Enticing the Spymaster (War Girls) Read Online Free

they also came from the king. Get her out of Belgium before it was too late.
    He was marched out of the palace and made to wait. Before he could sit, the German officer struck him.
    Michael didn’t resist.
    “Your behaviour was disgusting. You frightened that poor woman half to death.”
    He didn’t have to work hard to make himself blush. “Yes, sir.”
    “Sit.”
    He did as ordered.
    The officer leaned forward. “Why did you do it?”
    Michael studied his boots. “I have no excuse.”
    “How long have you been fighting on the front line?”
    “Two months, sir.”
    “First pretty thing you’ve seen since before that, was she?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The officer grunted. “You’re fortunate she’s Belgian and not German. As it is, your punishment is to return to your duty in the trenches.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Keep your hands to yourself next time.” The officer paused. “If you survive to a next time.”

Chapter Three
    Jude returned to the ballroom. For a moment the sight of row upon row of bodies looked like graves abandoned before anyone had time to cover them with earth. Then the moans, calls for help and the slow shuffle of men looking for a place to sit or lie down wiped the mirage away.
    So much pain and sorrow, and she knew of only one way to cure it. With clean water, soap, bandages and care. Most of the men were covered in dirt, body lice and blood. Could a bathing area be arranged? Without it infections could take hold in some and spread to others.
    She spoke with the nurses, but it wasn’t hard to convince them of the need for bathing their charges. The two surgeons flat-out refused to attempt surgery on men so dirty infection was a foregone conclusion. They suggested she ask for help from the officers who had taken over the main floor of the palace, then went to bed to get enough rest to begin surgery in a few hours. Jude sent two of the nurses off as well, while the other four began the task of deciding whose wounds were in need of care, whose could wait and who wasn’t likely to live no matter what they did.
    In the kitchen, a couple of junior nurses, untrained except for the most basic tasks, were preparing a watery soup. For some of the men, it was all they could keep down. Others, not even that. Jude instructed them to boil as much water for washing as they could.
    She found a cluster of officers in the palace library, looking over a large map.
    “What is it?” the general asked, waving the soldiers guarding the door away and signalling her to approach.
    “Sir, the surgeons request the help of a few men to assist us bathing the wounded. We are woefully short of hands and may lose some to infection.”
    He stared at his map absently and rubbed his chin. “Yes, I think I can spare a squad.”
    “Thank you, sir.” She curtsied. Darting a glance at the map, she recognised trench lines and battle positions. “The surgeons also wanted to know if we should prepare for any more wounded. We are all but overwhelmed.”
    “There shouldn’t be any significant numbers for the next fi—several days. Will that be enough time for you to prepare for another wave?”
    She nodded. “Yes, sir. That should be adequate.” Dipping into another curtsy, she hurried back to the surgical suite to inform the nurses, her heart racing.
    Five days. He’d almost said it, she was sure. Her information was correct, then. She had five days to stop a massacre, to somehow get all the information she’d gleaned, either by overhearing or outright snooping, to the British. And rescue a certain British officer masquerading as a German infantryman.
    She needed a bloody miracle. Several of them. But so far during this war, miracles had been few and far between. There was nothing she could do now, in fact it would be better if she kept busy completing her tasks until most were asleep.
    A squad of soldier-helpers arrived faster than anticipated. It took hours to attend to every wounded man, but finally it was done as late