Summer 1939
Sanspareil Rock Garden
Bayreuth, Germany
Allina gazed into the steel-gray eyes of Ilse Hess and prayed for her husband’s swift return.
“I’m relieved to see you out and about, Frau von Strassberg,” Ilse said.
Frau Hess was a hard woman, despite her round cheeks and overflowing bosom. Ilse and her husband, Rudolf, were confidants of Adolf Hitler. They’re his eyes and ears, Karl warned early on, and so wielded a tremendous amount of power. The viper’s words seemed kind enough, but her strident tone made Allina’s stomach sink.
In the week she’d been at Bayreuth, dozens of SS officers and their scheming wives had swarmed to every cocktail party, dinner, and social event like flies on a carcass. Allina had come to the Sanspareil Rock Garden this morning for a respite from the farce. She’d settled on a bench in the corner of the garden, hoping for the chance to enjoy a peaceful hour among nature’s wholesome creations.
No such luck. Ilse was every bit as calculating and cruel as Marga Himmler.
The older woman’s brow furrowed when Allina didn’t respond quickly enough. “Are you ill again? We were worried when you and your husband left dinner early last night. That simply isn’t something one does, my dear, when one is seated next to the Führer.”
Allina pulled herself together. “I’m truly sorry, Frau Hess. My stomach was plaguing me,” she said. “And I’m afraid the heat may be too much this morning.”
It was half past nine, but the air in the garden was steamy enough to make the sweat pool between her breasts and slide in warm trickles down her spine. Still, she’d prefer another ten degrees to ten more minutes in this creature’s presence.
“Frau Hess,” Karl called out, walking up to them. “What an unexpected pleasure. I was hunting down a cool drink for my bride.” His eyes glittered with sympathy as he handed Allina a glass of cold water.
Downing the drink slowly, Allina kept her lashes half lowered to shutter her thoughts.
Ilse Hess presented her hand with a sniff. Karl bowed over it before bestowing a gallant kiss.
“I wanted to check on your wife, of course—and to confirm you’d both join us this evening at the reception at Villa Wahnfried. Frau Wagner is excited to host and expects the Führer to attend. I’d hate to have you spoil another audience with him.”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Karl said.
“Until tonight, then.” Ilse gave a little finger wave and then returned to the group of simpering gossips in the corner of the courtyard.
At last, they were alone.
“Talk to me,” he murmured.
“Frau Hess was baiting me,” she whispered. The woman had ruled by intimidation all week. She’d been watching every move they made. “How can you stand it? So well-mannered on the surface, so … well-meaning.”
“It’s naïve to expect villains without grace,” he murmured. “The most dangerous ones hide in plain sight. We both know how many monsters are on the loose.” He took her hand. “Walk with me. There’s something I want you to see.”
They followed a winding path for perhaps a quarter mile. The walkway was bordered by tall beech trees that curved inward and blocked most of the sun’s rays, offering shade and flooding the ground with golden-green light. It was easier to breathe here as the breeze cooled the moisture from her cheeks.
They crested the hill to find a curious, ornate building topped with a large glass dome. “This building guards a beautiful secret,” he said as they ascended the steps.
In the middle of the space grew an old beech tree. Its upper branches nearly brushed the glass dome. Allina’s eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled the cool scent of the forest. When she opened them again, the tenderness in her husband’s expression stilled her.
“You’re like this tree,” he said. “Someone might look at it and think it’s imprisoned in the structure. But this tree is the centerpiece, the heart of the building.” He smiled. “Just as you’re the center of my life now.”
Allina wrapped her arms around her husband and pressed her face to his chest, listened to the steady thrum of his heart. “I love you.”
“And I, you.” Karl set his cheek on top of her head. “You’ll find the strength to continue, no matter what happens, as this tree has for hundreds of years.”
She pulled away and searched his face. “What do you mean?”
He captured the strand of hair that had escaped her chignon and tucked it behind her ear. “I want to grow old with you, until our teeth rattle around in our heads, but only a fool would fail to prepare for the worst.”
Karl was too calm. He spoke these words as if he were ordering breakfast. “You’re scaring me.”
“Forgive me.” He drew her hand to his heart. “Sir Nevile Henderson, the British ambassador, will be at Winifred Wagner’s reception tonight. I didn’t expect him at Bayreuth this year, but he’s come to seek peace with the Führer. You must meet him.”
“Why?”
“He needs to remember your face, my heart. And your name.”
She stood quietly in his arms as the truth sank in. “I won’t leave you.”
“Hush.” Karl gripped her shoulders. “You will, if it comes to that, and while I can ensure your safety, and the baby’s.”
No. Allina buried her face in his chest.
He murmured the next words in her ear, each one a soft and terrifying caress. “If Germany goes to war, we’ll have to accelerate the work. Each plan we thwart, each person we save, is an act of treason. You told me that once. You accepted the risk. Now, you must accept that I have the right to protect you. Promise me you’ll do as I ask.”
