CHAPTER 22

Starnberg

ALLINA

Allina woke again at dawn, floating up from unconsciousness to the pale blue light that filtered through the bedroom window and the soft rumble of Karl’s gentle snoring. All else was quiet in the house; outside the birds were already awake and greeting the day with soft trills and bright chirrups. She shifted in Karl’s arms to watch him sleep, his chest rising and falling evenly with every breath. His hair was bent and stuck up at odd angles, and that marble jaw was a bit less so and covered with dark blond stubble. He was beautiful.

Unfortunately, her bladder was calling. Karl had one arm still around her shoulder—guarding her, even in sleep—so it took some minutes to ease out of bed without waking him. Once Allina returned from the bathroom, she slid back under the covers and tried to fit her body against his, pressing back against his long limbs.

Karl came awake with a shout. Wild-eyed, he jolted upright, blinking once.

“Shhhh. It’s all right,” Allina said, pressing back his unruly hair.

“Mm-hmm. Good.” His eyes fluttered closed. “Let’s go back to sleep, then.” Pulling her head to his chest, he slid his fingers through her hair. He was trying to soothe, but her body responded unexpectedly. A coil of heat unwound slowly inside her, and Allina shifted closer. She set her hand on his stomach, and the muscles under his shirt tensed.

“No,” he said, grabbing her hand with a choked laugh, “no, no, no.” He pressed his lips to her wrist. “God knows I want you. But it’s too much. Too soon.”

For a moment, she looked at him. At the acceptance, the tender regret in his expression.

“I’m tired of being afraid,” Allina whispered. “I won’t be afraid of you.” Unable to say more, she leaned in and kissed him.

“Good Christ,” he muttered, though he kissed her back, softly. She whimpered and strained closer, until he ran a hand down the bodice of her dress. The touch was light as a butterfly’s wings, but her body rose up urgently to meet it. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand over his, holding it to her belly while the blood thrummed beneath her skin.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he murmured. “Look at me. Please.” So she trained her gaze on his dark eyes and flushed cheeks, the hard set of his mouth. It was maddening, because the more she saw his desire and the more she wanted him, the softer his touch became, until all her senses became focused on the harshness of his breathing, and her pebbled nipples, and how the ache deep inside intensified as she squeezed her thighs together. But he wouldn’t give her more. His teasing seemed to go on forever until finally, he urged her onto her back. Even then he was gentle. His hand roamed over her body in a long, sensual caress from her neck to the apex of her thighs.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. He kissed her again and stroked her tongue with his. He slid his hand underneath her dress and his fingers beneath her underthings to find the sensitive flesh, which he caressed until a sharp jolt of pleasure made Allina cry out. He kept kissing her and kissing her, lips and fingers working in tandem until time ceased and her body came apart in a rush of heat that made her forget everything else.

Afterward, with her body warm and weightless and her breathing returned to normal, Allina opened her eyes. Karl was watching her intently, his mouth tight with something akin to pain. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Allina was suddenly shy. “That wasn’t what I expected,” she whispered. Surely, he wanted something more from her.

He turned his face into the pillow and let out a groan. “No. No, I suppose it wasn’t.”

“Are you—do you—?” She touched a finger to his shoulder.

Karl nodded, face still buried in the pillow. I’m fine,” he muttered. His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Don’t worry about me.”

Allina’s cheeks flooded with heat. “You took the pain away,” she whispered.

He raised his head and stared at her. “I’m glad,” he murmured, before giving her a lingering kiss she felt down to her toes.

They didn’t speak much as they got ready that morning. Shy and unsure, Allina was content to wash up and rearrange her clothes and hair. Karl fixed breakfast—coffee and eggs and leftover bread he buttered for her—and held her hand during the hour’s drive to Hochland Home. He had meetings in Munich to attend, but he didn’t leave Allina until he’d unloaded the boxes of teaching materials and toured her new classroom. When he kissed her good-bye, he did so in full view of more than a dozen women in the North Courtyard.

All the Hochland Home gossips came out after that, like bees to honey, to inquire after her and wag their tongues. The giggles and sly glances were annoying, and Berta made a bitter, ridiculous comment about the dangers of mixing work and pleasure—but Allina ignored them all and went back to her classroom. She was too satisfied to worry, and concentrated on unpacking and preparing her room. She cut colorful pictures from magazines to brighten the walls, rearranged the mats and chairs a dozen times, and carted down armfuls of puzzles, blocks, and toys from that dark, depressing room on the third floor.

