Back on my natural internal schedule, I awoke at around 5:00. Easing out from under Eva’s head, I slid off the bed as quietly and gently as possible. Her meeting with Laurent was scheduled for 9:00 which meant she could continue her night's rest. At 7:00, correspondence arrived from the foreman. We had thirty-seven livable, fully functioning apartments in the building. Wonderful news. I sent word to get them decorated and prepared for occupants. A message was prepared for the head Rabbi. I was still awaiting a reply to my last message to Fritzy. Anticipating its arrival this morning, I set aside the note to the Rabbi. Breakfast arrived at 7:30. Eva joined me for coffee, joking the smell of burnt food had woken her. God, she was beautiful; every day we spent together made the thought of leaving her more difficult.
“Dearest, please begin to sort all the items needing to be transported home. Keep anything you need access to on the train. All the extras will go separately. All the jewelry must be placed in my room so I can secure it in my personal traveling case. Have Lucile see to everything else. Eva gave me a strange look and said she would take care of it and headed for her room. I felt like I had mis stepped somewhere. Finishing my breakfast, I returned to the study to review the purchases from the trip. Father had trained me well in all manner of finance, but I did not enjoy it like he did.
An hour later, Evangeline tapped on the door. The frightened girl, not the strong woman. Preoccupied with paperwork, I had not noticed her. I thought it was Jean arrived for review. “Jean, there is further correspondence here. Also, this bill from Chanel seems incomplete. Where are the jewels that matched the gowns?”
“I sent them back,” she said, slowly approaching me.
“Oh, love, I apologize. I thought you were Jean.” I rose and came around to take her to a chair. She had been crying. I seated her, grabbed another chair, and pulled it up before her. Taking her hands in mine, I kissed each of them and held them softly. “Now, what is this? Did you return the jewelry? The pieces were designed for the dresses, my love.”
“Alexsander, you cannot spend so much money on a whore.” With that, she burst into tears. I fought back a sigh, pulled her onto my lap, and let her cry. Jean appeared at the door a few minutes later, and I waved him away. After some time, she began to relax, running out of tears. I slid my handkerchief into her hands.
“Evangeline, you are my betrothed. You are a brilliant woman. You are a businesswoman. You are a woman in service to the church and absolved. I will not hear you refer to yourself in such a way again. As to the items I am purchasing for you, as gifts, you will receive them graciously as my betrothed. You may work through your grief, my dearest, but you will not belittle yourself to me again. You are the moon herself, graceful, full of light, love, and passion. I love you, Evangeline.” I took her tear-streaked face and kissed her long and deep, gathering her in my arms. I took her to her room and sat her in a chair. “Lucile,” I called, and she appeared instantly. “Help Mademoiselle prepare for her nine o’clock appointment, please.” With that, I shut the door, went to my room, exchanged my wet shirt, tie, and coat for a fresh ensemble, and returned to the study. Jean awaited me.
“Jean,” I said gruffly.
“Sir?’ He replied, standing tall.
“Get everything I bought for my future wife back. Contact Chanel, Mellerio dits Meller, and anywhere else she returned items to in the last few days and have them brought back. Along with new receipts, forthwith.”
“I will consult Lucile to ensure we have everything, monsieur. You may count on us. Here is the correspondence you await,” Jean said with authority and handed me the message, then he excused himself and set off like a man given a special mission.
I sat back in my chair, looking at the clock. How could it only be 8:50? I heard Laurent enter. I went to greet him and brought him to the study. Eva could not possibly be put together yet.
“Jim, if I may, I have some information for Evangeline that I wish you would sit in for.” Laurent's eyes bore the look of an almost desperate man.
“Laurent, I am not certain how much more excitement Mademoiselle will be able to handle today. May I ask what the matter concerns if you do not mind?” I leaned into the desk eying him, but with a gentle look, I hoped.
“Her,” he cleared his throat, “origins, Jim.”
“Excuse me?” Origins, what did he mean by origins? She was an orphan, dumped off at the doorstep of the house. Or, more likely, a daughter of one of the ‘ladies’ there.
