Swiveling her head, glancing about, Diedre noticed the life-sized portrait in oils of King George VI hanging on one wall. He had stepped into the breach last year, when his brother Edward had abdicated, and was now their king. Thank God Edward was never crowned, she thought. There would have been an even bigger mess.
Instinctively, she felt George VI would be a good king. He was brave, the way he managed and dealt with his speech impediment, that awful stutter. He had a lovely wife, who was now their most graceful queen, and two little girls, Elizabeth and Margaret Rose. He was very much a family man, and always referred to them as “us four,” as if they were united against the world. Perhaps they were.
Tony, Miles, and Charlie were taking flutes of champagne from the passing waiters, and handing them around. Once everyone had a glass in their hands the group moved farther into the room.
As usual, there was an instant lessening of the chatter, and the overall noise dropped several octaves as many heads turned to ogle the glamorous, aristocratic Inghams.
* * *
Within minutes Charlie and Hugo had wandered into the middle of the crush, curiosity propelling them forward.
“I wish them lots of luck, plunging into the crowd,” Diedre murmured.
Cecily said, “Do you know anyone here, Diedre?”
“No, not really. But I do recognize a couple of faces over there … among that group of men. They’re all foreign correspondents, mostly from the British papers, and I think the fellow they’re focusing on is William Shirer, an American writer. He’s considered to be the expert on the Third Reich. He’s covered Berlin for years.”
Daphne said, “I want you three to know that I’m really rather impressed with Charlie. I’ve seen his seriousness about going into journalism, and he’s certainly very focused and knows a lot. He just sucks up information.”
“He really is a gatherer of news,” Cecily interjected. “Miles thinks he’s got what it takes, don’t you, darling?”
“Yes, I do indeed. He’s good, Daphers, very committed to his future career. He just needs air, space, the way you’ve given it to him the last few days,” Miles thought to add, not wishing Daphne to say defensively that she didn’t stifle her son.
A moment later, Tony was coming back, ushering a handsome couple. Drawing to a stop, he said to Daphne, “This is your old friend Lady Arabella Cunningham, who is now Princess von Wittingen, and her husband, Prince Kurt.”
“Goodness me! Arabella, how lovely to see you,” Daphne exclaimed, thrusting out her hand, a huge smile spreading across her face.
The princess smiled back, and said, “It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, but you haven’t changed, Daphne. You’re still the great beauty.”
* * *
After shaking hands with the von Wittingens, Diedre, as usual, became the observer, listening to everyone else, enjoying the warm conversation in progress. She thought Arabella and her husband made a handsome couple, and from what she was hearing they were regular visitors to the British embassy, as were several of their friends, whom they were expecting to arrive shortly.
After a few minutes, Hugo returned and was presented to the von Wittingens. After speaking to them cordially, he edged closer to Diedre and Tony. He said in a low voice, “Charlie’s having the time of his life, chatting to a beautiful Russian. Another princess, actually.”
Tony exclaimed, “That must be Princess Irina Troubetzkoy. I need to speak with her. Excuse me for a moment.”
Diedre smiled at him, nodded, and turned to Hugo, “I for one will never really worry about Charlie ever again. I do think he knows how to take care of himself, and he’s deft when it comes to meeting new people. He certainly has the gift of the gab.”
Hugo smiled when he said, “Oh yes, he’s undoubtedly kissed the Blarney Stone, words just flow out of him.” Dropping his voice, he whispered, “What a collection of strange people are gathered here tonight. Somebody on the ambassador’s staff must have gone slightly mad. I overheard a man say a few ladies of the night are here … from Madame Kitty’s, the best brothel in Berlin.”
Diedre burst out laughing. “That’s true. Those women down there in the very gaudy clothes and cheap jewels undoubtedly spring from Kitty’s. The SS officers with them appear to be entranced, will no doubt be all tucked up with them tonight.”
“Lots of luck to them all,” Hugo muttered, and swung his head as Tony said, “Hugo, Diedre, I would like you to meet Princess Irina Troubetzkoy.”
