“Two days?” Charles suggested.
“Hardly worth going for that short of a time,” Katherine pointed out. “She’ll stay with the Cordells and it should be fine.”
“I think she should send a really nice gift,” Charles began.
“The gift Cecily will like is her friend turning up to support her, Father. On a day like your wedding, you want to see family and people you’ve known for years who love you,” Margot told him.
“I didn’t know you were so close to her,” Charles said with a frown. “It must be years since you’ve seen her.”
“Months,” Margot corrected him. “We have exchanged letters, but that’s all got nothing to do with being a friend now.”
“Berlin is not—” Charles began again.
“Really, Charles, Berlin is a very civilized city,” Katherine said. “And reasonably well disposed toward the English. Indeed, the people of Berlin have strong friendships with many notable people. And not only Mosley and the Mitford sisters, also some of them like Lady Colefax and the Duchess of…I forget, but she’s very well connected.”
“Half the royal family is German, my dear, and none of it makes any difference if you get in trouble in Berlin.” Charles’s face was grim. “Or in any other German city, or Austrian city, for that matter. I don’t want you taking the risk. And even the profoundest apology won’t help.”
“You’re exaggerating.” Katherine smiled placatingly. “Margot’s got enough sense to be careful. She’s not Elena, Charles.”
“Elena did rather well.” Charles looked as if the remark had surprised himself.
“With Margot’s help,” Katherine pointed out.
Margot looked from one to the other. “Mother, I’m over thirty. I’ll go if I want to and not if I don’t. Cecily Cordell is my friend, and I’m going to support her and be there to wish her happiness. I’ll be a guest of the British embassy. Right now, that means quite a lot. As you point out, several of our rich and titled people are falling over their own feet to impress that appalling little man, Adolf whatever. The most they’ll do is make me sick with their disgusting manners.” She added, “And don’t fuss, Father, I’m going to have fun and wish Cecily well. God knows, she needs it.” She turned to Josephine, who so far had not spoken.
“Oh, I agree with you,” Josephine said. “But that doesn’t mean to say I would be right.”
* * *
—
“Did you mean that?” Lucas asked in the car on the way home, driving slowly along the dark roads, which were darker still under trees.
“As far as I went, yes,” Josephine replied, as if staring straight ahead of her, through the windscreen, might help her think.
“Do you think she’ll be safe?” Lucas asked.
It was a question with many layers of meaning, some darker than others. Josephine took a few moments to choose how she would answer. “Margo will go if she wants to, and our arguments will only confirm her decision. She looks lovely. She’s so full of life and occasionally laughter. But have you looked at her face in repose, Lucas?”
“I know. She still grieves for Paul,” he answered. “Maybe she always will. And certainly she won’t forget him; she would despise herself if she did. But she has no purpose. She needs something to fight for or against. All that intelligence and energy is being wasted, turning back against her.”
“Let her go,” said Josephine.
“Could I stop her?” There was self-deprecating amusement in his voice.
“You could probably stop her from going to Berlin, if you tried hard enough,” Josephine answered. “You couldn’t stop her fighting against herself, one way or another.”
Lucas took his hand off the wheel for a moment and put it over hers.
She gripped it gently.
CHAPTER
4
Elena woke up the first morning in Trieste and wondered where on earth she was. The bed was comfortable enough, but a bit narrow. She felt that if she turned over, she might fall out.
The room was totally unfamiliar. There were no curtains on the window, only wooden shutters, but they were very effective at keeping the daylight out. There were only slight cracks around the edges allowing in enough light to see the outline of the simple furniture: a wardrobe into which she had unpacked her clothes, a chest of drawers for underwear and personal things, a basin on a handsome wooden stand, and a big ewer of water. The water was cold, of course. Hot water was in the bathroom…or was it the kitchen? She only dimly remembered the rest of the small apartment. She had the necessities and not a lot more.