“Please, Jim, I feel you have become a close friend. Someone I would trust above others. I ask you to please sit beside Evangeline while I deliver some rather astounding news.” He held his canne épée so tightly his knuckles were white.
“Very well, please entertain her with lighter conversation until I can finish some urgent paperwork here. Then I will join you in her sitting room.” I stood and walked around the desk. I took his hand as he rose. “I trust you will only speak to her of things she must know.”
“She must know this, Jim, she must,” Laurent said with sorrowful passion.
A moment later, Evangeline appeared looking like nothing had ever been wrong. She swept into the room with grace, greeting Laurent and ushering him away after a peck on my cheek while apologizing for depriving me of his company. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. For good measure, I recited a Hail Mary quickly and quietly. I then returned to my desk.
After some little time, I had decoded Fritzy’s message. They were staying with our cousin, entertaining themselves in society and pretending to be interested in the good of Austria, no matter the means. Getting bodies out through Lichtenstein would be no problem if they could meet elsewhere. I opted to stay away from Graz for Fritzy’s sake and stayed north instead. They would rendezvous in Linz. They could travel through Leoben. I preferred not to risk it without me. Henry would not understand what that area meant to Franz. It is best to leave the ghosts alone for now. I coded the new message and gave them two days and a neutral location in Linz to meet the group the Rabbi had selected. Then I finished the message to the Rabbi. The Rabbi had assured me they had their own transmission codes with the head Rabbi in Vienna, and the message would go safely for now. I called for Jean, sent everything away, and said another prayer.
At 9:30 in the morning on the 24th, I found myself swallowing a double shot of schnapps and bracing myself for the next step in what was already turning out to be a very long day.
Entering the sitting room quietly, I took a seat close to Evangeline. The two of them were on about a new fashion they thought Reneé would look magnificent in. There seemed to be a plan for Laurent to arrive in Innsbruck with a trunk full of dresses and more delicate items. A betrothal present of sorts. The conversation proceeded this way for some time. As I thought about possibly excusing myself to return to the office, Laurent changed the topic. Well played, sir, I thought.
“Eva, my dear, several years ago, you inquired about the possibility of finding some information regarding your origins. I have some news. I was waiting for my next trip to Austria to discuss it with you.” He cleared his throat.
Eva refilled his cup, “Thank you, Laurent. I thought you dismissed my request or perhaps put it aside.”
“Not at all. I employed several private investigators to pursue the matter.” He put his hand up to stop her from interrupting him. “Please, Eva, you will not offer me payment. My dear, we both know I could not spend away the family's money before I die if I began today. In the beginning, I hired only one man. However, the trail warmed immediately, and I chose to add additional resources.” Laurent took his cup, relaxed into his chair, took a few sips, and set it aside. “We are fortunate in several ways, it seems. Brother Stephen took you into his heart. He sought to find your origins, which we will get to momentarily. He kept a thorough diary and all correspondence regarding you. Fortunately, he also confided in Brother Gabriel. Brother Gabriel took on his duties after his death.
The two were remarkably close when Brother Stephen was alive, and a large part of the story of your appearance in Paris lay with Gabriel. Our other fortune lies in Madame Josephine, the mistress who confided the truth to Brother Stephen. She, it seems, never intended for you to remain at La Chabanais when you were taken there.” Laurent took up his cup for a moment, hesitated, then leaned forward to continue.
“I think the best way to tell the story is from the beginning. It may come as quite a shock, my dear, and it is quite a long and winding tale. I asked your future husband to accompany me to help you through the strain of all I am about to reveal. Of course, the question is, are you quite prepared to hear who you truly are and where you came from?”
Eva visibly tensed, “If you might excuse me for a moment. Why don’t we all freshen up before you continue, Laurent.” She rose and went straight for her room.
“This is going to be quite a shock for her, Jim. If you will excuse me, I will also take advantage of the moment to freshen up” With that, Laurent rose and headed to the lavatory before I could pin him down to reveal his secret to me first.
Since that ship had sailed, I headed to my office for the bottle of schnapps and three glasses. After downing two fingers, I returned to the sitting room. My gut told me this bottle would be gone by the end of the tale he was about to tell. I set the bottle and glasses on the coffee table and went to check on Eva. She stood before her dressing room mirror, just staring. “Are you quite alright, my love?”
