LoveMakers

by Gould, Judith

  'Really, Cardinal Corsini, the Treaty of Conciliation between Cardinal Gasparri and Premier Mussolini. . . '

  'Isn't Paris in the spring just like Buenos Aires in the winter . . . '

  'The effects of the Hawley-Smoot Tariff on world trade . . . '

  'No, the Weimar Republic and President Hindenburg.. . '

  'Prince Luigi, as an aviator . . . '

  'But despite the Depression, the Empire State Building is nearly completed, isn't it. . . '

  'My dear, dear Mrs. Reichenbach, if you only . . . '

  'Germany will not permit herself to be shackled . . . '

  The various statements rippled and rose in intensity around the table, punctuated by the clinking of crystal and china, and the scraping of silverware. Charlotte-Anne felt out of her league, possibly because she wasn't paying attention. She was too busy concentrating on one thing and one thing only - trying to avoid Prince Luigi di Fontanesi's attention.

  'And what do you think, Mademoiselle Hale?'

  Charlotte-Anne started and turned to her right. The voice belonged to the captain. She'd totally missed his question. And somehow, during it all, the plates had been switched. She hadn't even noticed the whole, spiny lobster, red shell stuffed with crabmeat that was now sitting before her.

  'I'm sorry, captain,' she said apologetically. 'I wasn't paying attention to anything but the food. It looks so . . . so extravagant.'

  'And a smart young lady you are.' General Kersten boomed from across the table. 'In my country, work and politics are for the men, and the kitchen and the bedroom are for women. More women should feel the way you do.'

  Charlotte-Anne was too shocked to speak before Mrs. Reichenbach said, 'Indeed. I'll have you know, General, that many women are as accomplished as men, and some even more so. History will bear me out. Every year, more and more women are making gains, both politically and professionally.'

  'With all due respect, Mrs. Reichenbach,' the general said, laughing, 'you disagree that giving birth to, and caring for children, are not a woman's commitment?'

  'I said nothing of the sort,' Mrs. Reichenbach retorted. 'All I'm saying is that one must have an open mind. One should strive not to nurture preconceived notions about men and women's roles.'

  'I think Mrs. Reichenbach has a point,' Robyn put in. She placed her elbows on the table, leaned forward, and gestured to Charlotte-Anne. 'Miss Hale's mother is a businesswoman. She started by building one tourist court in Texas, and she now owns a chain of tourist courts and hotels. She is doing extremely well, and continuing to expand. And, I might add, she has four children she has been raising herself, without the benefit of a husband. As a widow - '

  'Ach,' the general said irritably, cutting her off and waving away Elizabeth-Anne's accomplishments with a flick of his hands. 'An individual! Life is not for the individual.'

  'And who, pray tell, is life for?' Mrs. Reichenbach asked indignantly.

  'The masses, of course. One cannot judge all women by one remarkable woman, especially a successful one. Name me other women who can match men point for point.'

  'Amelia Earhart.' The soft voice belonged to Luigi di Fontanesi.

  Surprised, Charlotte-Anne turned to him without thinking. For once, he was not gazing at her, but had locked eyes with General Kersten.

  'Ach, Fraulein Earhart!' The general laughed. 'So the intrepid Fraulein Earhart and two other fliers flew from . . . well, across the Atlantic, at any rate.'

  'Newfoundland to Wales, in 1928,' Prince Luigi said quietly.

  'See?' the general intoned. He smiled tolerantly at Robyn and Mrs. Reichenbach. 'But did not your Charles Lindbergh fly from New York to Paris in . . . in . . . ' He looked at Luigi.

  '1927,' the prince said softly.

  'You see! His transatlantic flight took place one entire year earlier than Fraulein Earhart's,' General Kersten said with smug triumph. 'And he flew without a crew. Fraulein Earhart would do well to stay at home and have children.'

  'General,' Luigi said easily, 'I myself have on two different occasions tried to fly the Atlantic. Once solo, and once with a crew of two, just like Miss Earhart. Twice, I was forced to turn back. If I could not accomplish something that a woman could, does this speak ill of me as a man, or well of her as an aviator?'

  'Surely, my, dear prince, accidents of fate occur every now and then. I would not let Fraulein Earhart get the better of me simply because she managed a flight when you could not. There are always extenuating circumstances.'

