Страница 20 из 21
“We will leave,” Isabelle said.
“Leave?” Via
“Of course.”
Via
Via
The captain nodded. “Merci, Madame. I will get my things.”
* * *
As soon as the door closed behind the captain, Isabelle said, “Are you mad? We can’t live with a Nazi.”
“He said he’s in the Wehrmacht. Is that the same thing?”
“I’m hardly interested in their chain of command. You haven’t seen what they’re willing to do to us, Via
“Rachel’s house is too small for all of us, and I am not going to abandon my home to the Germans.”
To that, Isabelle had no answer.
Via
“Via
The front door rattled hard. Another knock.
Via
Captain Beck stood there, holding his military hat in one hand and a small leather valise in the other. He said, “Hello again, Madame,” as if he’d been gone for some time.
Via
As she turned, she saw the living room that had been decorated by three generations of her family’s women. Golden stucco walls, the color of freshly baked brioche, gray stone floors covered by ancient Aubusson rugs, heavily carved wooden furniture upholstered in mohair and tapestry fabric, lamps made of porcelain, curtains of gold and red toile, antiques and treasures left over from the years when the Rossignols had been wealthy tradesmen. Until recently there had been artwork on the walls. Now only the unimportant pieces remained. Isabelle had hidden the good ones.
Via
She opened the door to reveal a narrow room with a large window, bracketed by blue-gray curtains that pooled on the wooden floor. A painted chest of drawers supported a blue pitcher and ewer. In the corner was an aged oak armoire with mirrored doors. By the double bed sat a nightstand; on it, an antique ormolu clock. Isabelle’s clothes lay everywhere, as if she were packing for an extended holiday. Via
His suitcase plunked to the floor. She looked at him, compelled by simple politeness to offer a tense smile.
“You needn’t worry, Madame,” he said. “We have been admonished to act as gentlemen. My mother would demand the same, and, in truth, she scares me more than my general.” It was such an ordinary remark that Via
She had no idea how to respond to this stranger who dressed like the enemy and looked like a young man she might have met at church. And what was the price for saying the wrong thing?
He remained where he was, a respectful distance from her. “I apologize for any inconvenience, Madame.”
“My husband will be home soon.”
“We all hope to be home soon.”
Another u
“Tell me he’s not staying,” Isabelle said, rushing at her.
“He says he is,” Via
“Childish rebellion! Are you—”
The guest room door opened, silencing Isabelle.
Captain Beck strode confidently toward them, smiling broadly. Then he saw the radio in the room and he paused. “Do not worry, ladies. I am most pleased to deliver your radio to the Kommandant.”
“Really?” Isabelle said. “You consider this a kindness?”
Via
“Of course.” He smiled, looking a little confused. The sudden silence seemed to u
“Do you think so?” Isabelle said, her voice low.
“Quite lovely.” Beck smiled.
Isabelle walked into the kitchen and came back with a pair of boning shears.
His smile faded. “Am I misunderstood?”
Via
Via
“No,” Beck said. “She is angry. And angry people make mistakes in war and die.”
“So do conquering soldiers,” Isabelle snapped.
Beck laughed at her.
Isabelle made a sound that was practically a snarl and pivoted on her heel. She marched up the stairs and slammed the door shut so hard the house shook.
* * *
“You will want to speak to her now, I warrant,” Beck said. He looked at Via
Via
Scratches marred her cheeks and throat; a reminder of what she’d seen and survived. And now her hair was hacked off, the ends uneven.
Via
“I could kill him in his sleep, just slit his throat.”
“And do you think they would not come looking for a captain who had orders to billet here? Mon Dieu, Isabelle.” She took a deep breath to calm her racing nerves. “I know there are problems between us, Isabelle. I know I treated you badly as a child—I was too young and scared to help you—and Papa treated you worse. But this is not about us now, and you can’t be the girl who acts impetuously anymore. It is about my daughter now. Your niece. We must protect her.”
“But—”
“France has surrendered, Isabelle. Certainly this fact has not escaped you.”
“Didn’t you hear Général de Gaulle? He said—”
“And who is this Général de Gaulle? Why should we listen to him? Maréchal Pétain is a war hero and our leader. We have to trust our government.”
“Are you joking, Via
Via