“Oh, Alexsander, I feel a trepidation I cannot explain. At the same time, excitement. Perhaps I do not want to know this story?” Turning, she looked into my eyes as if searching for her answer.
“Eva, you are being given a gift. A gift that will contain many things, some quite painful. When it is unwrapped, though, a day or a year from now, I believe a sense of peace will come with it.” I kissed her neck and pulled her tight. She placed her face on my chest and took a very deep breath. As one, we turned and proceeded back into her sitting room.
I poured all of us schnapps before resuming my seat. Laurent joined us just as I set the glass adjacent to his cup.
“Excellent choice, Jim,” he said, smelling the liquid and taking a small sip. “Mmm, pear, yes, lovely. If we are ready, I will continue.”
“Please, Jacques,” Eva said, setting her shoulders square and taking my hand. I scooted just a bit closer to her so our legs touched.
“Very well, I am certain you understand better than anyone, my dear, the amount of philandering that exists in the aristocratic circles in Europe. It is said that before she became his wife, quite an affair began between them. I speak of Philippe, Duke of Orleans, and his future bride Archduchess Maria of Austria. Jim, you should be familiar with them both. I believe there are ties to your family through both your parents.” I nodded in agreement, a little more interested in where this was going. “Once married, the duke made no pretense of his unwillingness to relinquish his love for the ladies, shall we say. The rumor is that within a few years, the Archduchess began seeking a declaration of nullity for her marriage from the church. Although it is a rumor, the relationship, by all accounts, did not suit either of them. He felt she should serve his, so to speak, eccentricities regardless of the flavor. She felt he should be a faithful and loving husband who kept his indiscretions more discreetly or eliminated them completely. Late in 1901, the Archduchess moved away to a family property in Tyrol.
The duke, having no country to return to, lived in exile. He therefore was forced to live in one of many Hapsburg properties in Vienna belonging to his wife’s family. The rumors said she instructed him to stay as far away from her as possible when she left him. Supposedly, the Duke was quite obsessed with her. The Archduchess did not share his feelings. Nor would she support his attempts to reclaim the throne.”
“I do not understand what either of them has to do with me, though,” Eva said anxiously.
“In time, dear, please allow me to spin the tale if you will. It has taken me years to find the many threads. I promise you; it will be worth it.” Laurent took up his schnapps to sip at it. “Much to Maria’s displeasure, she discovered she was pregnant after she arrived in Tyrol, which prompted her to relocate again to Klausen immediately. Remember, my dear, Klausen would have still been in Austria then. The reason for Klausen as her destination was Säben Abbey.” He paused for effect, but neither of us understood. “The Abbey allowed her to complete her pregnancy and leave the child in their care to raise without anyone being the wiser. It is quite common in those circles, even today, although more out of fashion. Gaining a declaration of nullity for the marriage would be significantly more difficult if the marriage had a child. Let alone the fact she would have given the duke an heir. A male heir would have been better, but a female heir can be leveraged many ways in the power game.”
White as a ghost, Eva said, “Are you saying my mother is…” She stopped, mouth wide open.
“Please, dear, I know this is difficult, but allow me to finish the story. We are truly at the beginning. The Archduchess donated quite a sum to the Abbey over the next few years. Eventually, someone caught on to the money, or at least that is my guess. Regardless, Duke Philippe found out about you. They kept it quiet, but his agent went to the Abbey. He simply told the mother superior the truth and eventually proved it to their satisfaction. They then released you to his agent. An agreement between parties was in place not to divulge anything to the heartless mother who had abandoned the child, so her payments would continue to be made to the Abbey indefinitely. Philippe’s man made arrangements to facilitate his master's orders. You would be raised in Paris with no one’s knowledge. There, you would receive your education and, hopefully, in time, assist him in reestablishing the monarchy. A residence, tutors, and a governess were all arranged. You were given the designation of Evangeline Säben after the Abbey. The agent arrived in Paris late at night. Mistakenly, a wrong turn put the carriage in a rough part of town. Bandits ambushed the carriage with the intent to rob the occupants and move on. However, something went wrong. The agent was killed, and they were going to leave you, but one man in the party told the others how much money a young girl brings to a house. They left, taking you with them. There is only the statement of one man left from that night, and it came many years later, but the understanding is they took you to La Chabanais thinking to get the most money for you there.” He set his glass down, took hold of a small leather satchel beside his chair, and undid the straps. He extracted a sizable packet of papers and several small books. Placing them on his lap, he set the satchel back down.
