Captain Holland’s voice was implacable. She looked away, scanning his office for clues about how best to make her case. The windowsill was covered with diplomas, awards, and framed photographs of Captain Holland with prominent citizens. He was obviously a man who took pride in his position. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he’d had his son escort his wife home from the state dinner rather than leave early and forgo mingling with the cream of Washington society. Perhaps she should lean on that weakness.

“President McKinley suggested you are a man who might be able to help me. He touted your knowledge of byzantine military laws. Surely he wasn’t wrong about that. . . .” She let the sentence dangle.

Captain Holland’s spine stiffened. “I am the navy’s top legal advisor, and as such, I won’t have my credentials questioned by a woman with no understanding of these affairs.”

“I confess to having no military experience, but I understand plenty about politics. I know that a quick trial overseas will be the easiest way to sweep this scandal under the carpet and pretend there is no ongoing rebellion against the glorious American occupation. I want my brother transferred to the mainland, where I can be certain his rights are protected.”

Captain Holland’s face looked like it was carved from stone. “He stays in Cuba. End of story.”

“Then I want him to be given permission to send letters to his family and an attorney on the mainland,” she countered. “You are holding him incommunicado, and since he hasn’t been found guilty yet, I want to be able to exchange letters with him.”

Captain Holland’s gaze strayed out the window as he considered the request. “You are aware that all communication with a prisoner of his status will be read by the authorities before it leaves the island.”

She would expect no less, but she was surprised he admitted it. “I understand.”

He gave a brusque nod. “I will issue the command today. Have a good day, Miss Delacroix.”

The conversation was over. Allowing Luke to send letters to them was a tiny concession, but at least she wasn’t leaving empty-handed.

The following day, Caroline attended another meeting to discuss the reelection campaign, but it was repeatedly interrupted by the first lady. Ida had forgotten to take her nerve tonic the previous evening, so she awoke in a ferocious mood. That led to a migraine, which meant only her husband could calm her down. The president had been called out of the meeting to attend his wife, and Sven de Haas simmered in resentment as they sat in the reception room outside the president’s office, awaiting his return. On a day like this, it was hard to guess if that would be in ten minutes or two hours.