Luc shook his head in response to her question. ‘You said any time was fine.’
‘I did.’ Again she found herself fumbling for her key. ‘Here, come in.’
‘Let me help you.’ He reached for her groceries.
She went inside first. ‘You can put those down over there,’ she suggested, pointing at her tiny table.
‘This is a nice place,’ he said as he walked over to the window, then turned. His gaze swept over the meagre furniture, the tiny sink, the equally tiny stove. He seemed to avoid looking at her bed, despite its bright bedspread of patchwork.
‘No different to Sylvie’s, I suspect,’ Lisette said, her tone tart. Then she felt embarrassed. ‘I mean, they share the same layout.’
Either he hadn’t noticed or he chose to ignore the barb. ‘But you have so much light coming in here,’ he said, turning back to the tall double windows. ‘It’s good for the soul.’
She nodded, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. He hadn’t lost that dreamer quality. ‘I suppose it is.’ She could sense the underlying pain he carried with him still, as though permanently bruised. ‘How are you?’
‘As you see,’ he replied, irritatingly calm.
What she saw was the man who’d stolen her heart and her peace of mind. She could almost hate him for it.
Lisette cleared her throat. ‘Well, you’re safe and in one piece, and I’m glad to see you.’ She turned to the table to put away the items she’d bought.
‘Are you?’
Lisette picked up her bottle of cheap wine. ‘It’s very early for wine, I know, but I have coffee substitute to offer you.’
‘I’ll bet there was real coffee last night,’ Luc remarked quietly.
She turned. ‘Stop it,’ she warned, and was surprised to see only injury in his expression. ‘I didn’t choose my mission.’
‘Are you enjoying it?’ His eyes glittered with sorrow. He said nothing further but took the corkscrew from her and reached for the bottle, and she moved to stand by the window.
She was angry, hated not being in control of herself. ‘Colonel Kilian is a surprise,’ she admitted, glad that her voice was steady.
‘As a Nazi or as your lover?’
She shook her head and closed her eyes with resignation. ‘Simply as a man, Luc. How well do you know him?’
‘Not as well as you,’ he retorted, putting down the wine and corkscrew.
Her first realisation that she’d slapped him was the terrible echo, sharp and angry as it bounced off the walls, followed by the sting of her hand. His head had snapped to the side but he made no sound, and didn’t reach for his cheek but simply turned to regard her, his face ablaze with rage. Or was it triumph?
What happened next shocked her even more. Luc grabbed her by her shoulders. She thought in a heartbeat of panic that he was going to fling her across the room. Instead he pulled her angrily towards him; she was like a trapped bird, small and fragile in the strong cage of his arms. Luc kissed her. It was nothing at all like the first time. Now his lips were hungry, urgent, and his arms wrapped even more tightly around her, until she was no longer sure whether she was breathless from his lust or his strength. And she responded, helplessly, furiously.
He suddenly twisted away, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth. He was breathing hard as he leant against the table. She saw the storm in his expression.
‘Luc …’ she stammered. This shouldn’t happen – not now. He knew it too.
He raised a hand to stop her talking, poured a slug of the wine and swallowed it in two gulps. He filled both tumblers again and handed her one. They both drank silently, Lisette sinking into one of the two chairs she owned and Luc leaning an arm against the wall and staring out of the window.
They stayed like that, both silent, both angry with themselves and each other, and both very aware how dangerous their situation had just become.
Before he arrived, Luc had promised himself that he wouldn’t touch Lisette. He just had to get her out of Kilian’s clutches and to safety. But all he could envisage was Kilian kissing her neck in the back of the car, chuckling softly with her hair draped across his face while he whispered in her ear. And now he’d failed spectacularly in his promise. If he were truthful, he’d admit that to be in love was to be in pain. In ordinary circumstances that pain would be exquisite and welcome. But in wartime it became something dark and fearful. To love someone so wholly, and to know you could lose them in a blink, was akin to a sort of madness.
Did she have any idea what seeing her with Kilian was doing to him? Keeping his rage silent while he watched Kilian touch her, knowing what the filthy Boche had been doing with her in his hotel, had been torturous. Why did he ever leave her? Why had he deserted her when least he could afford to?
‘The fault is mine,’ he said. His cheek stung but it was the emotion driving her slap that hurt far more. ‘I should go.’
‘No, Luc. Wait!’ she whispered. ‘Tell me how you come to be here. Talk to me.’
She was right. If his intention was to keep her safe, then she deserved the explanation. They needed to work out how best to proceed, now that the Allies were coming. He watched her shoulders drop with relief when he turned and leant back against the wall and finally raised his gaze.
‘Here.’ She stood nervously to hand him his refreshed glass. ‘Santé,’ she added softly. ‘Let’s begin again with me saying that I’m so relieved you’re safe.’
‘Santé. I’m alive, not safe. Neither are you.’
Lisette gave a rueful smile. ‘That’s because I don’t have a pouch of magical seeds around my neck.’
He gave her a sad smile back.
‘I’ve thought about you every day,’ she admitted. ‘You’re my first thought as I wake, and my last thought as I sleep.’ Her eyes glistened; she was holding back tears.
