Aubrielle took his hand. “Je t'aime, Papa.”
His bent and trembling fingers stroked her hair. “Je t'aime, ma fille.”
Aubrielle sniffed and wiped her face. “You should get in your bath. The water will grow cold.”
He bobbed his head once and laid the bath towel from his shoulders on the counter. “Merci.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” Aubrielle closed the door and covered her mouth. As swiftly as she could, she walked down the hall to her room, threw herself on her bed, and cried. How cruel for Papa to know, in moments of clarity, how much he had lost. She gulped air and buried her face in her pillow to hide the sound of her tears.
When the rush of emotion had passed, she stood and inspected her reflection in the vanity. “Merde!”
Once in the kitchen, she could hear the occasional splash from the washroom. She dampened a dish towel with cool water, tipped her head back and laid the cloth across her eyes.
The jingle of keys against the back door caused her to lower her chin and open her eyes. The towel dropped into her hands.
Mae came in with a bag of groceries. She set the foodstuffs, along with her keys, on the counter and looked with concern at Aubrielle. “What’s amiss, lass?”
Aubrielle shook her head. “Nothing.” She shrugged. “Papa.” She wiped her face and summoned a smile for Mae. “I’m surprised to see you this morning.”
“Ah well.” Mae unloaded her bag. “Antoine is back and feeling much better.” She handed Aubrielle a brick of cheese and a wrapped package of sliced meat from the butcher. “Slice a bit of the cheese and put the rest in the box, would you dear?”
When the groceries were put away, Mae folded the bag and examined Aubrielle. “I can see you need a break.” She set a loaf of bread on the cutting board and pulled the bread knife from the drawer.
“I can’t.” A heavy sigh escaped her throat. “Both Papa and I have laundry.”
Mae made angled cuts in the loaf. “I have a laundry woman coming on Wednesday. She can do both.”
“No, Tante Mae—”
“I won’t hear an argument.” Mae placed a piece of cheese on the bread and handed it to Aubrielle. “You’ve been inside for four straight days. You need to get out. Even when I’m here every day, I go home at night.” She stacked cheese on a slice of bread for herself. “You need a break, and the snow has melted. Take a walk in the park.”
“I need to shop for Hanukkah,” Aubrielle admitted. “I have a bit of money set aside. I hope it will be enough.” She took a bite of Mae’s treat.
“Don’t worry about money for your candles and such. I’m looking forward to your Hanukkah holiday, and besides, you’ll be working for me soon enough, selling in the park.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“For both you and your Papa. When Lou finishes, wash up and get ready.” She winked at Aubrielle. “Perhaps one of your young men would like to go with you.”
“My young men?” Aubrielle’s face warmed at Mae’s teasing. “I’ve turned John away every day this week. He’s bound to have given up on me.” She picked up a piece of cheese. “And Henri only comes to the house when he knows you’ll be cooking.”
Mae raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
Aubrielle covered her grin with her fingers and hurried to her room. Her limited wardrobe left her few choices, but she settled on a warm wool blue dress. When her clothes and undergarments lay ready on her bed, she turned to her vanity. Unbidden, her attention fell on the small box her father had given her. The Star of David—the necklace her mother had never worn. With sure hands, she removed the silver cross from her neck and withdrew the delicate golden chain from the small red box. The six-pointed star of gold caught the light and shimmered at her throat.
I’ll wear it for Papa.
* * *
John slid the straight razor down his chin one last time then turned his head to view the other side of his face in the mirror. Done. He rinsed the blade and removed the remaining soap from his face with the towel as he walked to the kitchen.
Henri lounged at the table eating croissants with Billy. “There you are,” Henri lifted his chin to John. “I brought a bit of breakfast back with me.”
John tossed the end of the towel over his shoulder and picked up one of the flaky pastries. “Did you learn anything new from Bonet last night?”
Henri swallowed and nodded. “Bonet spoke to that René fellow you asked about.” He waved his bread toward Billy. “René saw two men struggle near your truck just before the gunfire. Afterward, he had the impression there were several men involved in the attack, but he didn’t stick around to find out.” Henri took a sip of his coffee. “René said he didn’t know you’d been hit.” He raised his gaze to John. “And he was very pleased to get his money back.”
“I’m sure he was.” John leaned against the counter and bit into the buttery pastry.
“But we’re no closer to finding François.” Billy tossed his half-eaten croissant onto the table. “I fear it’s been too long.”
“If they want the rest of the weapons, they’ll keep him alive,” John reassured Billy.
“Then why no demands? Why haven’t we heard anything?” Billy set his elbows on the table and slid his fingers into the thick hair on both sides of his head.
“We will—or we’ll find him on our own.” John addressed Henri, “Did you learn anything else about your friend, Karl, or Bonet’s other employees?”
“Not my friend, but yes.” Henri nodded. “Karl’s employment includes a room behind the stage area. Since Bonet has an apartment above his club, Karl must stay close and remain at Bonet’s beck and call.” Henri lowered his voice. “Recently, Karl has left the building as soon as the club closes and often doesn’t return until mid-afternoon.”
