by Kate Breslin
Jo hadn’t considered the monotony of Odette’s life behind the veil. “It has not been an easy assignment for you, has it?”
The actress shrugged. “Not so difficult, but certainly the longest. I have been with Captain Kepler almost three months, and honestly, I am very glad to know my part is coming to an end.”
“And I am supposed to wear these clothes today so that nothing seems amiss?”
Odette nodded. “I do not know the details of your meeting, except that you are to see your father. I think they wish to break the news of your sister’s death to him as gently as possible.”
Jo’s hand went to her stomach as she tried to still her fluttering nerves. Likely she would be the one to tell her papa that Jewel was dead—after he removed the veil and saw she was a different person entirely.
She picked up the black gloves and went to stand in front of the cheval glass. Except for the bodice being a bit snug, the dress fit her well, and the skirt was long enough to hide the white tops of her button shoes.
The color seemed appropriate as well. An unexpected lump rose in her throat as she stared into the mirror, seeing the memory of Moira lying dead near the open door of a burning grave, and a sister who had slipped from Jo’s life as quickly and as quietly as she had entered it. Too many of her family members lost . . .
Her grief returned in a rush, and she quickly dropped the veil so Odette wouldn’t see. Jo would never know the young woman who had shared their father’s blood, the beloved sister who was a true heroine amid so many difficulties of war.
“And now for the final touch.”
Her attention returned to Odette as the woman stood behind her and fastened around her neck the long silver chain with the dove ring.
“For all to see.” The actress stepped back. “You are to wear it until you meet with your father.”
Jo fingered the ring, noting how the tiny silver dove was identical to her own except for a ruby that winked back at her from the bird’s eye instead of her own sapphire.
“I must leave you now. Captain Kepler will arrive for you shortly.” Odette tilted her head, surveying her work. “You certainly look the part.” She smiled at Jo in the mirror. “I wish you bonne chance.”
Once she’d gone, Jo removed the hat and veil. Colin had telephoned her after his visit yesterday, informing her they would be taking the nine o’clock train this morning, which would leave in an hour. She’d asked him where they were going, but he would not speak of it over the telephone and promised to tell her when he arrived.
In his absence, Jo had been allowed the chance to absorb all he’d told her, and she began to wonder what the future held for them. For a few uncertain moments, she’d been tempted to believe Colin’s feelings for her were a mere convenience after Jewel’s death. But how could she deny the growing attraction she’d sensed in him during their quest, or the tender way he held her in his arms, and the longing in his kiss. His whispering sweet endearments to her . . .
Jo knew down to her bones that Colin hadn’t been hedging any bets; his heart had already spoken volumes to her well before he knew her sister was gone.
But what of her own legacy—a child born out of wedlock, daughter to a pair of traitors? She had withheld much from him, and he didn’t yet know the extent of Moira’s participation in Ireland’s fight for freedom, or Jo’s part in the Dublin Rising.
Colin was a British officer, and Jo had taken up arms against just such a man. Perhaps he’d even known the soldier. How far would duty outweigh his love, if he did love her as she supposed?
A knock at the door startled Jo from her troubling thoughts. As she went to answer it, anxiety about the future and anticipation at seeing him made her heart race.
“You look like her . . . the actress, I mean.”
Colin stood on the threshold, staring at her. Jo glanced down at her black mourning garb. “Miss Odette Tremblay. She brought me the clothes. It seems we are to fool my father to the very last.”
It was hard to keep the bitterness from her voice. She allowed Colin to enter the room, and after she’d closed the door, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her deeply, and Jo closed her eyes, meeting his need with her own as she clung to him for strength.
When he leaned back, his expression was tender and full of compassion. “I can only imagine how difficult this meeting will be for you, Johanna, but in the end, I pray both you and your father receive what you want from the encounter.”
Jo smiled. She would pray for the same thing.
She finally noticed he’d changed his appearance for the coming rendezvous as well, adding a brown felt hat and a dark double-breasted blazer. Jo stepped back to survey him. With the dark trousers and shoes, Colin could pass for any local businessman—except, perhaps, for the large steel hook he wore in place of the gloved hand.
He caught her glance. “Our meeting is supposed to take place in a set of limestone caves, so I thought this device might be a bit more useful.”
She was relieved he felt comfortable enough now to wear a more practical appliance than the useless wooden hand. Then she caught up with his words. “Caves?” Her gaze narrowed. “Mr. Petit’s idea?”
“No, your father’s choice. Seems the caves appeal to his artistic side.”
That surprised her. Perhaps Papa felt safer conducting his dealings there.
Colin dropped his hat on the small table and then led Jo to sit on the divan. As he leaned back against the cushions, his jacket fell open, revealing a pistol holstered at his side.
It dawned on her suddenly how clandestine, and perhaps even dangerous, this upcoming meeting would be. She huddled against his side while her heart thrummed with a sense of excitement—or was it fear?—and her next words tumbled out. “When are we to leave for the station?”
He checked his watch. “Kepler should arrive anytime now.”
She looked up at him. “’Tis strange to think of the man in such a different light.” Jo was still coming to terms with the fact that Werner Kepler worked for the Americans. “I mean, until yesterday, you and I thought he was a Boche spy. Now it seems we’re all on the same side.”
