soldier looked Genny’s way for the first time since she’d entered the room. Even slightly hunched as he was because of the crutches, the man still stood taller than Genny. He had that Aryan look about him—light hair, blue eyes, stalwart even with his obvious disability, solidly built.
“Permit me to introduce myself,” he said in perfect French. “I am Major Johann Maximilian Gottfried von Bürkel. Your son found his way into my room quite by accident, and we struck up a conversation about conditions at the front. I was merely trying to enlighten him.”
“I assure you, Major, an eleven-year-old boy has no need to know of things at the front.”
“Mother! I’m nearly twelve.”
“A boy, nonetheless, madame, who may one day see for himself.”
“I pray not,” Genny said with barely moving lips. She turned to Jonah. “Come, Jonah. I believe you’ve disturbed the Major long enough.” Then, with a hand on his shoulder, she directed him to the door.
“You will not be able to hide him behind your skirts forever, madame,” the Major said, but he spoke to her back, since she was already halfway out the door.
Genny ignored the horrid words but took one last glance as she left the room. To her mortification she saw his gaze scrutinize her, resting at her feet, one clad in nothing but a silk stocking. She tried to keep her footing even as she slipped from the room, hoping she was out of his line of vision before that gaze could return to her heated face.
“Jonah, you are to stay away from that man.”
“Suits me,” he said. “He was full of himself, trying to prove he was so much better, even with only one leg.”
“What did he do?”
“He had the books on his back and kept other books on his head, as if it were nothing even with those crutches.”
She might have dwelt on the image of someone so disabled doing such a thing, but Genny heard her name called by a frustrated Isa.
“Go downstairs, Jonah,” Genny said to her son. “Clara is going to show you where the school is, and I’ll be taking you there tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow already? Can’t it wait until next week?”
“No. Go along now. Wait for Clara downstairs, and she’ll tell you about it; she’s been tending children from this neighborhood for years now.”
Genny and Clara found their way to Isa, who stood in the center of her room. Her damp hair was pinned atop her head, and the fragrant scent of honeysuckle and lavender wafted from the adjoining bathroom. She stood with her arms outstretched at each side, looking down at herself with nothing short of disgust. Her feet were shod in soft leather slippers that were clearly too small, and the dress she wore—a disaster.
It was a lovely gown of silk, damask, and mousseline de soie, in a dark shade of forest green, perhaps the darkest gown she, too, could find. But her feet were in plain view, her arms barely covered by sleeves that reached a rather odd length somewhere between her wrist and elbow. The bodice was askew, and when she turned around to display the full extent of the miserable fit, it became clear that those buttons would never close while Isa’s body was inside.
“Every one I’ve tried is worse than this,” she exclaimed. “How can that be? It’s been just two years! I feel like Alice through the looking glass. Or Gulliver in Lilliput.”
Genny cocked her head with a rueful smile. “Two years of significant growth, evidently.” She stepped closer, lifting the material to see if there was any give in the bodice area. “Clara,” she said over her shoulder, “would you get that purple day dress, the one I was going to try next?”
“Not my mother’s—and purple! I don’t think I should wear any color with Belgium overrun.”
“It will be better than this.” Genny nodded encouragingly to Clara, who quickly disappeared to follow orders. “And it’s a dark purple, almost black.”
Isa flopped to the divan near her wardrobe and reached out to stroke one of the gowns still hanging within. “I was so happy to see them all.” She expelled a long breath. “Oh, well, I couldn’t have worn the majority anyway, they’re so festive.” Then she suddenly laughed.
“All right, let me in on the secret.”
“Only that I shouldn’t have been surprised Edward always thought of me as a child. I guess while I was gone, my body caught up with the rest of me.” She looked at Genny with raised brows.