going to get a commendation for
seeing I made it across the Atlantic in one piece?
    “You’re welcome, Sebring. Miss Sebring, it
was a pleasure. I’ll just be going now.” He smiled, although it
never reached his eyes, and then nodded and hurried out of the
terminal.
    I had no doubt I’d never see him again, and
so I dismissed him, instead studying my oldest brother
carefully.
    “You look tired, Tony.”
    “So do you. Only you’ve the