tell you there is a German Major right upstairs who might be very interested in your visit.”
He seemed to pale somewhat, and for the barest moment she wondered if she was wrong. But even if she was, how could she help him? It was impossible. One thing she’d sworn to Gourard was never to reveal the names she did know to anyone other than those he directed her to.
“Perhaps you should go,” she said softly.
Just as she spoke, a tall shadow approached the kitchen door and Isa knew without looking that it was Henri. No one filled a doorway quite like him.
“Shall I have my friend show you to the door?”
The young man looked from her to Henri and then back again. “But I’m an American like you. Why won’t you help me?”
Isa had no answer, at least not one she could tell him. She had only to give one quick glance Henri’s way and he stepped forward. The man nearly jumped to his feet and hurried through the kitchen door.
Isa closed the door behind him. “I hope I’ve done the right thing.”
Henri put a hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up at him, he nodded.
It wasn’t easy to accept his consolation. “But how can I know?”
He pointed to his heart.
“There was something . . .” She looked up at Henri again, almost surprised at her own realization. “It was the way he ate that bread, as if he wasn’t even hungry. If he’s been hiding, wouldn’t he have been nearly starving? Everybody’s hungry—except maybe German soldiers.”
Henri nodded again, then went out the door as if to make sure the other man was nowhere in the vicinity.
14
Let us hope the hens lay their required number of eggs as demanded by the Germans, and the pigeons return to their cotes under the new German clocks.
La Libre Belgique
* * *
“Pull it tighter around each pin,” Genny said gently as she watched Isa’s attempts at lace making. They sat in the parlor under an oil lamp, the electricity out today. The room glistened under the old-fashioned lighting and Genny couldn’t help but wonder if the surroundings were enhanced because of it. The blue seemed softer, the gold fixtures muted, the wood more lustrous.
Genny hardly felt qualified to teach anyone how to tat lace, yet it was one of the few things they could do to pass the time. Isa was a willing if not particularly brilliant student.
“If Viole were here, she would have you weaving through those pins in no time. Out of the chaos will emerge a flower or a leaf or something just as lovely. You’ll see.”
“The process is slow! It’ll take me until Christmas to finish this panel.” Just then Isa dropped the little bobbin from her hand, and she retrieved it with an exasperated sigh.
“Mademoiselle,” came Clara’s voice from the parlor archway.
“What is it, Clara?”
Clara looked over her shoulder at the stairway from which she’d just come. “It’s the Major, mademoiselle. He wishes . . . he wishes to dine with the family tonight!”
“Oh . . .” Genny saw the dismay on Isa’s face and knew it must match her own. But she also knew she mustn’t cave in to her natural inclination. Nor must Isa.
Isa was already answering. “Tell him he is more than welcome to use the dining room downstairs, but as we’re in mourning, we are dining simply and in the kitchen.”
“It’s been two years since Jonathan’s death, Isa,” Genny reminded her. “The period of mourning—”
“Lasts as long as we are occupied by the German army.”
Genny raised a brow. “I’m sure that will be well received.” She looked at Clara. “Tell the Major it’s our custom to dine simply, as Isa said, in the kitchen. It is entirely informal and hardly worth the effort for him to join us. Nonetheless, if he insists—”
Isa rose to her feet, sending bobbins to tapping. “Genny! I cannot believe you would sit at the same table with him. After what they did.”
How she wanted to scream, I know! And I hate them for it! I hate him! Let him rot in that little room upstairs, day after day, alone.
Instead, she attempted a smile but her lips quivered in the effort. “Isa, no one remembers better than I what they’ve done. I miss my husband each and every day. But would you offend a commissioned officer of the German army when the consequences might be worse than the task?”