“This is not a staged ploy. I did just happen to stumble on you. Call it fate, luck, whatever you want, but I was just so happy to see you still alive. And damn it, I’m going to keep you that way even if you fight me every step of the way.”
“I’ll never trust you again. Ever.”
“I don’t blame you, Jean-Luc, but I’m going to get you out of here whether you trust me or not. We will get you home. I promise.”
Jean-Luc turned away. “I don’t believe you. You have lied to me all these years. You’re a spy. You’re trained to lie. This is no different. I thought you were my best friend, Auguste. My brother. You betrayed me. Auguste... Wait. Is that even your real name?” Probing eyes snapped back to Auguste and when his silence provided the answer, the pain he saw on Jean-Luc’s face ripped the wound in his soul even wider.
“Jean-Luc, I—”
“Quiet down in there!” the French-speaking soldier at the gate shouted as he kicked dirt at them. “One more word outta you and I’ll step up tonight’s entertainment, you hear?”
Not wanting to put Jean-Luc in more danger, he shut his mouth and slid down into the mud across the cage from him. He needed a plan. A good plan. He would have to get creative if he was going to get Jean-Luc out of here and see Isabelle again. His heart tightened at the thought of her.
Nightfall came, and the flames of the fires lit up the small camp hidden amongst the thick trees. Auguste sat listening to the soldiers laughing and talking, the boisterous men completely unaware that he spoke fluent German.
“They are going to kill us,” Jean-Luc said, breaking his silence looking up at him with worry-filled eyes. “They’ll start their games soon and kill us.”
“I have a plan Jean-Luc, and it’s going to make you think I’ve turned on you, but you need to trust me. I know that you don’t right now, but I promise I am going to do everything I can to get us both out of here. I’m not leaving without you. I promise. Can you trust me again?”
Jean-Luc held his gaze but only stiffened his jaw in response. Auguste didn’t know if fear or the cold, wet mud seeping up his clothes caused him to shake, but he knew all he needed to get his friend out of here. And he had a plan. It was risky, but it just might work. At worst, it could buy them some time.
“Guard!” he stood and shouted in his most commanding German accent.
Hearing his German tones caused Jean-Luc to look up and glare.
It startled the guard when he heard the German words coming out of his French prisoner’s mouth. With a puzzled face, he looked Auguste up and down and walked back over to him in the makeshift prison.
“You are going to send word to Colonel Conrad Schumacher and tell him Lieutenant Klaus would like to speak to him immediately. I am an undercover soldier working for the Germans and I demand to see him at once. He will know who I am.” Auguste glared at the confused guard. “I said now!” he barked, his old authority coming back to him.
The soldier stepped backward and looked to the three approaching guards for validation. They looked equally confused and shrugged their indifference to him. The guard trotted off through the camp, disappearing into the darkness. Auguste took a deep breath. This plan was risky, but it was the best he had at this moment.
Moments later the lanky guard returned with a soldier sporting a dark beard and a commanding look indicated leadership. Auguste stood straight and tall as he stared down the approaching man.
“What is this I am hearing about you, prisoner? You lie and try to tell me you are a German soldier, eh?”
“I am more than a German soldier. I am Lieutenant Klaus, a highly trained agent under strict orders not to blow my cover under any circumstances. That includes authorization to kill as many German soldiers as necessary. You interfered with my mission yesterday and Colonel Schumacher is going to be most upset with you. I can see from your primitive treatment of prisoners and your plans for entertainment tonight that I have no choice but to blow my cover and request an audience with Colonel Schumacher immediately. And you will refer to me as Sir from now on as I am a higher-ranking officer, Private.” Auguste’s face hardened like stone. The intensity in his words and his stare made the soldier take a healthy step back.
“Now, do as I say and find me the whereabouts of Colonel Schumacher. I must speak with him immediately.”
The soldier swallowed hard, his eyes searched Auguste for any sign of deception. Auguste was too well trained. He would find none.
“Well, if that’s the case, I guess you’re in luck. Colonel Schumacher is only a few miles away. I will send word, but if I find out this is a lie or a trick, you will regret the day you ever laid eyes on me. You understand me, boy?”