Even the head nurse couldn’t sour her mood. She dropped by once just before lunch, staying briefly. We’ll all just have to work a little harder, now, Ziegler muttered before she left, although the tightness around the head nurse’s mouth revealed her resentment more clearly than her words.

At lunch, Allina realized she hadn’t seen Rilla. After searching every guest parlor and both courtyards, she found Rilla in her sleeping room, sprawled on the bed and sobbing as if the world were about to end. Her swollen eyes proved she’d been crying for hours.

“Steffen wrote me,” Rilla whispered. She lifted a limp hand, offering the crumpled piece of paper it held. “He says he can’t marry me. His parents won’t give their blessing. There’s another girl, one they approve of.” Her pointed chin quivered with misery. “I’m so stupid. How didn’t I know?”

Allina hurried to the bed. “It’s all right. Everything will be fine,” she said, pulling her friend’s plump body in for a hug. Rilla was too cold, and shivering.

“I can’t go home,” Rilla cried into Allina’s neck. Her voice hitched like the child she still was in so many ways. “My parents won’t have me. They’d never let me bring Tobias. What am I going to do?”

Allina pulled away to cup Rilla’s shoulders. “You’re going to stay here and work with me,” she said without thinking, “and help me with a special group of children.”

Rilla’s sandy brows drew together. “Special children?”

Of course Rilla hadn’t a clue. Like all mothers at Hochland Home, she’d been kept in the dark. It took nearly thirty minutes for Allina to explain the condition of the children on the third floor and their plan to help them.

“So these children … the slow ones … you’re telling me Schwester Ziegler sends them away? To be experimented on? And killed?” Stunned, Rilla sat back against the headboard. She’d stopped crying, but horror had drained all color from her cheeks.

“That’s right. Hundreds of children in homes across Germany have suffered that fate.”

“And this special project will help cure them?”

“That’s our hope, yes.” Allina nodded. “No one, not even Schwester Ziegler, has tried to help these children. We went behind her back and appealed directly to the Reichsführer.”

“I knew you and Gruppenführer von Strassberg were up to something, but I’d never guessed this,” Rilla whispered. “It’s a bold move.”

Allina took her hand. “And a risky one, as we’ve got only three months to prove it can be done. But none of the other mothers can know about these children, or our rehabilitation program. I’m counting on you to keep my secret.”

Rilla’s smile spread like a sunrise across her face. “You trust me.”

“Yes, Rilla. I do,” Allina said, blinking back tears. “And you’ll be doing me a great favor if you agree to work with us. These children are counting on you. Please say yes.”

Rilla pulled Allina close, hugged her tight. “Of course I’ll help you.”

Hiring Rilla (if Allina could call it that, as all she could offer as salary was room and board) turned out to be a blind stroke of luck. Rilla threw herself into caring for the children, in much the same way Allina had when she’d accepted Schwester duty at Hochland Home. Rilla was visibly horrified when she met them the next day, as were Hans and Alexander, and it took nearly an hour for the three to wipe the shock from their faces. Only Dr. Koch seemed at ease as he examined each child, checking muscles and coordination, sight and hearing.

Fortunately, the doctor’s prognosis was good. With a little luck and consistent work, he assured them, your regimen of physical exercise and activities should achieve the desired result.

It was Rilla who became the key to the program’s initial success, because her mind operated in unexpected ways. Hans and Alexander were towers of energy who possessed the patience of Job, but Rilla helped Allina see the rehabilitation program through a child’s eyes.

Their first breakthrough came during the second week, in the middle of what should have been a simple counting exercise. Allina was trying, unsuccessfully, to teach the children their numbers. As she clapped and counted to ten, she asked the children to clap along, hoping it would help. When that didn’t work, Hans, Alexander, and Rilla joined her at the front of the classroom, modeling the right behavior. Still, the children didn’t participate. The little ones watched her as she counted, and Otto laughed now and again, but no one joined in.

Everything changed the minute Rilla began singing the numbers. And dancing. When she sang and clapped and danced at the front of the room, Otto jumped up to join her. Hobbling over on his little wobbly legs, he laughed and began hopping up and down. “Clap with me,” Rilla urged, while Allina continued counting. “Clap, Otto!”

Within a minute, he was doing exactly that. Not expertly, nor in rhythm, but he clapped. Then another child joined in. And another. By the end of the exercise, five of the children were clapping. Some were standing while others remained on the floor, and all were mostly out of rhythm, but none of that mattered. They’d made contact. It was progress. Minor, but progress nonetheless. Enough to have Allina dancing on the inside, in victory.

She moved a phonograph into the classroom the next day.