Under the Moon Gate

by Marilyn Baron

  “Actually, he smells delicious and he looks divine,” Olivia inserted. “He’s just being deferential, dear.”

  “Harrumph!” the vice admiral said, sulking.

  ****

  He should ignore her, William thought, looking adoringly at Diana, and chase after some insipid, less attractive, less spectacular girl. A girl he wouldn’t regret leaving. A girl whose life he wouldn’t put in danger. Whose heart he wouldn’t mind breaking. Because, in the end, he would break her heart. He could hardly take Diana back to the Fatherland after the war and live with her happily ever after. Or live with her here in Bermuda after the Germans came into power.

  What had he been thinking? Now it was too late. He didn’t want another girl. He had developed a taste for Diana. He wanted her, even though he could barely breathe and hardly think when he was around her. And he was used to getting what he wanted—or taking it. But his feelings for her went far beyond a passing desire for a beautiful woman and crept dangerously close to raw need. She was the only one who could fill the gaping hole in his heart Emilie had occupied. He was slipping. His need for Diana went against all his better instincts.

  The daughter of a British Royal Naval officer, no, the British Naval Officer on the island, Diana was all wrong for his plans. He had known it from the moment he laid eyes on her. And yet, she was perfect. He was never going to be able to let her go.

  Luckily, she hadn’t been to Switzerland. So it was easy to play the name game with her. Not so with her father. He would want to know everything about his family, his history, his roots. So be it. He was well prepared. In fact, being married to a vice admiral’s daughter might prove helpful in the years to come and provide him easy access to the military bases and the movement of Allied convoys. Smooth the way for his associates and contacts at the Princess and make his job of providing reports to the network a lot easier. His superiors would think he had planned the whole thing. Well, let them think his stroke of luck was a stroke of brilliance.

  Hadn’t his superiors paid him the highest compliment after he had completed training when they said he blended well, wrote, even thought in English? It was all those movies he saw. Movies were a great way to perfect his English, to learn the nuances of the language. His superiors had also said they only hoped he didn’t make love in German, and call out something inappropriate that would give himself away during the throes of passion. Diana was certainly more than capable of making him lose control of his mind and his body.

  In fact, she almost had. It had happened yesterday, barely a week after they’d met. They were on the party circuit, in formal clothing, as befitted the occasion. She’d led him out to the garden, away from the lights. She’d looked…amazing.

  “Take me, William,” Diana had said breathlessly.

  “Take you where? We just got here.”

  She’d laughed slyly and gone soft and pliant against him like a pampered cat.

  “Catch up to me, William. I want you to make love with me.”

  He’d been shocked and surprised and unexpectedly aroused.

  “Darling, here, at the party?”

  “We’re quite alone in the garden. Don’t you want me?”

  What was he going to do with this mischievous vixen? She was like a pretty pink package all wrapped up in a bow, delivering herself to him, begging to be unwrapped.

  “Of course I want you,” he said and desperately meant it. She gave her love so freely, how could he possibly resist her?

  Her eyelashes fluttered and she stroked the inside of his arm lightly.

  I’ve got a hot one on my hands, don’t I,” he teased. “I don’t even think you know what you’re asking me.”

  “I do so,” she pouted. “It’s all your fault. You make me crazy, William. I can’t stop thinking about you, about what it might be like.”

  “Then we’re even. You drive me to distraction, darling Diana, you little temptress.”

  “Is it someone else?” she asked. “Was there someone else you left behind, at home? Someone you can’t forget?”

  He was blindsided by her perceptiveness.

  “There was. I can see it in your face. I knew it, and that’s why you won’t—”

  “Diana, listen, you naughty little thing,” he said lightly as he grasped her by her bare shoulders and set her aside. He realized he hadn’t thought of Emilie once the entire week since he had laid eyes on Diana, and he felt guilty. He closed his eyes. He still had the picture of Emilie emblazoned on his mind—small, delicate, dark, passionate Emilie. The longing was still there, burning like a brand in his flesh and a chronic ache in the recesses of his mind.

  “Okay. Yes. There was someone, once, a long time ago. We were young, so young.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Emilie,” he whispered, so softly that he didn’t think she’d heard him, and he wasn’t sure he’d even said the word. “It was Emilie.”

  Diana gathered her skirt and kneaded the soft material nervously.

  “Was she very beautiful?” Diana managed.

  Gott, yes, she was. His Emilie was very beautiful. They had grown up together, had been childhood sweethearts, and his past life was inextricably linked with hers. But he would not be seeing her again. And here, now, he could not afford to think about her, to be distracted from his mission. Emilie and Diana were opposites. Both dear, but utterly different women. Diana was tall and blonde and generated a fire that burned like a shooting star, all brightness and heat. His Emilie was tiny and precious and mysterious. Loving her was like dipping into a stream, so cool and dark and dangerously desirable, with a lot of layers to delve into.

  “You overshadow her, my love,” William promised. “I didn’t think I would find that happiness again with anyone, until you.”

  “Oh, William,” she sighed. She nuzzled against his neck and whispered, “Did you love her terribly?” And he could tell that she really didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “I hardly knew what love was, then.”