Karl wasn’t asking, of course; he was demanding. And while her husband’s voice remained calm, there was desperation in the way he held her—in the tension in his body and the tight clasp of his hands. “I promise,” she said. “I’ll do as you say.”
They left the garden hand in hand.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Allina spent an unproductive half hour in their hotel room trying to nap, and then an hour pretending to read. When she began pacing the length of the room, Karl coaxed her into its decadent claw-foot tub. He washed her hair and sponged down her sticky, swollen limbs. His sensual attention helped Allina find release. When Karl brought her to bed, she managed a few hours of dreamless sleep before she woke to his kiss. She chose the indigo silk for tonight’s festivities. Karl said it made her hair look like spun gold.
On their drive to Villa Wahnfried, Allina was completely refreshed, and certain she could carry off the rest of the evening. No, she wouldn’t let anything shake her confidence—not the Führer, nor Sir Nevile, not even rumors of war.
When they entered Winifred Wagner’s home and she came face-to-face with Gruppenführer Reinhardt Gud, Allina realized she was wrong.
His face was the same. The gray hair, the cunning silver eyes, the arrogant smile—they were all the same. He was shorter than she remembered, though, and seemed older, more than the intervening ten months should have made him. His shoulders drooped, and the elegant cut of his tuxedo couldn’t hide its bagginess. He’d lost weight, then, and hadn’t had time to take the suit to a tailor, not that the state of the man’s clothing mattered. Nothing mattered, except that she keep hold of herself and not run, shrieking, from the entryway out onto the lawn.
Gud came to them as soon as he saw her. He hurried across the marble floor of the villa’s reception hall to greet them as if doing so were the most normal thing in the world. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, my dear.” He bowed slightly and clicked his heels with precision, as an officer should. Only the curve of his mouth—that tight, knowing smirk—betrayed him.
A tremor went through her, quick as lightning, all the more brutal for its swiftness. A flash of him, of his body moving over hers in the back of his car and his rage-filled face, flew through her brain. She stepped back and bumped against Karl’s broad chest at the precise moment his arm came around her shoulders to steady her. She’d forgotten he was there; for a moment, she had been that terrified girl back in Badensburg. Thank God. She could breathe again.
“Reinhardt.” Karl’s voice was loud and sharp. A deadly crack. He kept his arm around her shoulders and turned away, effectively blocking her body from Gud’s view.
Gud was forced to retreat. “Karl,” he said, backing up and to the side. His attention shifted, warily, to her husband’s face. Gud’s eyes were smaller for a moment and his nostrils quivered, in fear, perhaps, though that might be wishful thinking.
Then the moment was gone and he turned back to her. “You’re beautiful, Allina. And blooming.” Gud pinned her again with his gaze as it roamed the length of her pregnant body, his meaning clear: I had you first.
The sharp intake of Karl’s breath made her go still. She looked at her husband, at his proud, beautiful profile, the nerve ticking in his jaw, the way he held his mouth with such precision. His face was pale against his black tuxedo jacket, and a fine sheen of perspiration appeared above his upper lip. The air around them was crackling with tension, sharp and bright enough that the whole room should have seen it, and thick with violence. Karl would kill him, right here, in the reception room of Winifred Wagner’s home, if she didn’t do something.
Allina wouldn’t give Gud the dignity of words. Instead, she took her husband’s hand and squeezed it, begging for silence while she stared the bastard down. She poured everything into the look: anger, loathing, disgust, pity, strength, and her victory over him. Gud’s eyes went wide, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, so Allina jerked her chin higher. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, nor innocent. He’d taken that from her. But she was no longer his victim. She wouldn’t back down.
It was over in less than a minute.
Gud’s face crumpled, slowly at first, as if it were imploding. First his jaw sagged, then a nerve began ticking below his right eye. He swallowed hard, throat muscles convulsing, and slowly curled and uncurled the hands at his sides. Finally, his gaze shifted to the cluster of people around them—men and women Allina hadn’t noticed at first, but ones who’d moved in swiftly, sensing a drama about to unfold.
He dipped his head, and his eyes drifted to the floor.
Gud left without a word, after bowing one more time.
The group around them seemed to heave a collective sigh. Some seemed disappointed, like dogs who had appeared at the scent of blood and then been denied their dinner.
The release of tension left Allina shaky.
Tuxedoed waitstaff were offering hors d’oeuvres and champagne to a small gathering of perhaps fifty. Karl snagged two glasses from a passing waiter and handed her one as he downed the other in a single gulp. Her debonair husband licked his lips before taking the glass from her hand and drinking it as well.
“I’m going to kill him, eventually,” he said in the same cool voice he’d used last night when making his dinner selection.
Allina dabbed the perspiration from his lip, managing to make a good job of it despite her shaking fingers. “He doesn’t matter anymore,” she murmured. This wasn’t precisely true. Her unsteadiness was testament to that. But there’d be a time in the future when it would be true, and that was enough.
“You’re magnificent,” he whispered. He cupped her cheek, and his eyes zeroed in on her mouth. For a moment she thought he’d kiss her right here, in the middle of the reception.
