But it wasn’t the car, lovely as she was, that started my heart pounding. Tucked under the windshield wiper was a big white envelope with our names in a familiar black scrawl. My mouth went dry as I ripped the envelope open. There was something bulky at the bottom, but it was the single sheet of paper I yanked out first. The note began with no apology, no salutation, no greeting. Of course it didn’t.
You started the process with Violette, Yank, but I had to find and see the details for myself to believe it. Lili’s name and involvement in the Alice Network were given by a former cellmate, Mlle. Tellier, who, in return for a relaxed sentence, passed the Germans five letters and a confession during the time I was being questioned by René Bordelon. Confirmed with difficulty through trial records, classified documents, and other back-room sources—but confirmed. Also confirmed: Tellier poisoned herself after the Armistice.
René lied. It wasn’t me.
You were right.
I realized I was crying like a helpless thing. But I wasn’t helpless at all. For so long I’d listened to the nasty inner voice telling me I was, that I’d failed my brother, my parents, Rose, myself. But I hadn’t failed Eve. And maybe I hadn’t failed the others as badly as I’d always thought. I’d done what I could for Rose and James—I couldn’t save them, but it wasn’t my fault they died. And I could still fix things with my parents.
As for Charlotte St. Clair, I could take care of her. She had taken the hopeless mess around her, pared away the meaningless variables, the Y’s and Z’s that didn’t matter, solved for X. She had things broken down to a very simple equation—herself plus Finn plus the Rosebud, and she knew exactly how that equation came out. Eve’s note read on:
Violette has written me. I’m on my way to France, where the two of us will visit Lili’s grave. After that, I’m going traveling. Will be back in time for the christening. In the meantime, I owe you some pearls and Finn a car.
Finn took the envelope, upending it. A tangle slid into his big hand: the keys to the Bentley, all tangled up with a string of perfect milky pearls—my pearls. I’d gone back to the pawnshop as soon as I returned to London, but my ticket had expired and they were gone. Yet here they were. I could hardly see them, the tears were dripping so fast. One last line in the note.
Call it a wedding gift.
—EVE
We brought traffic in and out of the Dorchester to a standstill. Porters, bellboys, elegantly hatted men and their white-gloved wives—everyone turned to look as the Bentley came to a halt before the hotel’s facade. She purred like a kitten and ran like a dream, and her pearl gray upholstery cradled me like a hug. Finn could hardly bear to hand the keys to the valet.
“Take her round,” he said, coming around the fenders toward the passenger side to let me out. “The missus and I are staying for lunch.”
Under the hotel awning, I saw my mother in a frilly blue dress, my father looking up and down the street. Saw my mother’s gaze linger rather appreciatively on Finn in his handsome suit, saw my father run his eyes over the superb lines of the car—and then saw their lips part in surprise as Finn handed me out in my dashing hat and French pearls.
“Maman,” I said, linking my arm through Finn’s and smiling. “Dad. I would like to introduce you to Mr. Finn Kilgore. We haven’t made it official yet”—seeing my mother’s eyes dart to my left hand—“but we’re planning on it, very soon. We’ve got a great many plans for the future, and I want you both to be part of them.”
My mother began to flutter and my father fluttered too in his more reserved way as Finn offered a hand and I made further introductions. Then as the four of us turned toward the doors of the Dorchester opening into its incredibly elegant inner court, I looked over my shoulder and saw her one last time. Rose stood under the hotel awning in a white summer dress, blond hair ruffling in the breeze. She gave me her impish look, the one I remembered so well, and she waved.
I waved back, swallowing the thickness in my throat. Smiled. And led the way inside.