For Karl, the next few days flew by in a bliss that didn’t seem possible in the midst of an enormous war. He and Millie saw the sandbagged landmarks of London, went to church with her parents, ate fish and chips in cozy pubs, and shared kisses in quiet parks. When Wednesday morning came around, it was Millie’s father who answered Karl’s knock at the flat’s door.
“Ah, Mr. Eckerstorfer, come in. I was hoping to catch you before I headed to the embassy. Perhaps you would join me in my study?”
“Of course, sir.” A bit of apprehension knotted in Karl’s stomach, but he did his best to ignore it. Mr. Stevens had been nothing but kind ever since Zurich.
Karl hung his hat and followed Mr. Stevens into a small room. Shelves full of books lined the walls, and a pair of chairs were angled near an unlit fireplace. Mr. Stevens gestured to one. “Have a seat, please. I promise to only impose on you for a few minutes before you and Millie head out again.”
“I apologize for monopolizing so much of your daughter’s holiday, sir.”
“I hear the apology, but somehow, I doubt you are very sorry.” Mr. Stevens chuckled. “Not to worry. She usually comes down on her days off. We see her most weeks. Often enough to recognize that the size of her smile has a strong correlation to how recently she’s received a letter from you.”
It would be easy for a father to make a suitor sweat, but Mr. Stevens’s posture and tone weren’t intimidating. Because of that, and because Karl didn’t want to do anything that might damage Millie’s relationship with her family, he made a conscious choice to be open with Mr. Stevens. “I’ve grown very fond of your daughter, sir.”
“I’ve suspected as much. And I know it can be difficult to form plans while a war is waging, but I’d very much like to hear your plans for after the war, Mr. Eckerstorfer.”
It was a reasonable question. “First, I want to find my missing sister. I’ve not seen her since February 1940. I’m not sure how long it will take to track her down, but I intend to do everything I can to find her. I’ll hire a detective if I have to.”
“Let’s assume you do find her. What then?”
“Education was always very important in my family. I plan to study at a university.” Given what Karl knew about Millie and what he saw in Mr. Stevens’s collection of books, he assumed education was important to the Stevens family too. “Assuming we win the war, I hope to go back to my family estate. There was always an underlying assumption that I’d run it one day, like my father did and like his father and grandfathers did.”
Mr. Stevens nodded. “And what if we don’t win the war? Or what if the peace we achieve is negotiated and Austria and Germany remain under Nazi control? Or suppose we do win the war, but you return to find your property destroyed? What then?”
Karl suspected this conversation was an informal interview to determine whether he was worthy, in Mr. Stevens’s eyes, of courting Millie. A few years ago, Karl’s prospects for marriage would have impressed just about anyone. The Lang family had been wealthy for centuries. Now Karl’s family was lost, and Falcon Point and all the treasures they had hidden from the Nazis might be lost with it. But Karl had been given a good education up until he’d abandoned it to flee his homeland. He knew the unspoken rules of the wealthy, knew how to successfully move in that world even if his income didn’t match. “Should that be the case, it might take a little longer to get my education, but I know how to work hard, sir. I don’t intend to be an ordinary seaman forever.”
Mr. Stevens gave him a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong. I recognize their importance to the war effort, but merchant seamen don’t always have the best reputation.” That was no doubt Mr. Stevens’s polite way of saying he didn’t want his daughter to be tied to an ordinary sailor.
“I’ve noticed the small regard most people pay us. And some of the men I’ve worked with drink too much and shirk their duties, but a lot of them have seen things that . . . well, a lot of them have their reasons. I’ve met a great many more of them who are good men through and through. They went to sea because they wanted adventure or because of family tradition or because they’re from poor areas and they can earn more at sea than they can from scratching out a living on a small plot of farmland. They’re doing their part in this war and paying a high price for it.”
“In the last war too.” Mr. Stevens shook his head. “Every time it looks as if we’ve found an advantage over the U-boats, something changes, and they become deadly again.” Mr. Stevens glanced at the fireplace. “What do you plan to study when the war’s over?”
“Naval architecture, I think. Or maybe business. I’ve seen a lot of things destroyed during the war. I want to build something new, and I’ve grown to love the sea. If my family’s estate is intact, I’ll have the means to work on projects from the investment end. If not, I’ll try it from the design or management end.”
“And I suppose you intend to live in Austria?”
“That depends, sir. On how the war ends and if Falcon Point is whole or destroyed and on my sister and her plans.” It also depended on Millie. Would she want to live in Austria? Or in America? Karl wasn’t ready to voice that thought to Mr. Stevens as of yet. He hadn’t even voiced it to Millie.