He took up one of the small books and opened it. “Your mistress, Madame Josephine, was tending to the matter of paying a delivery boy in the back of the house when the group arrived with you. I will save you the details, but to keep them from taking you elsewhere, she retrieved the money agreed on and paid it. The cross around your neck, manners, and clothing told her immediately you were from a convent. Knowing the thieves were lying about where you had come from, she managed to coax the story from you. The small gold cross around your neck was removed until she could get you to Brother Stephen. Sadly, and I will skip the details he wrote down, Madame Louise would have no talk of you going with the brother. When Josephine explained the situation, Louise saw only free labor and dollar signs a young girl would bring. She would not allow Josephine to turn you over. Why she was able to control Josephine, I never discovered.”
With that, he stood and brought Eva a small gold cross, placing it in her hands. He then returned to his seat. She trembled as she held it up. The cross was plain gold, simple; she clasped it to her chest. I put my arm around her, pulling her into me as she wept. Laurent averted his eyes politely.
“Perhaps a break?” I suggested.
“No, please continue, Jacques. Alexsander, please pour me a little more.” She reached for her glass, finished the contents, and handed it to me.
Laurent followed her example, as did I, and then he continued.
“Madame Josephine relayed all to Brother Stephen when he came. They were dear friends until she died. She entrusted the cross to him, hoping he would win Louise's favor and take you away. Then he could return it to you. She even provided him with the money she had paid for you so he could repurchase you. However, he was never able to win Louise over. You were simply an object to use to her benefit. Hoping to find your people, Brother Stephen began writing letters to every Abbey, convent, monastery, hermitage, friary, and Franciscan school he could find. Initially, he stayed close to Paris, branching out in a circle from there. Every week, he came to minister to those in need but primarily to beg Louise to give you up. Over the years, he thought he had found where you came from several times. Upon further correspondence, though, it would be discovered the age, hair color, and even gender were wrong, and he would go on writing to the next one. If no answer was received in a reasonable time, he would write until someone responded.
When Brother Gabriel arrived, he and Stephen developed a close friendship. Gabriel looked at Stephen as a father figure in a way. The age difference was so vast. Eventually, Brother Stephen’s prayers were answered. A letter from a sister at Säben Abbey told the story of the little girl they allowed to be taken away. They never heard another word. Many letters to her father obtained no answer. The sisters were grateful you were in the care of the brothers. Brother Stephen had not the heart to dispel their illusion and write to tell them you had run away from Paris the year prior to the letter’s arrival. No one knew where you had gone to. Stephen confided on his deathbed to Gabriel and asked him to take up the quest of trying to find you, relaying the entire story. Not long after, my investigator came looking for the Brother Stephen who visited the brothel every week. Gabriel had also taken up Brother Stephens's mission at the brothel. He found him quickly once inquiries were made. So, you see, my dear, you fled to your home. Tyrol was your home, your birthplace. When you stepped off the train, the memory of the sky, smells and mountains were imprinted on your very being from birth, hence the feeling of home.” He rose, coming to sit on the other side of her. Gently, he laid Brother Stephen’s journals and the stack of letters on her lap. Kissing her cheek, he said, “Your betrothed is exactly correct, Maria Evangeline Duchess of Orleans, when he tells you, you are the Queen of Paris.”
The clock read 10:30 in the morning, and the bottle sat empty.
Neither of us moved, waiting, giving her the space and time to process, react, laugh, cry, whatever should come after the astonishing news Laurent had voiced. She thumbed the books, looking at them in reverence. Then she peeked at the envelopes full of letters, flipping through to glance at all the addresses and placing them back in her lap with the books.
