by Betty Neels
Mr Grenfell tucked an arm in hers. ‘Blissful, isn’t it? We must come again some time.’
He meant Miriam, of course. She said: ‘I should think she—your fiancée would love it.’
‘Miriam.’ He spoke the name as though he had forgotten to whom it belonged. ‘I took a leaf from your book—we’re not getting married.’
Her heart gave a great leap and stuck in her throat so that her voice came out in a squeaking whisper. ‘I’m sorry—she’s so lovely.’
He said mildly: ‘Yes, but there are others…she intends to marry an American Tycoon. We’d outlived our romance if you could ever call it that.’ He looked down at her. ‘I intend to get married very soon.’
Eugenia stared at the twinkling lights of the town. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy.’ She made a great effort and smiled at him in the dusk, glad that he couldn’t see her face clearly. ‘You should consider marrying in the Castle chapel.’
‘I have, and we shall.’
She longed to ask him about the girl he was going to marry as they drove back; it would turn the knife in the wound and she couldn’t frame the words. Instead she talked about the Castle and the scenery, and when they reached Herr Sauer’s house, she got out quickly.
‘It’s been a lovely day,’ she told him in a serene voice which gave nothing away. ‘Thank you very much, Mr Grenfell.’
‘Gerard.’
‘Oh, well, Gerard,’ she smiled. ‘Goodnight.’
He didn’t answer, but stretched out an arm and pulled her close and kissed her. And she kissed him back. She burned with shame thinking about it afterwards; not only had she kissed him, she had put her arms round his neck for good measure. She spent a dreadful night wondering how she would be able to face him in the morning.
But apparently he had forgotten all about it. He greeted her with his usual calm, exchanged the time of day with her and his patient, pronounced the latter to be well on the way to recovery and had then gone to talk to Schwester Bonn about her duties after he had left. Dr Schwarz came in shortly afterwards and they went away together, back to the hospital to check on previous X-rays of their patient. Eugenia, fresh and serene in her uniform, heaved a sigh of relief and fought a strong desire to burst into tears.
She went off duty for an hour or two in the afternoon and elected to go without her lunch, mainly because Mr Grenfell would be there. She shopped busily for presents to take home and when she got back discovered that he had paid his second visit to Herr Sauer and gone back to the hospital to have dinner with the anaesthetist and surgeon who had assisted him.
And the next morning he told her that they would be leaving on the following evening. ‘So go over everything with Schwester Bonn, will you? I’ll take the stitches out this evening, so have things ready for six o’clock.’
He went away and she didn’t see him until he came in the evening, took out the stitches and then sat down to talk to his patient. Eugenia cleared up, carried the tray to the bathroom set aside for her use, and stayed there cleaning and sterilising forceps and scissors until she heard the door in her patient’s room close.
She shared the morning chores with Schwester Bonn and then went off duty. She was putting things half-heartedly in her case when Mr Grenfell thumped on the door, and when she opened it: ‘I thought we might have a quick drive round—we don’t go until the late afternoon.’
‘I’m packing.’
He glanced over her shoulder. ‘Five minutes’ work,’ he opined briskly. ‘You can spare an hour?’
Eugenia longed to go with him, but hesitated, by this time tomorrow they would be back at St Clare’s and they might just as well be going to opposite ends of the earth. ‘I’ll be ready in ten minutes,’ she said quietly.
She could taste her bitter disappointment when she reached the front door; there were two cars there and Gerard was talking to Frau Sauer and, most strangely, the Reverend Mr Pitt, the chaplain who took C of E services in one of the town’s churches. She had met him while she had been at the hospital and had liked him; all the same, she wished him and Frau Sauer on the other side of the world. There was someone else there too; Herr Sauer’s son, a solemn youngish man who shook hands gravely and stared at her hard.
‘In you get,’ said Mr Grenfell, and urged her into the car he had used previously. ‘The others will follow us.’