“Sir. You understand me, Sir,” Auguste growled back at him.
The dark soldier turned on his heel and stormed away. The guards stared in disbelief at Auguste, looking to one another for some sort of answer to this unexpected turn of events. Auguste felt the eyes of Jean-Luc glaring upon him. He could feel the distrust burning through him without even turning around. Turning back to Jean-Luc, he mouthed the words “trust me”, but Jean-Luc only shook his head and pressed it back into his arms, burying his face in his tattered blue jacket.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ISABELLE STARED OUT the carriage window as it bounced down the bumpy path headed into the city. The bright yellow and purple hues of the meadow flowers contrasted with her dark, solemn mood. It had been a long ride over the past two days as she counted the familiar landmarks drawing her closer to her aunt’s townhome... and farther away from Auguste.
She’d left everyone with the assumption that her inconsolable sobbing was due to her sister’s engagement reminding her of Pierre. How could she tell anyone what really happened? Of Auguste’s betrayal. Of how Pierre had died in terror. The thought of his smiling face twisted in fear made her feel ill. With a deep sigh, she tried to push the thought from her head. Her poor, sweet Pierre.
The carriage pulled to a stop in front of her aunt’s townhouse. Isabelle waited for the driver to come around and escort her out. She thanked him as he went to the back and began unloading her bags, placing them on the street. Isabelle glanced past the carriage. There, directly in front her Aunt’s townhouse, was the bench where she had first seen Auguste. The sight of it sent a pang through her like a needle stabbing at her heart. He was everywhere. It seemed no matter where she went the ghost of their love was determined to haunt her.
“Isabelle!” she heard her aunt’s voice call from the doorway. “I didn’t even know you were coming! Get over here and give me a hug!”
Isabelle looked up to see her aunt standing in the doorway, her long dark hair pinned up beneath her black and white pinstriped hat. Her dress had been custom made to match and Aunt Brigitte looked as fashionable as ever.
“Don’t just stand there!” she howled as she waved Isabelle inside. “Get in here!”
Isabelle smiled at her aunt as she climbed the narrow stone steps to the elegant townhome.
“Hello, Aunt Brigitte,” she said, and kissed her aunt on the cheek. “I have missed you so very much. I’m sorry I didn’t send word.”
“You never need to ask to come visit me. You are always welcome, Isabelle and can stay as long as you want. Come now. Tell me everything!” Aunt Brigitte took her by the hand and led her into the parlor and pulled her down onto the rich red velvet sofa. “So. How are you? How was your summer? Did you have fun at the masquerade? I heard through the grapevine you were dancing with Charlie Cosgrove! I’ve seen him in town before. He is one delicious looking man... and deliciously wealthy to boot!”
Isabelle cracked a smile as her aunt blabbered on. When she told her Alexis was engaged to Charlie’s older brother, Theodore, Aunt Brigitte was so overjoyed she poured them two brandies in the middle of the afternoon. She was thankful to be here; her aunt was always a welcome distraction. There would be no time to feel down about Auguste with Aunt Brigitte leading the charge.
“Isabelle? A
re you all right? I can tell something is wrong.”
Isabelle forced a smile. “I’m all right, Aunt Brigitte. I’m just exhausted from the long ride here. The news of Alexis’ engagement also brought up a lot of old feelings about Pierre.” She stayed with that story since it was easy for everyone to believe.
“I can only imagine. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting again. Please, let me know if there is anything I can do. I think the best thing for you is to keep yourself distracted. If you are up to it tonight, there is a fabulous party and everyone who is anyone in town will be there.”
Isabelle nodded. The last thing she wanted to do was to go to a party tonight but perhaps her aunt was right. A distraction may be the best thing for her.
“Good. Then it’s settled. Oh, I just realized something. I’m going into Paris for a couple days starting tomorrow, but I hope you’ll be staying with me for a while and will be here when I return? Or if your visit is short I can cancel my trip. It’s just a lady’s shopping trip I make every year but canceling isn’t the end of the world. You’re far more important.”
