Echoes Page 0,5

expect me to blame you for the war?” he asked gently, smiling at her. She was a young girl, and incredibly pretty. He thought her truly beautiful, and as he spoke to her, he was touched by her apologetic expression. She seemed like a remarkable young woman, and he was suddenly glad he had nearly knocked her over. “Did you do this? Is this dreadful war your fault, mademoiselle? Should I be angry at you?” he teased her, and she laughed along with him.

“I hope not,” she said, smiling. “Are you in the army?” she inquired. He had mentioned being on leave.

“In the cavalry. I attended the equestrian academy called Saumur.” Beata knew it was where all the aristocrats became officers of the cavalry, which was a most prestigious unit.

“That must be interesting.” She liked horses and had ridden a lot as a young girl. She loved riding with her brothers, particularly Ulm. Horst always went wild and drove his horses into a frenzy, which in turn spooked hers. “My brothers are in the army, too.”

He looked at her pensively for a long moment, lost in her blue eyes, which were darker than his own. He had never seen hair as dark contrasted by skin as white. She looked like a painting sitting there on the bench. “Wouldn't it be nice if troubles between nations could be resolved as simply as this, two people sitting on a bench on a summer afternoon, looking out at a lake. We could talk things out, and agree, instead of the way things are, with young men dying on battlefields.” What he said made her knit her brows again, he had reminded her of how vulnerable her brothers were.

“It would be nice. My older brother thinks it will be over soon.”

“I wish I could agree,” he said politely. “I fear that once you put weapons in men's hands, they don't let go of them easily. I think this could go on for years.”

“I hope you're wrong,” she said quietly.

“So do I,” and then he looked embarrassed again. “I've been incredibly rude. I am Antoine de Vallerand.” He stood up, bowed, and sat down again. And she smiled as he did.

“I am Beata Wittgenstein.” She pronounced the W like a V.

“How is it that you speak such perfect French?” he asked. “Your French is almost flawless, without any accent. In fact, you sound Parisian.” He would never have guessed she was German. He was fascinated by her, and it never occurred to him, even once he heard her name, that she was Jewish. Unlike most people of his ilk and milieu, it made no difference to him. He never gave it a thought. All he saw in her was a beautiful intelligent young woman.

“I learned French in school.” She smiled at him.

“No, you didn't, or if you did, you are far more clever than I. I learned English in school, or so they say, and I can't speak a word. And my German is absolutely terrible. I don't have your gift. Most French people don't. We speak French and not much else. We assume the whole world will learn French so they can speak to us, and how fortunate that you did. Do you speak English, too?” He somehow suspected that she did. Although they didn't know each other, and he could tell that she was shy, she looked extremely bright and surprisingly at ease. She was amazed herself by how comfortable she was with him. Even though he was a stranger, she felt safe with him.

“I speak English,” she admitted, “though not as well as French.”

“Do you go to school?” She looked young to him. He was thirty-two, twelve years older than she.

“No. Not anymore. I finished,” she answered shyly. “But I read a great deal. I would have liked to go to university, but my father wouldn't let me.”

“Why not?” he asked, and then caught himself with a smile. “He thinks you should get married and have babies. You don't need to go to university. Am I correct?”

“Yes, completely.” She beamed at him.

“And you don't want to get married?” He was beginning to remind her more and more of Ulm. She felt as though she and Antoine were old friends, and he seemed to feel equally at ease with her. She felt able to be completely honest with him, which was rare for her. She was usually extremely shy with men.

“I don't want to get married unless I fall in love with someone,”