As they approached it Serena saw that the house had a handsome garden, and there was a well-tended hedge surrounding it, with a tall, ornate wrought-iron grille that closed it off from the outside. B.J.'s driver stopped the car in front of the gate, and then hurried out to unlock it before driving inside. The car stopped just in front of the house and B.J. turned toward her.
“Well, my love, this is it.”
“It looks lovely.” She beamed at him, not caring one whit about the house, only caring about what she saw in his eyes. And her own eyes seemed to sparkle as he gently kissed her, and then stepped out to lead her inside.
They walked quickly up the steps to another heavy iron door, which was almost instantly opened by a small, round, bald-headed man with twinkling blue eyes and a bright smile, and beside him was an equally small, and jovial-looking woman.
“Monsieur et Madame Lavisse, my fiancée, the Principessa di San Tibaldo.” Serena looked instantly embarrassed by the use of her title, as she held out her hand and they both executed stiff little bows.
“We are happy to meet you.” They smiled at her warmly.
“And I am very happy to meet you.” She glanced just behind them at what she could see of the house. “It looks lovely.” They seemed pleased at the compliment, almost as though the mansion were their own, and they offered immediately to show her around.
“It is not, we regret to say, as it once was,” Pierre apologized as he showed her the rear garden, “but we have done our best to keep it intact for Monsieur le Baron.” Their employer hadn't seen his home in Paris in five years, and it was possible that now ill at seventy-five years of age he would never live to, but faithful to the end, they had kept it for him, and he paid them handsomely for all that they did. Originally he had trustingly left them with a large fund for all their expenses, and now each month a check was sent to them again. In return they had cared for the beautiful home with constant love and attention, hidden the most valuable objects and the best paintings in a secret room beneath the basement, which even the Germans had not found, and now during the reign of the Americans in Paris, they were still tending the house as though it were theirs.
Like the palazzo in Rome, the halls here were of marble, but here the marble was a soft peachy rose. The Louis XV benches, set at regular intervals down the hallway, were trimmed with gilt and upholstered in a pale peach velvet. There were two exquisite paintings by Turner, of rich Venetian sunsets, a large inlaid Louis XV chest with a pink marble slab on top, and several other small exquisite pieces scattered here and there. From the hall one could glimpse the garden, visible through tall French windows, which led out onto the little paved paths bordered by pretty flowers in spring. Now the garden had little to offer, and it was into the main salon that they turned, as Serena stared in awe. The room was done in deep red damask and white velvet, there were heavy Napoleonic pieces, upholstered chaise longues in bold raspberry and cream stripes, and two huge Chinese urns beside a priceless desk. There were huge portraits of members of the baron's family, and a fireplace, large enough for the major to stand in, in which there was now a blazing fire. It was a room designed to cause one to catch one's breath in admiration and wonder, and yet at the same time it was a room that beckoned one to come inside and sit down. Serena glanced around with delight at little Chinese objets d'art, Persian rugs, and a series of smaller portraits by Zorn, of the baron and his sisters as children, and B.J. led the way into a smaller wood-paneled room beyond. Here too there was a roaring fire waiting, but the fireplace was smaller, and three walls of the room were filled with beautifully bound books. Here and there were gaps on the shelves, which Pierre pointed to with dismay. This was the only loss inflicted by the Germans. The officer who had lived there had taken some of the books with him when he left. But Pierre counted himself fortunate that nothing else had been taken. The German had been