Isabelle relished the idea of having some time alone. “Please, don’t cancel. If it’s all right with you, I’ll be staying here for a while. I’ll go to the party tonight but then I think a few days alone are exactly what I need. When you return, I’ll be feeling much better.”
“That’s my girl,” Aunt Brigitte said, kissing her head. “Now, go upstairs, take a nap, and I’ll send up some dresses for you later.”
Isabelle stood up, kissed her aunt on the cheek and followed the dark mahogany stairs up to her old familiar bedroom. Walking to the window, she stared out across the street to the bench again. In her mind’s eye, she could see Auguste sitting there as clearly as the day it had happened. His chiseled jaw, his face hidden behind his hat, his broad shoulders... the same ones she’d been grasping during their passionate encounter. Her stomach flipped at the memory and she cursed herself for being unable to erase the incredible feelings that flooded her whenever his vibrant memory invaded her thoughts. If only she had known that day where fate would lead them. If only she had never met him, the searing agony wouldn’t be incinerating her from the inside out.
Flopping onto the bed, she pressed her face into the lush feather pillow. The dam broke and her tears streamed down her face as she tried to erase the memory of his touch, his smell, and the way he made her soul ignite. He was likely packing his things right now and would leave, never to be seen again. The thought of not seeing him again impaled her with as much agony as finding out he’d lied to her. Just the thought of missing Auguste felt like another betrayal to her Pierre. The whole mess of emotions battled inside her and continued sending her in a dizzying circle while she struggled to breathe through her tears. The sobs wracked her body without mercy until she cried herself to sleep.
“Isabelle,” Aunt Brigitte called up the stairs. “Wake up! I’ve just had some dresses delivered and they are exquisite! You must try them on!”
Prying open her swollen eyes, she looked out the window to see the sky was an arresting blend of oranges, reds, and yellows. By the looks of it she had been asleep for hours. She stood up and stretched before smoothing her wrinkled dress, the lines creased deep into the fabric from her long sleep. When she started down the stairs, she saw Aunt Brigitte at the bottom holding up a beautiful red dress. Even from the top of the stairs she could make out the sparkling silver beads decorating the bodice.
“Isn’t it gorgeous? You should see the others!”
Isabelle and Aunt Brigitte poured through the dresses, finally selecting their favorite. Isabelle went upstairs to get ready for tonight’s party and emerged a half hour later. Her red, tear-streaked face glowed with the help of some powder and rouge. Shades of green and black swept over her eyelids and helped erase the tired look she’d seen reflected in the mirror. No one would know she’d been sobbing for two days straight.
“You look fit for a king, Isabelle.” Aunt Brigitte nodded her approval as Isabelle made her way down the stairs. “Come along. Our car is waiting.”
The two beauties listened to the sounds of the motor humming while they moved through the cobblestone streets until they pulled up to their destination, a large townhome only a five-minute ride from Aunt Brigitte’s. The doorman appeared, helped the ladies out and escorted them up the brick steps to the door ahead. Laughter and music filled the air as Aunt Brigitte tossed open the door and walked in as if she owned the place.
“Invitations are for those who aren’t wanted. We are wanted everywhere.” She winked as she pulled Isabelle along by the hand.
Dozens of people dripping in the finest jewels and fashions dotted the extravagant parlor. Isabelle whirled through the crowd, greeting old friends and making new as her Aunt Brigitte relentlessly paraded her around. Many of the faces were familiar from the parties she’d attended this spring with Alexis. She saw Connor O’Brian across the room. He was another Irishman like Charlie and Theodore Cosgrove, and she remembered how smitten Alexis had been with him. Theodore was a vast step up and Isabelle thought how lucky for Alexis that the romance with Connor had never gone anywhere.
Isabelle slipped away as Aunt Brigitte was telling a story to a group of her friends, her cigar waving wildly about as her hand gestures increased the interest of her captivated audience. Plucking a glass of red wine from the tray of a passing waiter, she slipped past and headed out the back door to get a breath of fresh air. She walked out onto the manicured yard and sat down on the bench overlooking the small garden. Taking a deep breath, she drew the glass to her lips, slugging it down in several unladylike gulps. She closed her eyes as she pulled the empty glass from her mouth with a satisfied sigh.
