“I don’t understand. What did you mean did she come alone?”
“Did she bring any of her staff, such as her lady’s maid?”
“Yes, her lady’s maid served your mother until her death and then abruptly left after her funeral. I think her name was Dorothea or Dorcas or something of that nature.”
Jolene’s breath hitched at the confirmation of her name.
“I know it started with a D, but my poor memory fails me,” her aunt sighed.
“My memory fails even me,” she replied lightheartedly. There were more questions to ask, but Jolene did not want to raise any suspicions over her sudden interest in a lady’s maid who once served her mother.
She glanced at Geraldine, whose head lowered until her chin touched her chest. Apparently, the rocking had lulled her to sleep as they journeyed home.
In the quiet moments, Jolene mulled over the facts she knew to be truth. Jacquelyn Bennett, her alleged mother’s maiden name, had been born in England. Angelique, her birth name, sounded strange for a baby with English heritage.
When Jolene’s curiosity piqued at an early age, she began asking questions about the whereabouts of her real father. The count explained that he had died in a tragic accident. The story had been a recital of her mother’s explanation. If her stepfather knew anything else about her lineage, he never spoke of it.
Though he had legally adopted her immediately after her mother’s death, the gaps in her past bothered Jolene. The mystery about her real father had remained a black hole of unanswered questions. What fleeting memories she possessed of her mother brought no comfort. She loved her stepfather deeply, and there had never been any doubt in their mutual affection. Nevertheless, their relationship did not diminish her sense of being a broken branch from an unidentified family tree that her stepfather grafted into another. It was akin to wearing a mix-matched piece of clothing, such as a striped blouse with a checkered skirt. Nothing blended.
In addition, it had been difficult growing up in a household with no women close to her side. After her mother’s death, the count retained the governess that her mother had hired when she had been a toddler. They were never close, and the only female companionship she had were the infrequent visits of her aunt from Berlin.
Her hand patted the purse in her lap. The letter buried inside, if true, had the power to redefine her identity. With all that had happened, how could she ignore it?
As they pulled into the drive of their estate, Jolene concluded without a doubt she would seek the truth. And if it turned out to be nothing more than a cruel ruse, she would brush it aside and continue with her life as komtesse of the von Lamberg estate and wealth. However, if it were true, she had no idea how in the world she would be able to handle the shock of it all.
Chapter 2
Patience and Dèjá Vu
When they returned and walked indoors, Jolene swallowed hard finding it difficult to return home. The welcoming of the staff and the beauty of her surroundings did nothing to calm her anxious heart. Ever since her stepfather had died, a spirit of profound loneliness followed her from room to room. The interior of the estate had turned as cold as the wintery day outside.
She glanced at the magnificent grand staircase, which undoubtedly impressed everyone who entered the von Lamberg residence. Carpeted in a deep red with a polished mahogany railing, the first eighteen steps led to a landing beneath an impressive two-story wall. In the center, a large portrait of the count in his full military regalia hung in the center. He stood proudly greeting his guests with his hand upon the handle of a sword of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Continuing from the landing, the staircase curled to the right and left, leading up another eighteen stairs to the second story consisting of two wings. An overwhelming sixteen bedrooms and eight bath chambers lined the halls. On the first floor, a massive parlor, music room, library, study, and dining room had been designed by the count to impress. He showcased his wealth in every meter of the mansion with plaster decorative embellishments, fresco painted ceilings, and rich furnishings.
Jolene had no idea how she would survive in a massive residence as one single person. Of course, to maintain the household she relied upon the butler, housekeeper, maids, cooks, groundskeepers, and grooms for the horses. She took for granted the palatial home in which she grew up, until the responsibility for its care had been thrust upon her after her stepfather’s death.
The maid took their hats and coats. Geraldine grabbed Jolene by the hand. “Come with me into the parlor, and let us talk for a few moments. I have something to say to you.”
Without complaint, Jolene followed her aunt expecting to receive a formal lecture regarding her resolve to travel.
“Before I leave for Berlin, I wish to make a proposition to you regarding your impending journey.” Asserting a matriarchal pose, she sat on the divan gazing at her niece.
“Oh, Auntie, don’t worry about me,” Jolene implored in an exasperated voice. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Humor me, dear, for a moment. I beg you.” She pursed her lips together.
“Fine then,” Jolene said. She heaved a sigh and leaned back.
“Our family is not without connections throughout Europe in both Paris and London. If you insist on traveling alone, at least let me write letters of introduction to a few of our acquaintances and procure safe housing for your stay.”
“And your motive, I assume, is to see that I’m properly chaperoned.”
“No, that is not my intent,” she replied, shaking her head. “It will provide accommodations with well-known aristocratic families who have connections.”
All of a sudden, Jolene became an attentive audience.
“The families will not only care for your needs, but they will introduce you into society as their honored guest.”
“Well, you do have a point,” Jolene reluctantly agreed.
“And it will afford some level of safety, rather than traipsing across Europe and staying in strange hotels surrounded by questionable guests.”