  “Did you and she, did you…?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead he soothed her suspicions and quieted her concerns with his sensitive hands and searching lips that plied her sensuous mouth with hot, searing kisses.

  “No more questions. You’re the one I want now, Diana.”

  Satisfied, she pulled away, hesitant to broach the subject, but…

  “William. Daddy had some papers, important ones, go missing from his study. When I came home yesterday, he asked if Mother or I’d been in there, cleaning, rearranging like Mother sometimes does. But no, we know to stay away from his study, his personal things. And he asked if you, I mean—”

  “Whether I had been there with you?” he asked in measured tones. “You didn’t tell him we were alone in the house that day they went into St. George’s, did you?”

  “Of course not,” Diana assured. “Even though we agreed not to tell my parents we were seeing each other, I did tell them we’d been together that day, but away from Hamilton, to protect you.”

  “All day,” he reminded her.

  She bit her bottom lip. “All day, most of the day, yes, but there were the hours in the afternoon when you had to go off. Remember? Where did you go, darling?”

  “Diana, what are you accusing me of?”

  “Nothing. I just want to know.”

  William frowned.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to tell you, and now you’ve gone and ruined the surprise. This isn’t the way I wanted it to be, but now I have no other choice but to come clean.”

  Diana stared at him, wide-eyed, as if she expected a dangerous confession.

  William pulled a tiny wrapped box from his jacket pocket.

  “This is for you, Diana.” He offered her the box.

  “Oh, William, for me? A present. You know how I adore presents. What is it?”

  “Why don’t you just open it and see?” he teased.

  Diana tore into the ribbon and bow and paper and opened the box eagerly. Her delight
ed eyes widened again, and her sensuous mouth flew open.

  “Oh, God, William. Is this what I think it is?”

  “What do you think it is, my sweet?”

  “The most beautiful diamond in the world. It’s so large. And sparkly. So perfect. William, can you afford this? This must have cost a king’s ransom.”

  “I suppose I could take it back to the store,” he ventured, pretending to grab for it, “if you don’t like it.”

  “No!” she screamed. “I’m never letting it or you out of my sight again. Then this is where you were yesterday?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  Diana jumped into his arms and placed hungry kisses all over his face.

  “Put it on my finger,” she said anxiously.

  “But first, Diana Smithfield Hargrave…” He got down on bended knee. “Will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?”

  “Of course I’ll marry you,” Diana said, her eyes filling with tears. “I want to give you everything. I want to be your Emilie. I want you to forget. I want—”

  He was touched.

  “I know what you want, darling Diana,” William whispered, fairly tingling with anticipation of how it would be between them. “And it’s what I want too, but I want you to come to me innocent and pure and ready. We have a lifetime to be together.” And, he remembered bitterly, that he had promised Emilie exactly the same thing right before he had loved her and left her. But he was resolved to put Emilie out of his mind. To hold on to her memory would be disloyal to Diana. William was nothing, if not loyal. He vowed to begin his new life with Diana with a clean slate and to offer himself fully to her without any ties to the past, as she was offering herself to him. It was the least he could do for the woman who had given him back his life.

  Chapter 10

  Tucker’s Town, Bermuda, 1941

  “Are you ready for me to transmit the message, Herr Kapitänleutnant?” Nighthawk asked. He waited for the order to proceed from his position in the makeshift station hidden in a secluded section of shore at the back of Marigold House.

  “Yes, but do it quickly. The sub is in position. We need to keep U-boat traffic to a minimum. Radio links have become too dangerous. We need to avoid giving away our position.”

  From his observation post Nighthawk tapped out the code with his signal light, relaying his information to the sub that had just surfaced only a short distance offshore.

  “Finished transmitting reports on anti-sub schedules for ships, and position, course, and speed of British convoys at sea. They will transmit details to Central Operations. Wait. There’s another message coming. Another shipment is ready for pickup. Shall we go now?”

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  It was a breezy night, and both men wore light jackets to ward off the wind. They did their best to fight the powerful tidal currents, navigating cautiously as their craft slipped out of the bay and into the open sea.

  “The damn coast is lit up like a Christmas tree,” Nighthawk protested, noting the floodlights flashing across the island.

  “Part of our island defense plan, which I instituted myself,” William boasted. “Seems the electricity is not operational at the exact points where our subs are located. A pity.”

  Nighthawk laughed as the crew of one of the surfaced subs began unloading its golden cargo onto their boat.

  “Haven’t you people heard of the blackout?” joked William’s old childhood friend, Kapitänleutnant Karl Krauss, calling his greeting from the bridge when he stepped out to supervise the transfer.

  “We call it our night illumination plan.” William viewed his friend’s dark blue cap and overcoat with longing. It had been a while since he’d worn the uniform, and he still missed the sight and feel of it.

  “You’re not the only sitting ducks,” Krauss joked. “German Headquarters repeats every broadcast to us at half to one hour intervals.”

  “In case the transmissions are garbled?” William asked.

  “No, just in case the British Admiralty in London didn’t get the message the first time.”

  William laughed. “Nothing changes.”

  “Not even the frequency.”