“Let’s hope so anyway.” Colin’s smile was tight. “Our meeting today is scheduled for noon. The Sant Sever Caves are near Montserrat, which means ‘serrated mountain,’ so I imagine we’ll have some climbing to do.” He glanced down at her black gown. “Hopefully nothing too difficult.”
“Goodness, I’m beginning to wonder at my father’s eccentricities.”
“You and me both.”
She noted his hand flexing against his thigh, and concern filled her. “The idea of going into those caves bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“A bit too much like the war.”
Seeing his forced smile and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed above his collar, she was suddenly filled with a burst of love. Colin was going through all of this, facing his worst fears—because of her. He’d promised to stay with her and make certain she was safe.
Jo reached for him, touching the side of his face. “You are the bravest man I know, Colin Mabry.”
She leaned up and gave him a light peck on the lips, but he closed his arms around her and held her in place.
Returning the quick kiss, he gazed into her eyes. “I hardly feel brave at the moment.”
“That just means you’ve got more courage than you thought. After all, even the most heroic of men are afraid at one point or another, but they stand their ground nonetheless.”
One of his dark brows rose, and a gleam came into his eyes. “I suppose you mean heroic men like Bonaparte?”
“Exactly!” She smiled at him. “You know Napoleon once said, ‘Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily.’”
Colin’s burst of laughter caused a surge of joy in her heart. “The man must have been a veritable wellspring of maxims. With all of the hours he spent quoting himself, I wonder that he had any time for battle.”
She r
aised her chin at him. “He could do both.”
Then she laughed, and he pulled her close, kissing her thoroughly before he let her go. “Ah, Mrs. Mabry, you do like to tease a poor fellow.”
She smiled at him before another knock sounded at the door. They both turned their heads, and the reality of what lay ahead dampened their humor.
He looked at her. “We should answer that.”
The fluttering in her stomach returned. “Colin, what if he . . . doesn’t like me?”
Jo hadn’t meant to blurt the question, but his smile was tender. “Trust me, Johanna. Your father will like you. Even I like you.” His eyes glowed as he reached to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “In fact, I suspect he will adore you.”
He spoke in a low voice, barely above a whisper, and his words made her shiver with pleasure. She saw his reluctance as he finally released her and rose from the divan. “I suppose I’d better let in Kepler.”
———
Colin opened the door to find George Petit in the hall. His surprise quickly gave way to annoyance. “What are you doing here?”
“Good morning to you too, Lieutenant. I see you’re chipper, as usual.”
“Well, no one’s been tampering with my coffee lately.”
“Ah yes. I guess I owe you an apology. Again.” Petit shook his head. “Just following orders.”
And enjoying every minute. “I’ll ask once more, why are you here?”
“There’s been a little change in plans. This influenza seems to be spreading and has found its next victim in Kepler. The man can hardly stand on his feet, so I’ll be taking his place.”
Colin’s mouth twisted. “Are you certain it wasn’t something he drank?”
Petit laughed. “With so much at stake? What do you take me for?” His humor faded. “You wound me, Lieutenant.”
Colin snorted. “I doubt that much could injure your feelings, Petit.”
“Ah, Mrs. Mabry, I swear you could be Odette’s twin in that gown.” Petit effectively ended their conversation as he walked past Colin toward Johanna.
Colin frowned after him. He still didn’t trust the man, G-2 or not.
“Mr. Petit.”
At Johanna’s stiff greeting, Colin felt satisfaction, knowing he wasn’t the only one who resented the man and his tricks.
Smiling broadly, Petit seemed oblivious as he reached for her hand. “I’ve got a taxi waiting downstairs, and once we arrive at the train station, it will take less than an hour to reach the town of Martorell. The railway stops there, so we’ll have to drive the rest of the way.” He checked his watch. “We’re running behind schedule, so if you’ll get your hat and veil, we can be on our way.” He turned and winked at Colin. “Just like old times.”
Colin didn’t bother to smile. Instead he watched Johanna don the small black cap, draping it with the same heavy black veil the actress had worn. She rolled back the dark fabric enough to be able to see, then retrieved the diary and her purse, tucking them both inside the cloth kit bag on the table.
With her bag in hand, she turned to Colin, and he noted her pale face and the taut lines around her mouth.
“Taxi’s waiting, folks.”
Colin ignored Petit’s prodding. “Do you still want to go through with this, Johanna?”
“Now, hold on just a minute—”
Colin held up his hand to silence the American. His attention remained fixed on Johanna.
Her lips parted slightly before she nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”
He offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll be with you the whole way.”
Petit blew out a breath as he opened the door and Colin and Johanna followed him to the elevator. Downstairs, a taxi waited beside the curb.
It would be a short drive to the station. Heading south toward the port, they passed the towering Monument a Colom, where high atop the stone spire, Columbus pointed toward the sea. Turning east along the harbor, Colin noticed the busy waterfront as workers bustled about driving lorries, and dockside cranes transferred cargo back and forth between the moored ships and port buildings. Breathing in the salt air through his open window, he spotted the quay as they passed the port, and beyond that, a beach community with cafés and flats built near the shore.