  'But you agree, then, that Mr. Lindbergh, and not I, is the better pilot?'

  'Well, perhaps,' the general said uncomfortably.

  'And if Mr. Lindbergh is the better flier, because he accomplished what I could not, then do you not think that Miss Earhart might be, also? For exactly the same reason?'

  'As I said before,' the general answered heatedly, 'accidents of fate occur. I stand by what I have said before. Men are born leaders. The American, Herr Lindbergh, has proven that. But, in the coming years, even the Americans will be outdone. By the Germans. My government will see to that. On land, in the air, and on the sea. All you have to do is look at what is happening around the world. India, once the backbone of the British Empire, is boycotting British goods and rejecting the idea of taxes without representation. England is weakening by the day. America has slipped back into the lull of isolationism, licking her wounds. One by one, the major powers are getting weaker. But one day soon, Germany will prove herself more powerful than ever before. We will be a nation to be reckoned with.'

  'I see,' Chief Justice Goode said drily. 'Then you are privy to more information than any of us. It was my opinion that Germany is weak. The Weimar Republic has difficulty keeping up with its reparation payments. How do you suggest that Germany will increase in strength when multitudes of her people cannot even buy bread?'

  'And whose fault is that?' The general's face grew even more red. 'Germany is being sucked dry by her enemies,' he hissed, leaning across the table with fiery eyes. 'But we Germans will not stand for it much longer. The French,' he said, smiling at Captain Louvard, 'and with all due respect, the British also,' he added, nodding apologetically at the Duke and Duchess, 'everyone in Europe and America has ganged up on the Fatherland. But time will tell.' He clenched his hand into a fist. 'I know one thing. Germany will not always be weak.'

  'Perhaps you know that, General,' Ambassador Perez said, 'but I happen to know that the evening is young, the dinner marvelous, the wines excellent, and the ladies exceptionally beautiful. I propose - '

  But once started, the general was not about to give up graciously in mid-stream. 'The Fatherland is like the proverbial phoenix,' he cut in forcefully. 'Germany will rise out of the ashes stronger than ever, her peoples united as one. It will not be long now. President Hindenburg's days are numbered. A new man named Adolf Hitler has growing support - '

  Mrs. Reichenbach laughed lightly. 'I've heard of your Adolf Hitler, and his Beer Hall Putsch - '

  'Herr Hitler was premature, that was the problem. When the phoenix that is Germany finally rises again, things will change.' General Kersten nodded ominously. 'You shall see. And the stranglehold the Jews have on us - ' There was a sudden clatter as Mrs. Reichenbach's fork dropped onto her plate. 'Begging your pardon, General Kersten, I, for one, am Jewish. And let me assure you - '

  'As I have said before,' Ambassador Perez broke in, 'the evening is too young and beautiful for us to talk politics.'

  'The ambassador is quite right,' Captain Louvard added quickly.

  'And you,' a voice said softly from Charlotte-Anne's left, 'have not yet eaten a bite of your two courses. Perhaps that is what makes you the most beautiful woman aboard?'

  Charlotte-Anne colored as she met Luigi di Fontanesi's predatory gaze.

  'I would be honored,' he said, 'if after dinner, you would accompany me to the ballroom.'

  'I'm . . . sorry.' Charlotte-Anne tore her eyes away from his and stared at her lobster. 'But I'm otherwise engaged
,' she murmured. 'I have made plans.'

  'Then change them.'

  'But they're very important.' She was still frightened of him, yet fascinated by the way he had stood up for women and Amelia Earhart. She couldn't shake the feeling that he had sparred with General Kersten only for her benefit. Or was that merely her ego?

  Robyn leaned forward and smiled. 'Oh, but my dear,' she said cunningly. 'Of course I won't mind if you change our plans. I wouldn't dream of holding you to them. Besides, there's something else I am simply dying to do. Like win back my past poker losses from Mrs. Reichenbach. You and the prince go ahead and dance.'

  Charlotte-Anne felt her stomach shriveling into a tight, nervous chestnut. She cursed Robyn's fine-tuned hearing. Did nothing escape her? And what did she think she was trying to do, anyway? Play matchmaker between her and the one person who frightened her more than anyone else she had ever met?