Diedre found herself looking into a small piquant face filled with laughter. Large blue eyes sparkled, and the princess’s burnished brown hair framed a lovely, rather delicate face. There was a carefree air about her, denying the turbulent youth Tony had described.
“I am so pleased to meet you,” Irina said to Hugo, repeated the same words to Diedre, then added, “Tony told me Lady Daphne is an old friend of Arabella’s. How nice they have met again after so many years.”
“My sister was thrilled, as you can probably tell from the conversation they’re having. They haven’t stopped talking,” Diedre said.
“I do see, yes,” Princess Irina answered, her voice light, musical, her slightly accented English perfect in its pronunciation.
Diedre was instantly drawn to her, liked her effervescent personality, her easy open manner. She wore a black lace dress of three-quarter length; her only jewelry were small pearl ear clips and a watch. But she was elegance personified, and had a special aura about her.
Charlie, who had trailed after the princess and Tony, edged into the small group they made, stood next to his father, his admiration for the princess reflected on his young face. He thought she was about twenty-five, but he didn’t care. He would like to get to know her better. What a beauty she was.
Tony, giving Diedre a careful glance, murmured, “I wanted you to meet Princess Irina, and now I must take her away. But only for a moment or two. I need a quick private word with her.”
“That’s fine, Tony,” Diedre responded, and then frowned. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “I think Sir Anthony Parry is coming toward us, along with another man.”
Following her gaze, Tony nodded emphatically. “Oh gosh, it is him, yes. And I believe that is his old friend Professor Steinbrenner with him.”
Moving forward immediately, Tony went to greet the two men.
Within moments Sir Anthony was shaking Diedre’s hand before he introduced Professor Steinbrenner to them all. Diedre asked after Lady Parry, told Sir Anthony that Lady Gwendolyn was keeping well, in answer to his question, then addressed the professor. She said, “Your daughter Greta works with my sister-in-law, Cecily, Professor Steinbrenner. She happens to be here tonight. I know she would love to meet you.”
Helmut Steinbrenner’s face changed instantly when he heard those words. His dark brown eyes so dull and tired a moment ago brightened considerably. They were sparkling and there was a sudden expression of eagerness in them. He broke into smiles. “That would be wonderful, Lady Diedre.”
He couldn’t help glancing around, asking as he did, “Where is the great Cecily Swann my Greta never stops talking about?”
“I’m going to bring her over,” Diedre announced, and gave Tony a very pointed look when she left the group.
He understood she wanted him to get the princess alone, in order to ask for her help. He watched Diedre go over to Cecily, who was with the von Wittingens and Daphne. Once they were engaged in conversation, he said to Sir Anthony, “If you would excuse us for a moment, sir, and you too, Professor Steinbrenner, Princess Irina and I must have a quick word with William Shirer. We’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”
“That’s not a problem at all, Jenkins,” the academic answered.
“Thank you, Sir Anthony.”
Hugo said, “Don’t worry, Tony, we’ll look after Sir Anthony and Professor Steinbrenner, won’t we, Charlie?”
His son nodded, and immediately zeroed in on Sir Anthony, saying in a most reverential manne
r, “I read your column in the Daily Telegraph, sir, and enjoy it very much. I’m hoping to write for newspapers myself one day.”
The famous academic smiled indulgently, and the four men were immediately off to a good start on a conversation about the British press. The pros and cons of it, and the sheer delight of it at times.
* * *
Diedre led Cecily and Miles to a corner, and explained quietly, “I’ve just met Professor Steinbrenner. I told him you are here. So come on, let’s go.”
A bright smile flew onto Cecily’s face, and Miles simply gaped at his sister, taken aback by her announcement. “I say, what good news this is,” he managed, surprise echoing in his voice.
“Fabulous news!” Cecily exclaimed. “I wonder why he’s here at the embassy reception?”
Diedre answered swiftly, “I understand he’s a very close and old friend of Sir Anthony Parry, who’s with us tonight. Apparently, Sir Anthony came to Berlin to give a series of lectures on philosophy.”
Miles said, “Take us over to them.” As he spoke he started to walk across the room, having recognized Sir Anthony with Hugo and Charlie.