“How did you learn that?” Billy’s eyes were wide.
“Bonet is inconvenienced. He complains loudly.”
“Where does Karl go?” John narrowed his eyes at Henri with interest.
“Bonet doesn’t know, but it might pay to find out.” Henri picked up another croissant.
“I agree.” John left Billy and Henri to discuss Karl and finished dressing. He unwrapped one of several new shirts he had ordered from the garment maker.
Mae had come by earlier that morning and told him she would stay with Lou today so Aubrielle could get away from the house for a few hours. He grinned at himself in the mirror as he adjusted his tie.
I’ll see Aubrielle today.
All the women she had been faded in light of the person John had come to know. All the similarities and differences combined into the girl he had always loved.
Aubrielle.
Henri and Billy looked up as John passed through the kitchen. He picked up his coat and hat and spoke over his shoulder. “Maybe we can discover where Bonet’s manservant goes after club hours.” At the door, he turned and looked at Billy and Henri. “In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you would see to Éclair’s stall. It no doubt needs cleaning.”
* * *
John tucked Aubrielle’s gloved hand inside his arm as they crossed the street. The blue sky and bright sunshine belied the hint of a chill in the breeze. Winter was not done with them yet.
“What is the name of the shop again?” John asked.
“Asher’s Market. It’s a Jewish store and will have everything I need to purchase.” She looked up at him and shielded the late morning sunlight with her palm. “I hope you’ll be able to join us each evening when we light the candles.”
A fist of emotion clenched his heart.
Was it always like this?
“I would be honored.” The witch who had cursed them so long ago—Nescato—had been mistaken. She swore he would love only one woman for all eternity, yet in every life, Agaria was unique, even though she retained the same beloved essence in her soul.
And I fall in love each time, just as I did the first time.
The neighborhoo
d around Asher’s Market boasted a café, a greengrocer and a handful of clothing and shoe stores. Locals congregated along the street between Asher’s and the eatery.
“Perhaps we could dine at the Café Jardin de Lune after you finish shopping.” John pointed to the small restaurant as they passed.
“Perhaps.” Aubrielle pulled a folded slip of paper from her purse. “If you would wait for me out here. The aisles inside are narrow, and the crowd will be more than usual because of the holiday.”
At the front of Asher’s, he pulled her hand free of his arm and kissed the back of her glove. “I’ll watch for you from here.”
Aubrielle’s eyes widened, and she raised her hand to her blushed face. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll return shortly.” She took a step back, still gazing into his eyes, then turned and entered the store.
Although the café’s outdoor tables remained empty, beyond the windows, the seats inside were filled with diners. Several people waited at the entrance to give the maître d' their name.
John crossed the street and added his name to the list. As he walked back to the market, he saw a face he recognized.
Karl stood beside the entrance to Asher’s Market. With a pencil and journal in hand, he spoke briefly to each shopper who approached the Jewish store. He made notations in his book, and then would move on to the next customer.
John leaned his shoulder against the storefront stone facade and watched with interest.
Curious.
Aubrielle walked out the door, her purchases boxed and wrapped in brown paper.
Karl approached her, tipped his head and spoke for several moments.
Aubrielle nodded. As she listened, she reached up and touched her necklace. She replied to several questions, nodded to Karl, and then looked over and caught John’s gaze. Her smile brightened. She edged sideways to avoid two women going into Asher’s and made her way to John’s side.
John took her package. “What was that about?” he asked, with a nod toward Karl.
Bonet’s manservant had stopped the two women, making note of their answers. He opened the door for them to enter, then made another quick note in his book.
“The man asking questions?” Aubrielle glanced over her shoulder. “He works for Asher’s Market.” She grinned at John. “They’ll have a drawing on the last day of Hanukkah to give away a prize. He asked my name, address, and the names of everyone in my family. Papa has a chance to win too.” Aubrielle raised her eyebrows at John. “We’re lucky to have our names on the list.”
CHAPTER 21
Could Bonet’s valet have taken a second job?
“I put our name on the seating list at the Jardin de Lune.” John took Aubrielle’s elbow.
I’ll have Henri check with Asher’s Market.
John ground his teeth as uneasiness crawled between his shoulder blades.
“I’m sorry, John. I wish I could. Another time would be better.” Aubrielle paused with John in front of the café. “The restaurant is too busy, and I can’t be gone very long. Tante Mae is with Papa, but if her other baker becomes ill…” She shrugged one shoulder. Her dark eyes pleaded with him to understand.
“A brief stroll in the park, then. The fresh air and sunshine will do you good.” He held out his arm. “We’ll purchase pies from a vendor and still have you home in half the time.”
The path to the park led them toward the river and put the wind to their backs. John’s attention returned to the woman at his side, and he struggled with disbelief.
She chose to be here—with me. His heart soared.
Sunlight sparkled across her necklace, and he blinked. A sudden foreboding curled low in his gut, and his mood darkened. Foreknowledge, a terrible gift given to him long ago, had seemed a distant fairy tale. Splendid with human advancement—flying machines and automobiles. Unbelievable in its horror.