  Charlotte-Anne didn't want to dance. Not with anyone, and especially not with the prince. Besides, she didn't know how.

  She did not dare look at Luigi. 'I'm afraid my dancing is awful, Your Grace,' she murmured more to her lobster than to him.

  He laughed suddenly. 'I can tell that you Americans are truly democratic. However, the Duke and Duchess are 'Your Grace.' I am simply 'Your Highness.' '

  She blushed again, aware that every eye at the table was on her.

  'However,' he continued, 'I would be honored if you exercised your democratic prerogative and called me 'Luigi.' '

  She turned slowly to him.

  'And as for your dancing, which you are afraid is not very good; believe me when I say that mine is excellent. No one can dance terribly when they dance with me. I know how to lead.'

  'In that case,' Robyn said lightly, 'I'm sure that Miss Hale would not only be honored, but she, too, would like to extend to you the courtesy of being called by her first name. Wouldn't you, dear?'

  Whether Robyn's statement was a comment or a rebuke, Charlotte-Anne did not know. In either case, it left her with no choice but to go dance with Luigi di Fontanesi. Charlotte-Anne lifted her chin and stared straight into Luigi's dark, smoked-glass eyes. 'In that case,' she said in a trembling voice, 'I suppose I must thank you, and accept.'

  Even as she said these reluctant words, her heart gave an excited leap. Which, when she considered it, was not at all unpleasant.

  He escorted her by the arm to the Grand Salon, where the etched-glass windows soared to a height of more than seven yards. Already, the ballroom was a sea of floating couples. Above the elegant strains of the waltz in progress she could hear other, more muted sounds: the swishes of silks, the rustles of satins and taffetas, the whisper of velvets. Couples danced across the shiny parquet floor like graceful, miniature music box dancers captured inside the massive jewel box of the ballroom.

  He led her to the edge of the dance floor, conscious of her nervousness. She smiled stiffly, but the effort was fading fast, and her heart was sinking rapidly. Luigi had promised to lead her, had assured her that she would dance beautifully. But now, faced with the effortlessly graceful dancers surrounding her, she wasn't quite so sure it would be possible. Every woman present was letting her gentleman guide her, but they were also dancing. She felt miserable and foolish. She was certain that she would make a spectacle of herself.

  She found herself yearning for L'Ecole Catroux. Why couldn't she have already attended the school and have gained the polish so necessary to a young lady? Why had she been thrust into the midst of all this luxury while she was still so unprepared for it?

  She looked at Luigi, and the breath caught in her throat. He was gazing out at the dance floor, his eyes searching for an opening, his face in glorious profile. It was a classic Roman face carved from alabaster, the nose perfect and strong, exactly like Michelangelo's David, the chin determined, the lips curved and jutting sensuously, the black hair gleaming and combed slickly back. He was a Roman marble come to life, sinuous and powerful, his face and body a reminder of his heritage. He was the perfect image of the languid playboy, but any vapidness about him was dispelled by the high cheekbones and the two strong, almost cruel lines running from his nose down to the corners of his mouth.

  He turned to her, his face coming into full view, and again she caught her breath. He bowed, a mere forward motion of his head, and then she felt his hands slip onto the small of her back, sending ripples up and down her spine. He touched her other hand, enfolded her gently, like a most precious flower, and then began to move, sweeping her onto the dance floor. She gazed down at someone else's feet and tried to imitate the steps. She stumbled and he caught her, drawing her closer.

  'No, no,' he said, his breath a whisper. He began twirling her slowly, gracefully. 'Do not look down. Do not try to do anything. Only move along with me. Like this. See . . . It is not so difficult. Do not concentrate on it . . . Now you are doing fine.'

  She nodded, her mind reeling as she felt the heat of his lithe body, the crackling electricity of his touch. She looked up into his face and let herself go. Before she even realized what was happening, he was sweeping her around the dance floor, his every move perfect, leading her so exquisitely that it appeared that she was as proficient a dancer as he. The strains of the waltz were a soft, muted pulse, seemingly tailored to their every move.

  He gazed down at her, his lips curved into a smile. 'You dance beautifully,' he said softly.