Intrigued by her aunt’s suggestion, Jolene felt inclined to agree. “All right,” she replied with a smile. “If it brings you a sense of comfort and relief that I will be safe, then I accept. Who exactly are you thinking about?”
“My husband is well acquainted with the Sauvageau family in Paris through his business dealings. I’m sure they would more than welcome you as my niece into their household.”
“But it is my plan to travel to England first,” she announced, “What of London? Do you know any families there?”
“I’m not familiar with anyone in England, but let me inquire of my husband after my return to Berlin. He may be aware of a suitable family.”
Upon hearing that she had to wait, Jolene’s excitement soured. “But that will take time, and I do not wish to postpone my trip,” she whined. “It could be weeks before you find a suitable household.” She glanced disagreeably toward her aunt. “Certainly, there must be a safe hotel where I can stay in London.”
“Please, Jolene, your trip can be put off for a few weeks. Do this for your elderly, dear old auntie, so that I can sleep at ease while you are gone. Your father would have wished that you use caution. If not for me, do it for his memory.”
Her aunt had become proficient pricking her conscience and sowing seeds of guilt. Jolene wanted to leave as soon as possible. After all, she had a mission to accomplish. On the other hand, she saw the unmistakable fear in her Aunt Geraldine’s eyes as if her beloved stepfather were making a plea through her voice.
“All right then, if it will bring you peace. Far be it from me to give you sleepless nights.” Jolene flashed a warm smile. “As long as you don’t delay in writing the letters, then I shall be happy.”
“Then I will pack, my dearest, and return to Berlin to do just as I’ve promised. As soon as I receive the invitations for your arrival, you may make your train reservation.”
Of course, as the weeks passed
, Jolene realized that patience had not been a virtue she possessed. Her aunt remained adamant on her remaining in Austria, until the arrangements for lodging were finalized.
Jolene, on the other hand, continued to feel little concern in traveling alone. After all, she would have her lady’s maid with her on the trip. Maria had attended her needs since Jolene’s sixteenth birthday. The beginning of their relationship remained formal and aloof, but after two years together, they had grown closer.
Having her own loyal lady’s maid, made her think of Dorcas and the bond with her mother. If it were true that she participated in the kidnapping of a baby, her loyalty must have run deep. Would Maria also serve her in whatever she required her to do? As the anticipated trip loomed before her, she wondered if that would be the case. One thing remained certain—Jolene would never ask her to participate in anything illegal.
* * * *
Finally, after weeks of anxious waiting, the letter of introduction to the Sauvageau family arrived. They had extended a formal invitation and provided a recommendation to a family in London. As a result, Lord and Lady Whitefield graciously agreed to let her stay in their residence during the height of London’s social season. Her course had been set. England, not France, would be her first destination.
When Maria began the daunting task of packing her numerous dresses and undergarments for the months ahead, Jolene turned her attention elsewhere. She headed for the study that her stepfather often frequented. After weeks of the room being vacant, it smelled stale when she entered. The staff had kept it clean, of course, but it gave her a chill as if his presence watched her walk toward the hidden riches.
A brooding portrait of Count von Wilhelm’s father hung on the wall behind the desk. She carefully removed the painting, which revealed a safe inserted into the wall. After turning the tumblers to the precise combination, she pulled the handle to the right and opened the door to reveal its treasures.
Her hands retrieved a metal case, which she set upon her stepfather’s desk and opened. Inside an assortment of velvet sachets containing jewelry brought a smile to her face. She released the contents of the first and gazed blissfully at the magnificent ruby and diamond necklace that belonged to her mother. For years, she had admired it, when her stepfather retrieved it for her to gaze at the sparkling stones. The time had come when she could not only see it but also wear the jewels around her neck. Jolene turned over the piece and observed the “H” engraved with a small crest, assuming it was the jeweler’s mark.
One at a time, she retrieved the remaining pieces of jewelry that were her inheritance. Some of the items were extremely old, while others had been purchased by the count as gifts for her mother. She eyed her mother’s dazzling diamond wedding ring, which Jolene had hoped to wear when she wed. Now, with the suspicion that surrounded her mother, it had dampened her appreciation of the stone.
Jolene selected the jewelry she wanted to take on the trip. Satisfied over her choice, she closed the metal case, placed it in the safe, and locked it securely. The eyes of the count’s father followed her as she rehung the picture to conceal the location.
After returning to her room, a chill of anticipation ran down her spine. Tomorrow she would board a train with Maria to make her way toward Calais, France. They would cross the English Channel and head to London to begin her adventure. She felt exhilarated over the possibilities that awaited her arrival in England. Hopefully, Lord and Lady Whitefield would be agreeable hosts and new friendships would form.
In spite of her balking over her aunt’s suggestion, the exposure she would receive amongst society would be a godsend. Well educated in both English and French, language would be no barrier. In European society, young aristocratic ladies were required to learn the tongues of other countries.