Before he allowed himself to think it through, he’d reached for her again; she didn’t resist. At first it was an embrace, close and heartfelt. They simply held one another. Instinctively he lifted her higher and she responded by pulling him closer still. It was all the encouragement he needed; within a blink he had lifted her body to him, her legs wrapped around him and they’d lost themselves in the kiss he had been dreaming of sharing.
How he loved her. On first sight he’d known he was in trouble. He hadn’t been prepared to meet anyone … not with this war raging and life so fragile. His saba had once counselled that love chose you – you could never control it, never harness it, never hope to outwit it or imprison it. ‘It is a free spirit, my boy,’ she’d warned. ‘With sharp teeth.’
Luc had found it difficult to envisage love with fangs, but he’d grown to understand what his grandmother had been teaching. His love for Lisette had not been kind and gentle; it had hounded him by day and growled at him by night.
He deepened his kiss, pulled her even closer and blotted out visions of Markus Kilian doing the same. But she suddenly pulled away; strands of her hair had come loose from the combs that held them back, her eyes were full of longing, but while her dishevellment spoke of ardour, her voice was filled with remorse.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
‘For what?’ He nibbled her already soft, swollen lips.
‘For my mission.’ She groaned softly as he moved his attention to her neck. ‘Can you ignore it?’
It hurt to even have this discussion. ‘You’re here with me now, in my arms, not his. That’s all that matters.’
‘But you know I have to go back to him.’
‘I don’t want to talk about him now.’
‘But it was only—’
Luc gently bit her earlobe and she groaned again to feel his warm breath on her. ‘Lisette,’ he mumbled into her neck, his lips barely losing contact with her skin as he spoke. ‘This is real. When you’re with Kilian I’ll remind myself that you are acting. And just know this: I have never felt this way about anyone before.’
She stared at him with a gentle, almost fearful expression.
‘I love you. And no war, no politicians, no scheming network, no distance, no English spymaker, and certainly no German colonel will ever change that. I love you. I have never said that to another woman.’ He frowned at her. ‘I doubt I ever will.’
Lisette’s expression became serious as her gaze intensified. ‘I have wanted you from that evening you brashly sauntered into Madame Marchand’s and gave me your first sneer. I hated you, and yet I couldn’t get enough of you. And then …’
‘Then what?’ he whispered, kissing her face and neck until she was sighing and squirming in his arms.
‘And then Gordes. All I wanted to do was put my arms around you … and love you; never let you go.’
Luc buried his face in her neck. ‘Don’t let me go,’ he urged. ‘Ever.’
‘Close the shutters, Luc, and then undress me,’ she whispered.
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ he replied.
Luc was in no hurry. He undressed her achingly slowly, kissing every inch of her back that he revealed as he undid each button. The subdued light and silent apartment only heightened the sweet tension. When he finally reached the last button, he undid her brassiere and it followed her dress to the floor. For a fleeting moment she registered his expertise at this undressing, but the thought fled with a gasp as Luc kissed the arch of her lower back. He knelt to help her step out of all of her clothes until at last she stood naked. Last night she was brazen in her nudity, but today she felt meek … humbled by his tenderness and her desire to consummate the passion that had fired with a single kiss.
He stood, still clothed, and looked at her in the low light that glimmered through the shutter slats. ‘You are beautiful. I hate him for having you.’
‘Don’t,’ she pleaded, stroking his face. ‘It’s just us. Don’t think about him.’
It was her turn to undress him. She savoured each moment, hungering to lie with him, to feel all of him so she could remember him. She’d never again have to imagine how it felt to be with Luc.
Lisette reached for the lavender seeds around his neck. ‘May I? I don’t want to spill a single one,’ she said. He lowered his head so she could remove it and place it by the bed. She wondered what his other lovers might have thought of it, for there had surely been others.
‘Do you think we’ll ever plant the seeds?’ she said, tracing a finger over his chest. His body was more sculpted than Kilian’s, she noted, and instantly hated herself for comparing her lovers. Lisette was confused by warring emotions. Just hours earlier she’d been in the arms of Kilian – and now she had melted into the embrace of Luc without a moment’s hesitation.
‘I do,’ he answered, pulling her to him. As their bodies finally touched, thoughts of Kilian were banished and for the next few hours, Lisette knew the loving of only one man.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kilian had woken even more enchanted by Lisette Forestier than he’d been the previous evening. Once she’d left, he couldn’t face his empty room. Instead he’d gone for a walk in the dark to give some thought to his meeting with Meister and the coincidence of Stülpnagel’s summons. If yesterday he had felt dispassionate, today he felt excited about the fresh potential for love and the thrilling terror of being part of a conspiracy to assassinate Germany’s supreme commander.
Finally he returned to the Hotel Raphaël – it wasn’t quite six-thirty a.m. – and with Lisette’s perfume still lingering in his room, he bathed before re-reading the note from Stülpnagel. Kilian had naturally run into the military commander of Paris at official occasions, but there was no other reason to cross the general’s path. The typed letter was politely formal, noting that it was time for him make his office’s services available for Church events in coming months. Stülpnagel finished by suggesting that they meet in the Jardin du Luxembourg at nine to take advantage of the brighter days, after a long and tedious winter.
