“Oh, Edward.” His mother’s brows drew together. “Not in broad daylight?”
“Nighttime would draw too much suspicion, particularly from the Major himself. As they say, the best place to hide is under the nose of the Polizei. What time is this dinner to begin?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“How many?”
“Two, that we know of,” Genny answered. “Besides the Major, of course.”
Isa touched his hand again, drawing his attention from the plans swirling through his mind. “But, Edward, you do understand that it’s not only the Major who will be sharing this dinner? Your mother and I will be required to sit at the table as well.”
One of his ears started ringing; he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “What was that?”
Now his mother touched his other hand, and both of his ears began ringing. “Yes, Isa and I will be expressing our gratitude for Jonah’s return.”
His fingertips tingled with a rush of adrenaline, all he would need to thrust a fist into a wall or at a face. A German face. If only he could. “Who are his guests?”
“Herr Lutz and Hauptmann von Eckhart.”
The Hauptmann’s name defined which German face Edward most wanted to assault. He glanced at Isa. “Why von Eckhart?”
“It was he who sent the note arranging everything.”
Edward had a fair estimation of why. Blast it all, why had she ever come back? “That leaves me with one option. Mother, best tell the Major that your nephew Father Antoine would like to join the party.”
Then he turned toward the door. He didn’t have time to spare if he was to set their plans in motion.
19
Rumor has it the Germans will stop the revictualing. Let them! And see what hunger in the bellies of already-oppressed Belgians will drive other countries to do in our defense. Keep heart.
La Libre Belgique
* * *
Isa glanced at the timepiece on her vanity. Nearly ten o’clock in the morning. She studied her reflection, marginally satisfied with what she saw: light hair pinned in a loose knot, a few tendrils tickling her neck, exposed by the wide, box-cut neckline of her gown. It was a burgundy day dress, trimmed close at the waist. She and Genny had decided to take special care with their appearance this morning—anything to divert unwanted attention from the delivery.
Swallowing the jittery burst of nerves that threatened to wreak havoc on her insides, she retrieved her flute and brought it to the music room just down the hall.
She stopped, as usual, near the Major’s room to listen for any sound. The rhythm of labored breathing came through, something she often heard when he exercised. She’d caught a glimpse of him once when his nurse was there with the door open. He’d been on the floor with one hand behind his back as if counterbalancing the foot that was missing while he pushed himself up, then down, over and again. She guessed he was doing that now.
Isa found Genny in the kitchen with Henri.
“Good morning,” Isa said, instantly noticing Genny’s flattering gown, another Isa didn’t recall her mother ever wearing. It was midnight blue, with a high collar and long sleeves, yet its modesty and simplicity of cut complemented her femininity and grace. Her hair, like Isa’s, was up, braided and twisted at the back.
However, the entire look was compromised by her frown. “What is it?”
“It’s Clara.”
“What’s wrong?”
“She isn’t here. Her sister is ill, and Clara left to tend her.”
The nerves inside Isa zeroed in on her stomach. “What?”
“She promised to be back in time to cook.”
Isa spun around, looking out the kitchen window. “Who cares about that? Those Germans can send a cook along with all their goods; I don’t care. Or cook it themselves! It’s the delivery I’m worried about. We need her to watch for the sentries.” Nothing could go wrong today. Nothing!
“I suppose we should have warned her instead of waiting until the last moment. Besides, she was bound to wonder about all of this. Perhaps it’s best she isn’t here at all. The less she knows, the better. I will sit alone with the Major. He’ll stay for a piano performance without the flute. It’s still music, isn’t it?”
Isa took a deep breath. “All right.” Then she caught Henri’s concerned look.
He neared them, gesturing toward Isa to pray. Suddenly he seemed more concerned over her behavior than Clara’s absence.
“He’s absolutely right,” Genny said. “It’s a good reminder for both of us. We’ll pray our way through this day, Isa.”
Isa nodded and another quiver shot through her, this time of