Maria, for the most part, spoke German every day, as did Jolene. Frankly, it would be a welcome reprieve when Jolene needed to retreat to her roots and speak in private. However, she worried about Maria’s ability to mingle with the household staff that she would be required to live amongst in foreign countries. Hopefully, they would be welcoming and patient.
When she entered the room, she saw that Maria had organized her clothing for the trip. “How is the packing going?” she asked, glancing at the numerous dresses, undergarments, coats, and hats covering her bed.
“Everything is going well, my lady. I should have your garments packed and ready for the footmen to take the trunks downstairs first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you for taking care of my finer garments, Maria. I appreciate your skills and careful attention.”
“You do not wish for me to pack your black mourning dress?”
“Absolutely not. Most people I meet will not even know that I am in mourning, and if they do...well, they can gossip all they wish. I shall not be shrouded in black on what is hopefully the most joyous journey of my life.”
Before his passing, her stepfather demanded that she dispense with the shroud of mourning quickly. Jolene knew quite well some might take offense to her practice. She, however, considered mourning a delicate and personal matter of her own choice.
“Yes, my lady,” she said, pushing the black dress out of sight.
“Are you as excited as I am?” Jolene barely contained her enthusiasm.
“Oh, very much.”
“Now before we leave, do you have everything you need in the way of clothes, shoes and hats? Speak up now. If we need to go shopping this afternoon, we will do just that. I don’t mind at all purchasing a few new items for you to take.”
“Oh would you? My shoes are so old,” she said, sticking her toe out from underneath the hem of her dress showing her worn heels.
“Well, I want you to be well dressed, Maria, as you’ll be housed with the staff of these fine estates we will be visiting.”
“I won’t be able to understand except for a few words in English. I do not know French. Will they know German?”
Jolene smiled over Maria’s flushed face. “I’m sure someone on staff will be helpful. Besides, you will be too busy caring for my needs to worry about gossiping with the staff.”
While Maria continued to pack, Jolene retrieved a small crocodile-skinned box with a lock. She took each of the pieces of jewelry she had retrieved from the safe and arranged them neatly inside. Afterward she secured the lock and placed it in the bottom of a carry-on piece of luggage she would hang onto during the trip.
“We must keep watch over this case at all times, Maria. They can take the trunks into the luggage car, and we will bring small suitcases with a few changes of clothes for the trip. This one, however, shall never leave our sight. It contains the most valuable of some of my mother’s jewels.”
“Of course, my lady, I will take great care with it.”
“I know you will.”
“Well, then, the train leaves in the morning and I think we are about ready to explore the world together,” she announced. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes,” Maria answered with a giggle.
Jolene’s face beamed with excitement.
* * * *
They boarded the Orient Express on the morning of April 18, 1905. Jolene held her right hand over her stomach, nauseated from nervous excitement as they walked the platform to board the train. The air smelled of steam, oil, and steel, which added to her queasiness.
While looking for their correct car, she glanced over her shoulder insuring the trunks and bags were right behind her. An attendant wheeled the heavy load upon a flat, wooden dolly. The narrow walkway between the tracks bustled with travelers.
It was the first time she had ever ridden on a train. The count had only taken her occasionally on trips, and they were always by carriage. The long journey ahead would be a thrilling adventure.
“This is your car,” Maria said, holding the ticket in her hand and checking the number. Her maid turned to the porter and gave instructions to take the komtesse’s luggage to the correct location for loading. Jolene looked at the
steps leading inside the train.
“You’ll be all right, won’t you?” Jolene worried about leaving her behind.
“Of course, the standard class is toward the end of the train. I will be fine. Here is your ticket.”
Jolene grasped it in her left hand, and she clung to a small suitcase in her right that contained her few items and jewelry. She blew out a puff of air from her lungs, suppressing the urge to cry. “Give me a few hours to relax and get settled, then come to me at my cabin, Maria. Be well and don’t hesitate to find me if you need anything.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Maria gave a quick curtsy and continued down the platform. Jolene watched until she had been swallowed into the multitude of travelers. At the door, an attendant dressed in a dark blue, doubled breasted uniform with golden buttons and blue hat, held out his hand to help her up the steps.
“Do you need to see my ticket?”
He glanced at the number of her sleeping quarters. “Not yet,” he replied. “The conductor will make rounds and check your ticket after we get underway.”
Unfamiliar with the experience and awestruck, Jolene nodded.
“This way, if you’ll follow me, madam, I’ll show you to your quarters.” He took her suitcase from her hand. “Let me carry that for you.”
When they rounded the corner, a broad smile spread across her face. Off to the left a long, carpeted hallway stretched as far as she could see. To the right, private sleeping cabins lined the length of the car. The interior paneling appeared to be oak that had been polished to a high sheen. To the left, spotlessly clean windows gave light to the interior, along with a row of lights at the top of the car’s ceiling.
About halfway down the hallway, the porter stopped and opened a door on the right. “Your quarters,” he announced, allowing her to enter first. He set her case down and tipped his blue hat.
“The dining car is two cars to your left. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call.”
“Thank you,” she said, pressing a crown into his outstretched hand.
The Price of Love Page 3