There was absolutely no reason for this communication – certainly not hand-delivered at a social dinner. Stülpnagel’s sudden request to meet outdoors at such an odd time must surely be connected with Meister’s visit.
Kilian checked his watch. It was just past seven and the sky had brightened; in the corridor he could discern movement, and distantly he could hear the clank of cutlery on china. A new day in Paris had begun, but for him a new era was unfolding.
He couldn’t bear to stay trapped in the hotel room any longer and so went out into the streets, walking aimlessly, circling closer to the gardens until at the appointed time he strode to the famous fountain of Marie de Médicis in the Jardin du Luxembourg. Arriving at almost the same moment was the familiar granite-chiselled Carl-Heinrich von Stülpnagel.
‘General, it’s very good to see you again, and looking so well.’
‘Likewise, Colonel Kilian. I’m glad you could make it. I’m sorry it’s so early. No café is open yet. These French, pah!’
Kilian smiled. ‘I’m happy to walk if you are, General.’
‘I am. I’m glad to be free of stuffy offices and sniffling staff. Let’s hope spring ushers in a healthier time.’
‘I doubt it, sir. It will take more than the warmer season to bring change for Germany.’
Stülpnagel cut Kilian a sharp look, cleared his throat and gestured to move on. He needn’t have worried. There was no one else around. ‘I’ve been advised by our mutual friends that you already have a history of defying orders.’
‘It pains me to admit it, sir. I come from a line of proud military men and I fear my behaviour dishonours them. If I may qualify, I have certainly defied our leader, but my reasons are for the good of all Germans.’
Stülpnagel sighed. ‘We are damned, Colonel, for I too spoke the same oath as you must have to him.’ The general nodded at the Palais du Luxembourg at the heart of the gardens as they strolled to face it. ‘Beneath the noses of the Luftwaffe we plot.’
They walked in silence for a few moments before Kilian felt compelled to speak. ‘I admit to feeling redundant in Paris.’
‘We will all have our part to play, Kilian. Right now our colleagues are waiting for the right opportunity, which we all agree will occur in the summer at Rastenburg.’
‘Why Poland? Why not strike in Berlin?’
‘Hitler is rarely in Berlin these days. If not at the Wolfsschanze in Prussia, then at the Berghof in Bavaria. But Berlin is the prize. If we take Berlin, we take Europe. And that’s when people like us in Paris become critical. Be ready to act.’
‘When, General?’
‘June perhaps, probably July. It will be all about mobilising fast enough to smother Himmler’s squads.’
‘They should kill him too, while they’re about it,’ Kilian growled.
‘If we achieve our aim, then the second most-hated German must die too.’
‘But who will form government?’
‘Colonel, I say this with respect: don’t concern yourself with administrative logistics. We are the soldiers in this fight. Rest assured the right people are masterminding this.’
‘Yes, General.’
‘You can put your trust in Lieutenant Colonel von Hofacker but no one else in Paris – apart from myself. Come, walk me to the gates.’ They walked in silence a moment before Stülpnagel continued in a lower voice. ‘You will receive the call from either myself or von Hofacker once we’ve heard through Berlin that Valkyrie has been activated.’
‘Valkyrie?’
‘Hitler’s contingency in an emergency to mobilise the territorial guard.’ He noticed Kilian was frowning. ‘It’s to counter any breakdown in civil law following bombings or uprisings and maintain the chain of command. Our collaborators plan to use Valkyrie to seize control of Berlin by rounding up Himmler’s henchmen, thus negating the SS as well as arresting the Nazi hierarchy.’ His voice was little more than a murmur now. ‘By the time it’s invoked, Hitler’s body will already be cooling and we will have the power to appoint our own chancellor. The new government will negotiate an immediate truce.’ He stopped
walking as they reached the gates. ‘Your role is to take control of the soldiers at ground level in Paris and set up the chain of command through France. There are SS and Gestapo as well as the milice to nullify; I’ll be counting on you for that.’
They shook hands. Nothing more needed to be said. Kilian walked back to the office with a smile on his face.
It was around lunchtime when the switchboard put through a call from a Kriminaldirektar von Schleigel, Gestapo. Kilian held his breath. It felt like an omen.
‘Are you there, Colonel Kilian?’
‘Yes. What can I do for you, von Schleigel?’
‘Perhaps it’s what I can do for you.’
‘Given my role with the Church, I see no reason to have need of the Gestapo.’
‘This has nothing to do with your work, Colonel.’
Kilian paused. He could hear the blood pounding at his temple.
‘Colonel? I am on my way to Auschwitz, one of the work camps in Poland, but some information has come to my attention that I thought would interest you.’
‘Work camps?’ Kilian gave a laugh that contained no warmth. He felt sickened to be reminded of them; he’d discovered their true purpose the previous year and it kept him awake at night. It was another reason to want Hitler dead. ‘There is nothing of interest for me in the work camps,’ he said carefully. ‘You said you might be able to do something for me?’
The Lavender Keeper Page 28