I knew a fair amount about her parents. The most relevant fact being that they were both deceased, and I felt it necessary to reveal this fact. Yet, how do you tell someone they have parents only to follow up with, ‘but they are dead’? Philippe, a philanderer, lived a life of adventure, traveling much of the world. Maria was hardly in line for sainthood and kept suiters of her own, if you believe the rumors, but faded into Hungary. With our discovery, the relocation made sense. Why stay in Tyrol if the only reason for her presence had disappeared? Another thing nagged at me. Both were fair, with light hair and blue eyes if I remember correctly, although, many years had passed, I could have easily been mistaken about the color of their eyes. Evangeline’s hair was so dark, her eyes so green, something was amiss here.
“Do you know when I was born?” Eva asked Laurent.
“Indeed, dear, just here.” He gently took a book from the stack. Turning to a marker, he handed it back to her waiting hands.
“July 16, 1902, at 5:40 in the evening. Then I am not forty.” She set the book on her lap, looking ahead as if dazed, then at each of us. “Jim, we’re the same age.” Her tone was excited but mystified. She looked down at the open book again as if to reassure herself the math was correct.
“Brother Stephen put your arrival at Le Chabanais in 1910, so you are correct about your age at arrival. I think under the duress of the attack, you may not have realized the year,” Laurent suggested.
“Darling, do you have any memories at all? Any memories of the abbey or perhaps a specific face of a woman or man?” I inquired.
She thought for a moment, “Yes, I do. They never made any sense before. I understand now that I have context. I remember studying and attending school. I remember attending mass, a few priests, or brothers, maybe. Many nuns, although a few, stand out. There was a shadow of another person, but I could not say for sure. I want to say a female, but I do not know.”
“The mother superior is still there, Eva. You may visit the abbey; she would probably be happy to see you are well. Perhaps she could share more details with you about your mother,” Laurent suggested.
“My mother, yes, perhaps that may be a good idea. I do not know. There is so much, so much to know.” Eva’s voice drifted off again.
“Laurent, will you stay for le déjeuner? I am just about to decide on the menu,” I said, standing up and moving toward my rooms. Laurent, astute as ever, caught on at once that I wished to speak with him privately.
“Of course, Jim, I would love to. Thank you for the invitation,” he said, slowly following me down the hall and into my study. I glanced at Eva as we left, but she was fixated on the book on her lap.
Once in the study, I quietly closed the door. We both let out a large breath, as if we had been holding it all along.
“My God, Laurent, why didn’t you warn me? Scheisse! The damn queen of France, are you joking, man? We cannot prove that! You cannot prove that! She cannot prove that. There is no science to prove that, not to mention they are both dead. No one will take anyone else’s word. The story has too many holes where the real child could have been switched. Not to mention the brothel. No proof the duke impregnated the Archduchess.” I paced the room to the dry bar and rifled around for another bottle of schnapps, which I promptly found, opened, and poured a generous portion of for both of us. “For the record, I believe you; the fact of it does not surprise me at all. The fact it is Evangeline, well, now that I think about it, no, it does not surprise me. So many children are floating around from unwanted trysts, unloving marriages, affairs, and games. It boggles the mind. Let me order luncheon,” I said, ringing for Jean.
“I understand, Jim. Now you understand why I enlisted your help. You will be able to support her through this in a way I cannot. Of course, we still must explain they are dead and that there will be no family reunion because she cannot prove it. She has always been such an enigma in so many ways. Even with the life she has lived, there is a regal air about her. Reneé used to joke that someday we would find out royal blood beat in those veins, and here we are.”
Jean appeared as Laurent finished. I ordered a meal for us and gave Jean the menu and a time for supper to be served. “Oh, and Jean, we need more bottles of schnapps.”
I downed the rest of my glass and went to my desk. “If you could sit with her. I will tie up these loose ends as quickly as possible. Call me when the meal arrives, and I will join you both in the dining room, Laurent, thank you,” I said and got to work.