And now here—with this woman—at this time and place. Terrifying.
They waited at the streetlight then crossed the bridge over the Seine.
We’ll have to leave France, leave Europe altogether.
Those distant words had painted an ugly picture of a genocidal maniac.
London bombed and burned and trains leaving Paris bound for camps in Poland.
“You’re quiet today,” Aubrielle observed. She pointed at a puddle of melted snow. They avoided the water and passed beneath the Eiffel Tower.
“I know.” He forced a smile and clamped down hard on his panic. “I’m sorry.”
I still have time.
Not far from the entrance, a food vendor sold warm meat pierogies to several servicemen. John and Aubrielle waited in line. When they held their meat pastry, they strolled to the closest bench and sat facing the sun.
“What’s on your mind?” Aubrielle bit into her pie and warm gravy ran down her chin. She giggled and held a napkin to her mouth. “Careful.”
Even her playful smile couldn’t lift his anxious mood. “I was reminded today of Hitler’s publication and how filled with hate the man is.” He shook his head.
I must carry this burden of knowledge in silence—or be thought insane.
“Don’t think of him.” She caught a drop of meat sauce on her tongue, then took another small bite. “He won’t get into France,” she assured, the napkin covering her lips.
Is it her youth or her trusting nature?
He bit into his pie, and it tasted like ash in his mouth.
I’ve lived too long, despite my appearance. Jaded and fearful.
He took another small bite, then tossed the pie and wrapper into the trash receptacle.
“Are you not hungry?” She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “You’re upset with me after all.”
“Not in the least.” John set back and rested his arm along the back of the bench. “But I am a fool to waste a precious day with you on fears of an uncertain future.”
Uncertain to some.
He took a deep breath and exhaled through pressed lips as he studied the blue winter sky.
I have an old man’s soul in a young man’s body.
He took the empty pastry wrapper she offered and tossed it into the trash.
And I ache with a young man’s need.
“Every moment with you is far too valuable to squander with worry.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles.
She leaned into his touch and smiled. “Then don’t worry.”
“Hmm,” he chuckled and gestured with his other hand. “Over there, across the way. Do you know what happened there?”
She shook her head. “No. What do you mean?”
“That’s where you stood the first time I saw you.” He turned toward her and searched her eyes. “I swear—I’ve never seen anything or anyone, more beautiful.” He leaned forward and tasted her lips with a gentle brush of his mouth then drew back to gauge her reaction.
Her eyes opened and stared into his. She lifted her hand and touched the fingertips of her gloves to her lips. Then she reached out and caressed the side of his face, pulling it toward hers. “Again.” Her eyelashes fluttered closed, and she raised her face.
John ran his fingers through her hair behind her ear and listened for the small intake of breath he knew would follow.
Youth’s passion coupled with a legacy of loving memories.
“I know you.” He spoke too soft for her to hear, then lowered his mouth to hers.
Her lips parted beneath his, and she met his declaration with one of her own—without words, the tilt of her head spoke to him. The soft white gloved hand slipped behind his neck and held him close.
A pulse of desire spread downward from John’s gut.
And she knows me.
Thankful for the box of candles resting on his thighs, he broke the kiss and raised his head. In an instant, he memorized her face, her lips, soft and moist—her long lashes fanned beneath delicately arched brows, the same color as her dark hair.
Lashes lifted from her cheeks, and her eyes searched his. Her russet-br
own irises sprinkled with flecks of gold, caught the winter sun and reflected its light. She returned his stare, her pupils large and inviting. Her lashes lowered. With small deliberate movements, she dropped her hand from his neck and clasped them together in her lap. “I thought…that was—” Her face infused with color, and she turned her head away.
“A kiss. Heartfelt and sincere. The first of many I hope we share, only with you.” He positioned the package on his lap to shield the embarrassment of his ardor.
We shall require more privacy.
She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “The first of many?” A gentle smile spread across her face. She lifted her chin and gazed across the parkway. “I’d like that. Perhaps more than I should.” She remained silent for several moments, staring at the place she used to sell flowers in the morning, then she brushed her hands down her thighs. “But for now, I must return to Papa.” She stood and held out a hand to John. “Ready to walk me home?”
“Of course.” John adjusted his overcoat as he stood to conceal the evidence of his desire. He tucked her package under his arm and took her hand.
He declined Aubrielle’s invitation to stay for dinner, as well as Mae’s offer to send food home with him for Billy and Henri.
I’ll speak to the butcher tomorrow and have meat delivered to Mae.
The generous woman continued to offer help to everyone during difficult times. The least he could do was help her feed those she loved. Besides, he intended to share many dinners with Mae’s adopted family.
John paused to check on Éclair before he crossed the alley to his building. Watching Karl write down names, and remembering the horrors that had been foretold, firmed his resolve to discover the truth about the scarred valet. John opened the door to his apartment and cast a quick look around. “Where’s Henri?” He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.
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