Diedre stopped Cecily from rushing after him, grabbed her hand, held her back. “Remember, not a word about anything. And behave naturally. Miles is swift, and he hardly ever takes his eyes off you, Ceci. Be careful what you say.”
Cecily nodded. “I’m aware of everything. Please don’t worry, Diedre. I’m not dense. I know what’s at stake.”
“I know you do,” Diedre murmured, and followed her sister-in-law, who was now hurrying after Miles.
No introductions were needed when Miles and Cecily came to a standstill next to Professor Steinbrenner. He stepped forward, grasped hold of her hands, and pulled her closer to him. “What a wonderful surprise to find you here! I never thought I would ever meet you. Thank you, thank you, for being so good to my daughter. Greta never stops talking about you.”
“She’s a marvel, Professor Steinbrenner, my good right hand. I don’t know what I would do without her,” Cecily said.
Diedre stepped away, wanting to leave the professor alone with Cecily and Miles. Hugo, Charlie, and Sir Anthony did the same, but remained together, deep in conversation.
Diedre’s eyes scanned the room. She needed to get an overall view of the scene in general. The von Wittingens were still with Daphne, and had been joined by another couple she did not know, but decided were German. Tony huddled with Princess Irina in a corner obviously confiding in her. Cecily and Miles were behind her with the professor. She knew exactly where her lot were.
It was when the large crowd in the middle of the room shifted slightly, lessened, that Diedre saw her. Pauline Mallard. The woman Harry was involved with. Diedre stared at her again to make sure it really was her. And it was. Diedre could hardly believe her eyes. Mrs. Mallard stood next to an older man and another woman, who seemed oddly familiar to Diedre. And then it clicked in her mind. Pauline Mallard was with Lady Diana Mosley, one of the Mitford sisters, and wife of the British Fascist leader. Well, well, well, she thought, wonders never cease, and she couldn’t help speculating about Pauline Mallard’s political persuasion. Was she an admirer of Hitler as her companion was?
At this precise moment she saw him walking toward her. Valiant. My God, what was he doing here?
Seventeen
“You look surprised to see me,” Valiant said, drawing to a standstill in front of her.
“I am,” Diedre answered. “Flabbergasted would be a better word. You hardly ever socialize, so why show your face at the British embassy, of all places?”
A faint smile flickered. “If you look around, you’ll see that I’m not the only German officer present. The room is loaded with us, including Gestapo.” Taking a step forward, he took her hand, bent over it, kissed it lightly, his manners as always impeccable.
He went on, “I was invited, and so I came tonight because I heard you would be here. I thought it would be nice to see you, Diedre.”
“It is, yes, of course.” Lowering her voice, she murmured, “But you know I worry about you.”
“I do. And you mustn’t. I’m not under suspicion and the High Command are impressed by my career in the Great War. Anyway, here I am. And why are you in Berlin?”
“I came with my family,” she began, endeavoring to keep her face straight. As head of the Abwehr, German military intelligence, there wasn’t anything he didn’t know. He had built an enormous and highly efficient organization over the last three years since his appointment. It was filled with officers mostly of his ilk. All were anti-Nazi and attempting to work against Hitler’s deadly regime in secret.
Clearing her throat, Diedre now continued, “My nephew Charlie wanted to visit Berlin and we decided to make it a family affair. That’s his mother, my sister Daphne over there, still chatting away to an old friend. One she didn’t know she was going to meet.”
He followed her glance. “Ah, yes, Princess von Wittingen. The prince is the roving ambassador for the industrialist Krupp…” Valiant stopped, gave Diedre a pointed look. “Someone is heading our way.”
“It’s my sister-in-law, Cecily Swann, the designer.” As she was speaking Diedre saw that Cecily had paused, was hesitating, looking at her questioningly. Diedre knew she had no option but to beckon her to come and join them.
“It’s perfectly all right,” he said sotto voce as Cecily came closer to them.