He finished his schnapps at leisure, staring out the windows behind me, and then returned to my dearest. What a damn long day. I whispered a prayer for nothing else to transpire that required my attention or emotion, but I knew the thought to be folly. I contacted the operator to put in a call to Father. I could not explain precisely why I needed to speak with him. I wished Franz were here. Father rang back just as the meal arrived. I begged Jean to make excuses to Laurent and Eva, saying I was delayed with a business call.
I relayed the last hour's events to my father and asked his advice. First, he repeated what I already knew: it could not be proved. He inquired about Eva’s condition, my support for her, and so on. Then he surprised me by telling me a story, a story based entirely on rumor and innuendo. However, the story had teeth, and people perpetuated it at the time. It involved the Archduchess and a long-running affair with an Italian aristocrat who began frequenting the Austrian court in his teenage years. Maria held his heart but for unknown reasons, he was not considered a suitable match for her. The rumor went they had a long-running affair from their youth until she died in 1932. The count, it seemed, still lived. After her death, he left Hungary and returned to Italy. He had supposedly taken up residence somewhere around the Dolomites. He felt the rumor had merit because he knew the count quite well. The count has, or had in his younger days, black hair and the most striking green eyes, very much like a soon-to-be daughter-in-law in his own family. I almost dropped the phone. I regained my composure and asked if Father would reach out to Count Victor to check on his health and catch up. Father gave me some suggestions, bade me use great patience and compassion with Eva, and ended the call.
I sat in my chair, staring at the ceiling. My prayer to relieve the day of further turmoil and upset had fallen on deaf ears. The clock struck noon as if to mock me.
Eva must be close to breaking down. Inevitable, it was absolutely inevitable. I would suffer a breakdown given the circumstances. Anyone I knew would. How do I mitigate the worst of it? Could I mitigate it? Was that arrogant? In my younger years, arrogant was an adjective commonly used to describe me, well, all of us, really. Yes, I suppose I am still arrogant. Although, in my arrogance, I choose to believe it has lessened. I mentally laughed at myself before turning my attention back to the meal. They were both looking at me, scheisse.
“I beg your pardon,” I said, attempting to give my full attention to them both.
“Have you chosen our date of departure, Alexsander? Jacques must also make his plans if he is to accompany us.” Eva smiled politely. The corners of her eyes showed tension.
“Thank you, darling, for reminding me. Hopefully, you will not mind, Laurent, but I have secured an additional berth for you. Is tomorrow morning too inconvenient for your departure?” I asked.
“Not at all, Jim. May I express my appreciation for considering me in your plans? Tomorrow will be splendid. I anticipated your departure within the next several days. Therefore, my affairs are put in order for the foreseeable future. How exciting!” he declared, looking for all the world like a child receiving a cherished present. He lifted his glass to me in gratitude and drank his wine.
“Are you ready to return home, my dear?” I asked Eva, reaching for her hand.
“Very ready, Alexsander. The trip was wonderful, like a fairy tale. With this latest news, I find myself even more anxious to return home. The whole trip has been an event, and I would like time at home to process it.” She squeezed my hand, nodded to Laurent, and finished her wine in a salute.
After our meal, Laurent excused himself and returned to his estate to finish preparations for departure.
“Shall I come lay down with you, darling?” I asked, anticipating Eva’s desire to rest.
“Thank you, no, Alexsander. I feel nervous. I think I will help Lucile prepare things.” She kissed me on the cheek and headed to her bedroom.
I wanted Fritzy to be there; a chess game would suit me just now. The game would give me something to occupy myself temporarily. With that, I found Jean engaged in preparing my things. “Jean, where might a gentleman go for a decent chess game?” Jean perked up instantly.
“If it is not too impertinent, sir, I would be happy to engage in a game with you?” he said, a look of confidence coming over his entire presence. Ah, a fellow chess player.
“On one condition, we are to be equals during the game, understood?” I asked.
“Understood. I will retrieve the board and return shortly.” Jean left, setting a quick pace. Excellent, I removed my suit jacket, loosened my tie, and prepared a spot in the sitting room. Retrieving the bottle of Bärenjäger and two glasses, I placed them on the table in the hope that he would imbibe with me. I looked at the clock, 1:30, I sighed.