“And your plans for the rest of the war?”
That was another question without an easy answer. “If I stay in the Merchant Navy, I’ll soon have enough days at sea to try for my able seaman’s rating. I think I’ll do well on the exam. If the war drags on, I’ll try for an officer rating as soon as I’m eligible. I don’t want to stay stagnant, not when my parents raised me to be a leader. I’ve also been thinking a great deal about what your brother-in-law said. If the Royal Navy opened service for enemy aliens, I’d consider it. Regardless, I would like to see more of your daughter when I’m able to.”
Mr. Stevens met Karl’s eyes for an extended moment, as if trying to read his soul. “As long as Millie wants to see you, I won’t stand in your way.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Stevens rested a hand on the arm of his chair. “And am I right that you would rather spend the rest of your morning with her than with me?”
Karl wasn’t sure how to answer that, but he needn’t have worried.
Mr. Stevens chuckled. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Eckerstorfer.” He stood and shook Karl’s hand. “I believe you’ll find Millie in the drawing room.”
Mr. Stevens was right. Millie sat on the drawing room’s sofa, working on a crossword puzzle. Karl knocked on the doorframe and felt a rush of affection for her when she looked up at him and smiled. “I doubt you need any help with that, but may I join you anyway?”
She patted the spot next to her, and before long, they were discussing likely characters from Shakespearean plays and possible synonyms for weight. She had almost finished it before he’d arrived, so there weren’t many clues left for them to talk through, but he enjoyed sitting beside her and watching the way her brows furrowed when she thought and the way her lips puckered when she solved something. Just an ordinary type of activity with an extraordinary woman.
“I brought you something,” he said when the final clue was finished. He pulled a small item wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine from his pocket. The twine and the knot were neat, but the same couldn’t be said of the paper. “The wrapping . . . well, I always used to ask Ingrid to wrap things for me back before the war. I haven’t had reason to give many presents since.”
Millie took the package with care. “But it’s not my birthday or a holiday or anything special.”
“I’ve been able to spend five days in a row with you. That’s special enough to me.” Tomorrow morning, he’d have to head to Liverpool again. Back to the war. Back to the sea, with all its beauty and all its danger and all its distance from the woman who seemed to hold his heart as gently and completely as she now held the poorly wrapped package.
She pulled at the twine and unfolded the paper to reveal the compact mirror Karl had purchased that morning. Her smile grew. “It’s beautiful.” She opened it. “And it’s not cracked. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek, then ran her fingers over the scrollwork along the edges of the circle.
Karl allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. He’d played it safe, buying something he knew she needed, and it wasn’t as impressive as the jewelry his father had always bought for his mother, but Karl had purchased it with care, and Millie seemed genuinely happy with it.
“Now I wish I had something for you,” she said.
“I have a bad habit of losing everything I own, so it’s probably just as well that you don’t.” That made it sound like he was careless, but between Nazi SS colonels and Nazi torpedoes, he had lost nearly everything not once but twice. “And actually, I was hoping to take you up on that offer you made to keep something safe for me.”
“Of course.”
He pulled out the leather-bound New Testament his father had given him hours before he’d been murdered. “It’s the last thing my father gave me. I don’t want to lose it if something happens to my ship, and you said Fenny Stratford has mostly escaped the Blitz.”
Millie took the book. “I’d be happy to keep it safe. It’s a beautiful edition.”
Karl nodded. “I found a copy with less sentimental value to pack in my sea bag and study on the next voyage. Papa said it would help me find my way back if I was ever lost. I assume he meant spiritually, but I think there’s a message in there too. Look in the margins, starting on page five.”
Millie found the five letters there, then another set of five on the next page and more on the subsequent forty pages. “What do you think it’s about?”
Karl shrugged. “Maybe something about the family legacy. My father did codes in the last war. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out what it means, but I haven’t come up with a solution yet.”
“Do you mind if I have a crack at it?”
“I don’t mind at all. But today, I was hoping to take you sightseeing.”
Millie closed the book. “I’ll save this puzzle for later, then.”
She told her parents she was going out. In the entryway, she slipped her new compact into her handbag and took the old one out. “I suppose I don’t need this one anymore. Let me find a garbage can.”
“If you’re going to throw it away, I’ll take it.”
“The mirror’s broken.”
“I know, but it’s something that belonged to you.” Having her broken compact wouldn’t be at all like having Millie with him on the long night watches, but those dark hours might be a little less bitter if he could put a hand in his pocket and finger something of hers. “Is that sappy?”
She smiled and handed him the broken compact. “I think it’s sweet.”