“Cecily, I’d like you to meet Admiral Wilhelm Canaris … Admiral, this is my brother’s wife, Cecily Swann Ingham.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Admiral,” Cecily said evenly, not showing the surprise she felt, offering him her hand.
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Ingham,” he responded, shaking her hand, inclining his head in a small bow. “I was just telling Diedre how happy I was to run into her. We’re very old acquaintances. My family knew Maxine Lowe and her father, who often came to the Ruhr. And seemingly Lady Daphne also met an old friend this evening.”
“Yes, she did,” Cecily answered, relaxing now that he had explained himself. “It’s years since she saw Arabella.”
“So Diedre told me.”
There was a silence.
Diedre took command swiftly, and said, “Did you want to ask me something, Ceci?”
“I did, yes. Sir Anthony has invited us to lunch tomorrow with the professor. Miles and myself, that is, and I was wondering if that would fit in with the family?”
“Oh dear, I don’t know how to answer that. I’m not sure if Daphne is planning a lunch—” She cut herself off, then added, “Now, what was it she said to me earlier?”
The admiral remarked, “Sir Anthony is an enormously talented man. I hear his lectures are already sold out. I should think lunch with him would be most enjoyable.” He smiled at Diedre and went on, “I wouldn’t mind having lunch with him myself.”
“Oh, would you like to join us?” Cecily asked. “I’m sure it would be all right.”
“A nice thought, but I am working, I’m afraid.”
Instantly understanding that the admiral had seen no objection to the lunch, Diedre now said, “It’s all right with me, Ceci, I have other plans tomorrow so why not ask Daphne? I think that would be the best.”
“Good idea, I’ll go and talk to her. Sorry to have intruded. A pleasure to have met you, Admiral Canaris.”
“And likewise, Mrs. Ingham,” he replied.
Cecily gave them both a huge smile and slipped away, heading across the room to Daphne.
“Why were you hesitating?” the admiral asked, when they were alone, searching Diedre’s face. “About them lunching together?”
“Because the professor’s daughter works for Cecily in London, and she’s anxious about him being here in Berlin.”
In a low tone, Canaris said, “An exit? Is that it?”
“Yes,” Diedre murmured, her voice as low as his.
“Why didn’t you get in touch? Ask me?” He sounded puzzled.
“Because y
ou’ve done too much for me already.”
“Haven’t you put anything in the works?” He frowned. “That’s not like you.”
“I have. Tony’s dealing. He’s over there…” Her voice trailed off. She inclined her head toward Tony and the Russian princess still together in a corner of the room, across from them.
“I see. That’s all right. She will come to me. Consider it done.” When Diedre remained silent he stared at her. “What is it? What’s wrong? You look worried.”
“Four exits,” she whispered. “Such a lot. Everything new.”
He nodded. “Consider it a done deal, Diedre,” he repeated quietly in a firm voice.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m so grateful.” She shook her head. “I suppose I should have asked you, but I do worry about your safety.”
“I told you, you must stop that. I’m not in harm’s way. In the meantime, I would like a bit of help from you.”
“Anything. You know you just have to ask me.”
“Time with you. Tomorrow. Alone. I heard you say to Cecily that you had plans. Do you?”
“No, I don’t, but I always try to protect myself in case something comes up. And now it has.” A smile surfaced at last.
“I need to give you some information. I want it relayed to William Lawson when you get back to London. Meet me at our usual place at one. Now, let us have a glass of champagne.” He turned around, cornered one of the passing waiters, and lifted two flutes off the tray, handed one to Diedre.
They touched glasses, and he said, “After this I must leave.”
“I understand,” Diedre said. “I will be there tomorrow.”
* * *
She watched the admiral walking out, confident, sure of himself as he moved through the crowd with ease, stopping to speak to an SS officer, and then a colleague from the High Command. All those who knew him or worked with him cared about Canaris and his welfare. He had enormous integrity and courage; by birth, upbringing, conviction, and instinct Canaris was an anti-Nazi. He had never joined the Nazi party, and last year he had told Diedre that he believed Hitler would be the ruination of Germany, had added that the Führer was leading the fatherland into a hell on earth.
The Cavendon Luck Page 11