Once Jean returned with the board, time sped up. The afternoon flew by. He did indeed imbibe. The honey liquor brought a sideways look when he tasted it. To his credit, he matched me drink for drink. Jean, it turned out, was a fascinating character with quite an exciting life. We spent the afternoon spinning tales and battling for dominance of the board. In the end, I took him by one game, barely.
Supper came and went, everything was in order. I bathed, changed into my night clothes, and went to Eva’s room. Lucile had just closed the door as I strolled up.
“Oh, Monsieur, she has asked not to be disturbed, if you do not mind.” Lucile looked a little unsure as she spoke.
“Thank you, Lucile, are all of Mademoiselle's possessions taken care of?” I asked before retiring.
“Indeed, sir, everything is prepared for an early departure tomorrow morning.” She gave a slight curtsy and excused herself for the night. Lucile had done an outstanding job for Evangeline. The bonus for her and Jean lay in envelopes for me to deliver to them in the morning.
I returned to my room, going through everything one more time. Everything I had come to Paris to do was accomplished. I found a book and lay in bed reading uselessly. I disregarded every word I read as my mind ran through the day. Finally, I laid the book down in defeat. Clearing my mind, I envisioned the moon, focusing on it, seeing it cycle in and out of darkness and light, watching shadows dance across it. My mind finally accessed the mental state I had been seeking. The stars spun before me, an entire universe beckoning. The lady stood in front of me, smiling. Reaching her hand out, she took mine and led me away.
I awoke from one of my best nights of sleep in clear memory. Jean had delivered the coffee to my bedroom. I could smell it. 5:00 on the nose. I sipped my coffee while waiting for Evangeline in her sitting room. All my luggage had already been removed. Finally, she appeared. Her eyes still bore a slight redness to the rims, but it would go unnoticed by the casual observer. Her makeup deftly covered any flaws caused by what had been quite a cry. The outfit she chose complimented her. Delicate pink flowers danced across a field of white. Everything coordinated around the colors. I kissed her, and she returned my efforts but seemed almost mechanical. Still not herself. Having declined coffee, we got on with our departure. I stopped to wrap her in the white mink coat before leaving. She looked at me in surprise.
“It is still winter, after all, my love,” I said, kissing her hand.
“I thought…thank you, Alexsander, thank you.” And she turned, heading out the door.
Jean and Lucile saw us safely into the automobile. I handed them their envelopes, expressing my gratitude for their excellent service. The trip to the station went much faster so early in the morning. Traffic was light to non-existent. Jean had provided our passes that morning. Steering Eva through the station, we made our way to the train. Once on board, we found our berths quickly enough. We were lucky again with our porter. Outstanding service!
Laurent found us and insisted we join him while the rooms were prepared. I distinctly heard him giggle. Then he took us through another berth car and out to a parlor car. Procuring a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and brought us inside. The entire car was ours, with bedrooms in the back. Laughing, he toured us through the car. It belonged to his family. They designed it specifically for their needs. It housed two large bedrooms, separate lavatories, a study, and a parlor with a dining area. It even contained a small observatory above the parlor.
“All your items are being moved as we speak. I genuinely appreciated your efforts, though, Jim. Here, allow me to show you your room.” With that, he led us down to the last room in the car. “Eva, I am certain you will be comfortable here. In the summer, sitting on the back landing and watching the stars at night is quite nice. A bit chilly, I am afraid.” He steered us to the lavatory and showed us the small dry bar, closets, and other features, including a small safe.
Our porter appeared, and we exited to allow him to prepare the room. “The car will be uncoupled in Zürich and taken in by private locomotive to Innsbruck, with a stop at Feldkirch. I have taken the liberty of notifying your family of the new schedule.” Laurent toured us through his bedroom, the small kitchen-bar area, and back into the parlor. My horrible burnt breakfast would be served in half an hour. Coffee should arrive anytime. He handed me an additional key and inquired if Eva would like one. She declined, and we made ourselves at home. Staying put in one car for the whole trip is a welcome luxury. I expressed our gratitude sincerely. He had already done so much for us. Laurent became a welcome blessing in our lives.