  Both men smiled at their feeble attempt at naval humor.

  “When are we going to break the British naval cipher?”

  “Probably just in time for the end of the war.”

  William slapped his friend on the back.

  “Karl, it’s great to see you again.”

  “You too,” said Krauss. “Now, my parting gift to you, for the war effort, to keep the coffers full, Wilhelm—or should I call you Island Eagle?”

  “It’s William now,” he corrected.

  “William, then. What are you going to do with all these gold reserves? Between our night drops and the gold pouring into your bank from Switzerland, you could buy your own private island.”

  “I already have,” said William, laughing. “In times of war, gold is the best currency. Who wants Reichsmarks anymore? Strong gold reserves will enable us to move when the time is right. We’ll use it to finance our agents and subversive activities in the U.S., with Bermuda as the base of operations.”

  “By the way, how is Unternehmen Seelöwe proceeding?” asked Krauss, lowering his voice to make sure he wasn’t being overheard.

  “I speak only English now,” William chided, admitting, “Not according to plan. Last year, I was informed that Hitler was postponing Directive No. 16, Operation Sea Lion, the Luftwaffe attack to destroy RAF airfields in preparation for the seaborne invasion of England, until this spring. I’ve been instructed to put all our plans on hold.”

  “The total blockade of Britain by sea and air,” Krauss confirmed. “An ambitious plan. And you are Hitler’s insurance policy—Unternehmen Teufels Insel.”

  “Operation Devil’s Island,” William translated. “He issued the Bermuda subdirective in case Operation Sea Lion fails.”

  “But we all know that the Führer is infallible,” Krauss managed to say with a straight face.

  “Precisely, and everything must be carefully coordinated,” William explained. “We must neutralize the United States before they can come to the aid of the British and resupply their allies. The British will have their hands full. Bermuda will provide a nice distraction. There is no margin for error. At my command, the lights will fall dark and the telecommunications system in Bermuda will go down.”

  “Our mutual friend sends his regards,” said Krauss. “He would like some assurances so he can report back to the Führer on your progress at their next strategy session.”

  “How is Old Whitehead?”

  Both men knew Krauss referred to Rear Admiral Wilhelm Franz Canaris, William’s longtime mentor, family friend, and former battleship commander, also known as the mysterious “Prince of Shadows.” Canaris detested Hitler, but he loved Germany and, by nature, was deeply pessimistic about the outcome of the war. He’d confided in William that he’d detected signs of madness and paranoia slithering out of the cracks of the Führer’s fractured mind. He was convinced Hitler was losing his already tenuous hold on reality.

  “He actually wanted to come himself,” said Krauss. “You know how he is. Any excuse to get out of Berlin. He told me to tell you that if Germany doesn’t hold its own in the air, then the Bermuda directive takes on even greater significance. If we strike at Bermuda now, we stop the flow of food and arms and cripple England for good. I will assure Canaris that all is in readiness, that you await his signal.”

  The wind had whipped into a frenzy, and the precipitation gave them a light soaking. An eerie grayish mist had set in and seemed to be clinging to the submarine. Visibility was so poor now, William couldn’t see two feet in front of him. He tightened his jacket in a futile attempt to stay dry. These inauspicious conditions didn’t bode well, but he was aware any mention of weather conditions on the island would be left out of Krauss’s report. Everyone knew how superstitious the Führer was and how he was governed by his be
lief in the decree of Providence.

  William tried to mask his nerves and growing sense of unease, a hint of a scowl forming on his face even before he started speaking through the strange fog.

  “The mines have been laid, explosives are in place,” reported William. “Our U-boats have surrounded the island and are on patrol and on alert. When Great Britain falls, Bermuda will automatically become the property of Germany. But Hitler prefers to err on the side of caution and disarm the island in advance. That will leave the U.S. coast defenseless when we turn our attention to America.”

  “A great deal is riding on this.”

  “When have I ever disappointed Germany?” William responded.

  Krauss seemed satisfied for the moment.

  “We may have lost the opportunity to seize the advantage, to achieve the element of surprise,” William confided. “Our network is on alert again around the island. Everything is in place, waiting for our orders to move. Any word about the timing of the operation?”

  “My sources say we will not be hasty. President Roosevelt is looking for any excuse to get his country in the war, so there will be no moves on Bermuda until it’s prudent. But as you know, we’re patrolling the island regularly. We’re ready to move as soon as the signal comes. So take care, William.”

  Krauss hesitated before speaking again.

  “You know Canaris loves you like a son, so he asked me to warn you. He knows Hitler has controls in place and that his Chief of Security Police has his own secret file on you. And they believe they have another insurance policy safely tucked away in Dresden. You know who I’m talking about, I assume? But I assured them you are now happily married to a woman in Bermuda and that there is no need to threaten old lovers.”

  Since his friend had brought the subject up, William cleared his throat and spoke, perhaps a little too anxiously in an obvious attempt to sound indifferent. He knew he would never find his way back to his beloved Emilie, but he had to know. “Krauss, any news of home?”

  Krauss debated whether to tell Wilhelm about the new development, but that would only complicate matters for his old friend and distract him from his mission.