A sharp voice rang out from across the room. “Gruppenführer von Strassberg!”
Winifred Wagner bustled over, dressed in a floor-length black silk dress that did an exceptional job of flattering her matronly figure. Frau Wagner was a handsome woman with a strong nose and chin and an equally bold personality. She always had a smile for everyone.
Her smile was tight with panic at the moment. “Please, save me,” she said, once she’d reached them. “It seems the Führer won’t be able to make my little gathering tonight, and I need to keep Sir Nevile occupied.” She looked to Karl. “Let me introduce you. I’d be in your debt.”
Without another word, she turned and walked across the room toward a man standing alone at the bay window, leaving Karl and Allina to follow.
Sir Nevile Henderson, the British ambassador to Germany, was a tall, gaunt gentleman with a distinguished profile that reminded Allina a little bit of a greyhound’s. He had the saddest eyes she’d ever seen.
“I’m sorry, Sir Nevile,” Frau Wagner said, once they’d joined the ambassador at the window. “I’ve heard the Führer is indisposed until after tonight’s performance.”
Henderson took Winifred’s hand. “Frau Wagner, I believe you’ve done everything you can. I’m happy to enjoy your gracious hospitality.” He dipped his head. “As well as the company of your guests.”
Winifred nodded. “Then let me make my introductions. May I—”
A huge roar and boisterous cheers sounded outside, interrupting Frau Wagner’s introduction. The noise, while startling, had become common this week. It meant the Führer’s motorcade was making its way slowly through the crowds at Bayreuth.
Sir Nevile peered out the window for a few moments before turning back to Winifred. “Clearly, your Führer feels his presence does more good out there than in here. With me.”
Frau Wagner’s eyes widened. “I hope you still plan to seek him out after this evening’s performance of Das Rheingold.”
Sir Nevile bowed. “Of course.”
Frau Wagner’s smile became desperate. “Sir Nevile, may I introduce Gruppenführer Karl von Strassberg and his wife, Allina. Both are champions of our Lebensborn program.”
Karl bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
“The honor is mine,” he said in faintly accented German. Henderson’s eyes twinkled when he turned to Allina. “Frau von Strassberg, you’re in full bloom, and more beautiful than an English rose.” Taking her hand, he pressed cool, dry lips to her knuckles.
Allina felt herself flush.
Sir Nevile shifted his attention to Karl. “I’m glad to speak to you tonight. Your Reichsführer has told me about the wonders of your Lebensborn homes. I understand each devotes considerable resources to mothers and their children, and that they assist thousands of women every year. I’d like to learn more, if you have the time.”
“Of course,” Karl said. “Although my wife is the expert, not me.”
Henderson smiled at that—a genuine one that lit up his face. “I see. A woman of both brains and beauty. You’re a lucky man.”
“I am.” Karl’s arm came around her waist. “Sir Nevile, I wonder if we might also discuss a colleague of yours. A man by the name of Paul Kimball.”
The change in the ambassador was so subtle Allina almost missed it. The man’s eyes narrowed, and his chin tipped up a fraction. “Kimball? I know him well. He’s devoted his life to assisting children. Orphans, in particular.”
“So I’ve heard. We’d like to learn more about how Kimball runs his program. Perhaps you might arrange a visit for my wife,” Karl added, pulling her closer. “She’s always interested in learning new methods.” He looked into Allina’s eyes. “Aren’t you, darling?”
The determination in Karl’s gaze permitted only one answer. “Of course I am,” she said.
Sir Nevile’s eyes darkened. “I’m sure Frau von Strassberg would be welcome to visit any time. I’d be happy to help you make the connection, if need be.”
Karl offered his hand. “Thank you, sir.”
Sir Nevile took it, and they shook.
“How wonderful!” Winifred clapped her hands with glee. “You see? Germany and England aren’t so different after all. Two countries passionately devoted to the well-being of children.” She took the ambassador’s elbow, claiming his attention again. “I see the Görings have come out to join my little party tonight. They’re dying to spend some time with you. Gruppenführer von Strassberg, Frau von Strassberg, will you excuse us?”
Henderson bowed, and Winifred steered him away.
Allina sagged against her husband. “What just happened?” she whispered.
“A number of things,” Karl said as he tugged her closer to the window. “Some spoken, some not, and at least one you won’t be happy about.”
For a moment they stood, hand in hand, and gazed out across the lawn. The sun was setting and it kissed each flower in the courtyard’s manicured gardens with gold light.
“Who is Paul Kimball?” Allina asked, although her stomach knew the answer.
“A code,” he murmured. “A way to get more children to England. And you, if necessary.”
“I see.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll meet with the ambassador tomorrow before he leaves.”
Allina stayed silent until she regained control over her voice. “The Führer is avoiding Sir Nevile.”
“You picked up on that, did you?”
She decided humor was better than fear. “You shouldn’t be surprised. Sir Nevile said I have both beauty and brains.”
The look Karl gave her was searing. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“What are we going to do?” she whispered.
He brought her hand to his lips. “We’re going to enjoy the opera tonight.”