‘Oh, are they coming too?’ Eugenia did her best to sound enthusiastic.
‘I invited them,’ he grinned wickedly, and just for a moment looked like a small boy up to mischief.
She supposed they were going somewhere for coffee or even lunch—a kind of farewell party, but instead of turning down to the town, they went up the hill towards the Castle. ‘Don’t you want to know where we’re going?’ asked Mr Grenfell.
She shook her head and lapsed into silence until suddenly, halfway round a hairpin bend, Mr Grenfell spoke. ‘There’s something about which I have to know.’ His voice was so urgent that she turned her head to look at him. ‘Have you quite recovered from Humphrey?—and don’t, I beg of you, tell me that it’s none of my business.’
‘Well, actually it isn’t.’ She spoke with a touch of her old spirit. ‘But if you must know—well, yes, I have.’
He didn’t answer, only swung the car into the car park, opened her door and stood waiting with her until the others joined them.
Coffee in the Castle restaurant, guessed Eugenia, and joined up with the Reverend Mr Pitt, and then Dr Schwarz stopped with a squeal of brakes and leapt out to join Mr Grenfell.
They made their way unhurriedly, past the Dicker Turm and the Winter Queen’s Gate, and then down steps and through a low doorway and on through a narrow rough-hewn passage into the King’s Chamber. Eugenia hadn’t been there, and she listened politely to her companion prosing on about the various portraits of successive Electors hanging on its walls. He was still only halfway through the family history as they mounted a couple of steps and entered the adjoining apartment, vast and sparsely furnished and with a great porcelain stove in one corner; she wasn’t sure when Mr Pitt was no longer beside her. Mr Grenfell was there instead, engulfing her hand in his large reassuring clasp, whisking her ahead of the rest of the party, into the next enormous room and towards a circular stone staircase. On its step, the top one, he paused; there was no one else behind them. The others were still lingering in the first room. Eugenia looked at him enquiringly, and gave a little gasp at what she saw in his face.
‘You kissed me, my darling. I’ve been waiting for that. I think I’ve always been in love with you, only I didn’t know it, and when I did there were so many good reasons for not telling you…’
‘Such as?’ asked Eugenia softly.
‘I’m not as young as I was, I’m bad-tempered, irascible, impatient—but never with you, my darling. I think we might live very happily together. I promise you I’ll be a good husband and a doting father.’
‘If you must know,’ said Eugenia, ‘I think you’re the most wonderful man on this earth. I’ve been…’ She blinked away tears. ‘I thought you said you were going to get married…’
He bent to kiss her slowly. ‘And so I am—to you, sweetheart. Why else should we be here?’
She opened her lovely eyes wide. ‘Here? Now? I’m not dressed…’
He smiled and kissed her once more. ‘My love, Mr Pitt is here to marry us and the others will be witnesses to our wedding. You wanted to be married here, you said that roses would do instead of mink. Well, the roses are waiting, and so is Mr Pitt.’
Eugenia took a deep breath.
‘We mustn’t keep them waiting, Gerard. What about going back to England?’
‘I cancelled the flight tickets. We’ll have a few days here—together. I’m borrowing the car and we’ll drive through the Black Forest.’
‘I’ve no clothes…’
‘You said that just now, my darling. We’ll buy what you need as we go.’
Just for a moment she had a vivid picture of Humphrey saying that
, and laughter bubbled up inside her. ‘Oh, we’re going to be so happy,’ she told him.
He didn’t say anything, only smiled so that her insides melted, then took her hand and walked down the staircase and into the chapel. The others were there; waiting on a bench by the door was a bouquet of roses.
Mr Grenfell picked them up and put them in her hands. ‘I forgot to ask you if you’ll marry me, Eugenia,’ he said.
She smiled at him, sniffing at the fragrant flowers. ‘Yes, Gerard, I will—most certainly I will!’
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0409-6
HEIDELBERG WEDDING
Copyright © 1984 by Betty Neels
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