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before and brought with her. She took his breath away as he looked at her. She looked like a perfect porcelain doll as he gently began to kiss her. And as he did, with trembling fingers, she began to undress him. She had no idea what she was doing, nor what he expected of her. She had some vague notion about making love with him from things Brigitte had said to her, but she was far less sophisticated and knowledgeable than her younger sister, who had always been much more interested in what transpired, or was supposed to, between the sexes. Instead, Beata came to him with her innocence and her love for him, and as Antoine took her in his arms and began making love to her, she found passion and fulfillment that she had never even dreamed of. He was gentle and loving with her, and after he made love to her, he lay beside her on their bed and held her, tracing her exquisite form with a gentle finger. They talked for hours that night, and made love once again, and it was even better this time.

Finally, at midnight, ravenously hungry, they shared the feast that Maria had left for them. Antoine said he had never been so hungry in his life, and wearing the dressing gown Maria had given her as a wedding present, Beata giggled. They were sitting naked beneath their dressing gowns in the Zubers' kitchen. As he kissed her hungrily, Antoine dropped the dressing gown from her shoulders and admired her beauty. He couldn't believe his good fortune, nor could Beata. Nothing about their wedding night had been a disappointment. And as she gnawed happily on a chicken bone, she looked at him with a question.

“Do you suppose we made a baby tonight? I assume that's how it's done, unless there's something you haven't shown me.” She felt suddenly very grown up, after all the mysteries she had discovered, and he smiled in answer.

“We might have. Is that what you want, Beata? It's not too soon?”

“And if it is?” she asked, curious.

“If you want to wait, there are things we can do after tonight to prevent that happening too quickly.” He preferred it this way, but he didn't want to do anything to upset her. If she didn't want to get pregnant right away, he was willing to wait, if that was what she wanted. He wanted above all things to please her and make her happy for the rest of her life.

“I don't want to wait,” she said gently, leaning over to kiss him, “All I want now is your baby.”

“Then we'll see what we can do to make that happen.” They had already made a handsome effort. They cleared away the dishes, washed them, and put them away. He poured each of them a last glass of champagne, they had nearly finished the bottle by then. And when they had, he took her back to bed and made love to her again. It was the perfect wedding night for both of them. As the sun came up over the Alps, she sighed like a child and fell asleep in his arms, loving him more than she had ever dreamed.

5

ANTOINE AND BEATA'S WEDDING DAY REMAINED A MAGI-cal memory not only for them but for everyone who had seen them. Her wedding gown was talked about in the village for months. Maria helped her put it away carefully in a box filled with tissue. She pressed some of the flowers she had carried in her bouquet. And after thinking about it for several days, she decided to write to her mother and sister. She knew that Brigitte would be in Berlin by then, and she wanted to share with her how lovely her own wedding had been, and to tell her that she still loved her. She wanted to tell her mother that she was well, and was sorry that the day she left had been so dreadful, and how much she thought about her and missed her on her wedding day.

Two weeks after she'd written to them, her letters came back to her, unopened. The one to Brigitte had nothing personal written on it. It was simply sent back with a stamp on it that said “addressee unknown.” It told Beata that even while in Berlin Brigitte was not willing to defy their father. And the letter to her mother was returned with her father's meticulous penmanship on it, saying to return