They reached the train station, and Petit purchased their tickets before the three went out to the platform to board. Inside, the cars were crowded. Colin took a seat in coach with Johanna on his right, while Petit sat across the aisle from him, perusing the contents of a rucksack he’d brought along before setting it down near his feet.
Colin turned to Johanna when her hand reached for his. Because she was once again shadowed behind the veil, he could barely make out her features, yet her tight grip on him revealed her nervousness. He leaned close and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “All will be well. Just remember to breathe.”
“Easier said than done.”
Her words made Colin’s gut tighten, thinking about their destination and the struggle with his own demons. Descending into a dark, cramped hole was the most loathsome, terrifying undertaking he could imagine at the moment.
He shot another look over at Petit, who now lay back against his seat with his eyes closed. Colin wondered whether Marcus knew of the sudden change in plan with Kepler.
It would be just like the American to have pulled some surprise stunt, and after being drugged twice, Colin intended to stay on guard.
Looking beyond Petit, through the train’s window, Colin caught sight of the passing scenery, a hotchpotch of city architecture, followed by neighborhoods with clusters of colored tenements rising above the streets. Eventually those faded into factories and shops, and finally, as the train veered north, to bare fields.
Colin turned to face forward again, his thoughts returning to the upcoming meeting with Zero. He wondered what kind of man Johanna’s father would be. He had been surprised yesterday when Marcus praised rather than censured him for going on his own to find Johanna and gain her cooperation for the task. The captain had even indulged Colin’s curiosity, sharing with him a bit of Zero’s background and how the German, living secretly among the French all of his life, was ready to get out.
Zero’s reputation was one of cunning and danger, yet he’d been willing to go to great lengths to get his daughter safely out of occupied France. From what Johanna recalled of her one and only childhood memory of him, the man had loved her as well. Was he still that same affectionate father?
Colin and Johanna would both know soon enough.
As they approached the station at Martorell, the wide valleys they had passed through during the previous hour gave way to steep green and tan hills that hemmed them in. They disembarked at the station, and while he and Johanna waited inside the terminal, Petit checked on the arrangement for their car.
A few minutes later, the three were on the road, Petit behind the wheel. The route to reach the trailhead ran parallel to the sharp incline of rock that narrowed along either side of the passage as they gained altitude.
“That wide jagged range of rocks is Montserrat.” Petit pointed to a mountain with unusual spiked edges, covered in pine. “There’s a monastery at the top built into the rock. It’s over a thousand years old.”
Johanna leaned forward. “Are the caves beneath the monastery?”
“No, we’re on this side of the mountain. Once we arrive in the town of Collbató, we’ll take a road with a series of switchbacks to reach the trailhead. We’ll park the car there.”
An hour later, they reached the parking area, high above the city. Colin gazed up at the steep gray rock, wondering how far they must climb before reaching the caves.
Petit wheeled in beside another dark car, then set the brake before killing the engine. “The entrance to the caves is a little less than a mile from here. The path is steep in places, but not too strenuous, I hope.” He smiled at Johanna.
“Yes, Colin mentioned it.” She stared at her shoes. “So long as my feet survive, I’ll be all rig
ht. I do miss my boots.”
Colin smiled. “We’ll take as much time as you need. Won’t we, Petit?”
The American nodded. “We still have an hour. That’s Captain Weatherford’s car. He should already be up at the caves with Mrs. Mabry’s father.”
Colin glimpsed Johanna beside him, clutching the kit bag to her chest. Again he empathized with her anxiety: in less than a mile, he would again descend into the stuff of his nightmares—a deep, dark, suffocating hole underground.
He opened the car door and helped her alight. Johanna turned to Petit. “Is it necessary that I wear the veil on the path, Mr. Petit? I could go much faster if I’m able to see a few feet in front of me.”
He lifted his gaze, scanning the limestone hills above them. “Well, I don’t see anyone, but if you can manage it, I’d be grateful if you kept it on. Just in case Zero is using binoculars to watch our progress.”
“Very well.”
She started forward, and Colin took her arm. “Hold on to me, and I’ll walk you up the path.”
They followed Petit along a well-marked dirt trail leading upward. The air was cool, but Colin soon became warm with the exertion, and sweat broke out along his brow. He could only imagine Johanna’s discomfort in the heavy black dress.
After fifteen minutes, Petit’s breathing was labored, and he stopped to remove a water bottle from his rucksack. As he held the jug out to Johanna, Colin stepped forward. “You first.”
Squinting against the sun’s glare, Petit grinned and uncapped the bottle, taking a long drink. He passed the jug to Colin, who in turn offered the water to Johanna.
“Yes, please.” She set down her kit bag and opened the bottle, raising it beneath the veil to quench her thirst.
When she’d finished, she offered the jug to Colin. He stared at it, hesitating.
“Well? Aren’t you thirsty?”
He flexed his jaw and took the bottle from her. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back and slaked his thirst. Denying himself wasn’t going to bring a man back from the grave. For whatever reason, Richards had saved his life in that tunnel, and Colin owed it to the man to make peace with his gift.