“I know a dozen men who couldn’t even put down a glass of wine that fast.”
Isabelle sat up straight as the coarse voice seemed to come out of thin air. Her eyes searched through the darkness until she saw a man emerge from behind the gazebo. Squinting, she tried to make out more than just his fancy tuxedo and his tall stature.
“Hello, Isabelle,” he said as he took a step closer to her.
She squinted harder until her eyes made out the familiar face of a man she had met before.
“Charlie Cosgrove,” she said with a smile. “You’ve caught me. All those years of etiquette lessons and apparently, I never did master how to sip wine like a lady.”
Charlie threw his head back in a belly laugh and Isabelle joined him. It felt good to laugh.
“What are you doing here, Charlie? I was told your family was heading to the south of France with the war nearing?” she asked, remembering that her sister was currently en route to what she was sure was a fabulous home in the country.
“Yes, you’re correct. They did all head south. I had some business to finish up here and I will depart in two days to join them in Cannes. When you can hear bombs and gunfire in the distance, it becomes time to head further away. I’m surprised your family isn’t heading south as well. Rumor has it half of the city will be empty by early next week.”
Isabelle had heard mumblings as she’d walked through the party, sightings of German soldiers nearby. Some men boasted that they would whip the Germans in a few days and had nothing to worry about. Others argued that it was no longer safe here and the smart thing to do was to take the women and children farther south, out of harm’s way. Isabelle couldn’t imagine this peaceful town destroyed in gunfire and war. Violence had always seemed a world away, but she had also heard the distant bangs over the past few nights during her travels here. Perhaps she wouldn’t be staying here as long as she expected.
“Well, you must tell my sister hello when you see her, and tell her I’ll visit soon. And send my congratulations on to your brother, Theodore. He made a wise decision in choosing Alexis. She will make a wonderful wife and mother. You can be assured of that.”
“I have no doubt Alexis and Theodore will be happy together. He told me the night of the party that he had met the girl o
f his dreams and he would marry her someday. He’s such a hopeless romantic,” Charlie sneered, teasing his brother. “It was ‘love at first sight’, he said.”
“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” Isabelle asked as Charlie sat on the bench next to her.
“Well, I believe in attraction at first sight, Isabelle. I believe love is something that builds over time, something that is slowly earned through loyalty, trust and affection. I don’t believe two people who have never spoken can possibly know if they will be a good fit over a lifetime together.”
Isabelle quietly contemplated his perspective. On one hand, she felt he was right. Her love for Pierre hadn’t developed until they’d had a solid basis as friends. He had grown on her slowly until she trusted him and respected him. She wouldn’t call it passionate love, but it was love nonetheless. On the other hand, her feelings for Auguste had erupted like an explosion. Fast and powerful, growing even stronger as the days went by. Perhaps Charlie was right and it was just passion and attraction she felt for Auguste, and her notion of a love like her parents’ love was a childish one and such a thing was a rarity she wasn’t fated to experience.
“And what do you think, Isabelle? Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked, watching her face as she reflected on his words.
“I don’t know, Charlie. I would like to believe in love at first sight. In some cosmic way, it’s your soul recognizing its other half. My father said he fell in love with my mother with just one look into her eyes. I can say from first-hand experience their love burned brighter than any other I’ve seen until the day she died. On the other hand, I think you could also be right that love can grow from a mutual respect and friendship. I guess I don’t know what I think anymore, Charlie. Maybe it can be both.” Her voiced faded off as her eyes turned up to the dark sky, dotted with little white stars.
“Well, I’ll tell you what, Isabelle. The first time I saw you walking up the steps I felt my heart beating faster. My palms got sweaty. I had an overwhelming desire to dance with you. Is that love at first sight? Perhaps. Is it just attraction that could turn into love? Perhaps. What I do know is that I would be honored if you would allow me to spend some time with you before I leave.”
A War Within (Epic WWI Love Story) Page 21