  'Do I now?' She smiled crookedly and cocked her head; ' I thought you told me it would be because you lead so well.'

  'Ah, but I am, am I not?'

  'Are you always this sure of yourself?'

  'Almost always. I have a way with beautiful women.' His eyes flashed mischievously. 'Or so they tell me.'

  'I see. And what if I told you that I have a way with handsome men?'

  He grinned at her. 'Then I might believe you. After all, you attracted me, did you not?'

  'Did I -'

  'What do you think?'

  'I think you're very cunning,' she said. 'It was you who watched me throughout dinner, trying to make me uncomfortable - '

  'Now you are the one who is being cunning.'

  She simultaneously blushed and glared at him, but they continued waltzing without missing a step.

  'And you look even more beautiful when you are angry,' he smiled. 'When your eyes flash brilliantly.'

  She looked away from him. The massive salon moved around them like a merry-go-round, and the other couples swished and laughed softly . . . exchanged secrets. Women gazed at Luigi longingly, and eyed her enviously. She caught sight of Robyn dancing in the arms of Ambassador Perez, smiling that knowing little smile of hers. So Robyn wasn't playing poker with Mrs. Reichenbach, she thought. It had been a trick to get her and Luigi together. But she couldn't think about it for long. The waltz stopped with a flourish, the figures on the dance floor stood frozen for an instant, with only the ladies' gowns still swaying. Then everyone clapped politely.

  Another waltz began. Before she knew it, Luigi was spiriting her around even more effortlessly than before.

  'Ah, so the fire has finally died in your eyes,' he said at long last. 'Then you are no longer angry with me.'

  She was silent.

  'Are you going to stay in Europe long?' he asked.

  Despite herself, she had to gaze back up at him. There was something magnetic about him which drew her. 'I don't know. Six months at least. Longer perhaps.'

  'I wish it were for a very long time.'

  She didn't speak.

  'Perhaps forever?'

  'Don't,' she begged in a whisper. 'Don't talk like that.'

  'You are uncomfortable?'

  She nodded.

  'Then I will change the subject.' He paused. 'This is your first trip to Europe?'

  She nodded again.

  'You are on what the Americans call 'The Grand Tour'?'

  'No. I'm going to Switzerland. To finishing school.'

  'Then you are very young.'

  Startled,
she gazed at him. His voice had been one of surprise.

  He frowned. 'How old are you?'

  She sighed. 'Does it matter?'

  'Sometimes it does. I do not wish to rob the cradle.'

  She laughed, remembering how earlier that evening Robyn had said the very same thing about him.

  'Is something funny? He looked hurt.

  'No. I'm sorry. It was just your choice of expression.'

  'Then my vernacular? It is wrong? If so, you must tell me.'

  'No, it's correct.' She struggled to look more serious. 'But I'm not exactly still in the cradle.'

  'That much I am very aware of.' His gaze burned deep into her, flooding her body with shocking warmth. He pressed her closer to him, and she felt the tightening of his hands, the heat of his legs through her diaphanous chiffon, and the hard strength of his manhood. 'I think,' he said in a whisper, 'that I am in love with you.'

  Now her step faltered, but he caught her, swirled her on.

  'Do you say that to all the women you meet?' she asked with a tinge of bitterness.

  'No.'

  'Then why to me?'

  'Because you are young and beautiful. There is a fresh innocence about you which is lacking in most women.'

  'Is that what you think?' She looked up at him in a childlike way, her hands light, as thought she were about to extricate herself.

  'Aren't you innocent?' he prodded gently. 'Or am I wrong?'

  'You . . . frighten me.'

  'Why?' he asked. 'Because you have heard something about me? Because I have a . . . a rather tarnished reputation?'

  She met his eyes. 'Don't you?'

  His face was devoid of expression. 'I am afraid I do.'

  She nodded. 'That is part of what frightens me. The rest is . . . well, your title. Your self-assurance. And you are probably the most handsome man - ' Damn! She bit down on her lip. Why had she let something foolish like that slip out? Now she felt like a schoolgirl.

  'Physical attractiveness can be a millstone around anyone's neck,' he said. 'You should know that. You yourself are extraordinarily beautiful. Surely you have noticed that beauty hampers?