Pegasus: A Novel

by Danielle Steel

  “Good. I like it when it snows.” She was happy to see him. “Toby came to see me today.” She brightened a little, speaking of Nick’s son. He came to visit all the time and worshipped her. He’d had a crush on her for years, and she treated him like a little brother. Toby could hardly wait for the day when he could pursue her, and she’d take him seriously. Marianne knew that day would never come. “Don’t tell his father he was here. You know how Nick is when anyone is sick.” He had been nervous about illness ever since his wife and daughter had died of influenza, and he was particularly cautious about his sons. “We played chess. I beat him,” she said happily as her father smiled at her.

  “You should be nicer to him. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you.”

  “That’s just because he doesn’t know any other girls.” She was completely unaware of her beauty, and her effect on men. Several young men, and even their fathers, had been looking longingly at her for the past few years, and Alex was relieved that it never turned her head. She was much more interested in her father’s horses, and spending time with him, than she was in men. There was a childlike innocence about her still, which touched his heart. He couldn’t bear the thought of parting with her one day if she got married and moved away. But even if she did, he knew she wouldn’t go far.

  Marianne attended the local school, with the children of other noble families, and she had no interest in going to university in another city, particularly now that there was so much unrest and disruption in the cities and towns. His own father had insisted that he attend university in Heidelberg, and he had been happy to come home again, to what he thought was the most beautiful place on earth. And Alex was relieved that Marianne agreed with him about it. Sometimes he felt guilty for depriving her of a bigger life, but with turmoil around the country, she was better off here. He liked keeping her close to him, where he knew she was safe.

  “Can I have dinner with you downstairs, Papa?” she asked, ready to get out of bed, although she was still pale, and Alex shook his head with a stern expression.

  “No, you’re not well enough yet. And it’s drafty downstairs. I asked them to bring us trays here. Marta will be upstairs with them in a minute. I want you to get well so you can come and see the new foal in the barn. He’s a beauty, even better looking than his father. I took Nick to see him after the hunt. You can come and watch me work with Pluto tomorrow if you like. He’s doing well.” Her father gave her the latest report, and Marianne sank back into her pillows with a sigh, and he could see she didn’t feel as well as she claimed. He was greatly relieved that she hadn’t gone out that day. It would have been madness if she had, but she was stubborn enough to try.

  Marta and one of the housemen came in a few minutes later, with their dinner on trays, and her father let her get up and sit next to the fire, wrapped in a blanket, while he told her all about the hunt. She looked tired afterward when she went back to bed, but she was cool when he felt her cheek and kissed her.

  “Goodnight, my angel,” he said, smiling at her, as she looked at him with gentle eyes.

  “I’m the luckiest girl in the world, to have a father like you,” she said softly, and he melted at her words. He felt the same way about her. And then she thought of something she had forgotten to tell him at dinner. “I listened to the radio today, and there was some kind of rally in Berlin. You could hear the soldiers marching in precision, and they sang a lot of songs that sounded like there was a war on. The Fuehrer made a speech asking everyone to pledge loyalty to him. It scared me.… Do you think there will ever be a war, Papa?” She looked young and innocent as she asked. Hitler had convinced everyone that occupying Austria would avoid a war, and that “lebensraum,” annexing Austria, would be enough.

  “No, I don’t,” he said reassuringly, although Hitler had mobilized the military two months before. “I don’t think it’s as dangerous as it sounds. And nothing will touch us here. Sleep tight, my darling … sweet dreams. I hope you feel better in the morning. But I still want you to stay home from school for a few days. You can keep me company in the barn.”

  She smiled as he left the room and she felt better after what he’d said. As she listened to the Fuehrer’s speech that afternoon, she had felt a chill of fear, as though the whole world were about to change. Hitler had said it would, on the radio. But she was sure her father was right. Their leader was just speaking to the masses to excite and inspire them. It had nothing to do with them here at home. She fell asleep thinking about their Christmas ball, and how much fun it was going to be. She had to start planning for it, it was only two months away. And Nick had said that Toby could come this year for the first time. He had told her that day that he was going to get his first tailcoat and top hat, and she had laughed at him. He was a handsome boy, but he still seemed like a child to her. She felt like one herself, as she drifted off to sleep. She could hardly wait to see the inky black Lipizzaner foal in the barn. She remembered the first time she had seen one and had been so shocked it wasn’t white. And then it had grown up to be a beautiful snowy creature like the others that seemed to dance in midair. She was dreaming about her father’s Lipizzaners as she fell asleep. They were magical beings in a perfect world. A world where she knew that nothing bad could ever touch her, and just as her father said, she would always be safe.

  Chapter 2

  In the morning, Nick drove his bright blue Bugatti to the large manor house where his father lived on their estate. He had moved there when Nick married, and he had given Nick and his wife the use of the schloss, as he thought was fitting for his son and his bride. He’d been urging Nick to run the estate then, and he was still trying to get him to do so, without success. Nick was perfectly content to visit their tenants, spend time with his friends, and tend to his sons, which he claimed was full-time work, since they had no mother to take care of them now. Paul von Bingen was pleased that his son was so attentive to his children, but he would have liked to see him more interested in their land, and learning how to manage it himself one day. At forty-three, Nick was convinced that that time was so far off that he had years to learn what he needed to know. Nick still felt like a young man. His father was sixty-five and always seemed younger than he was as well. Paul von Bingen was still a handsome, vital man, but Nick noticed that his father didn’t look well today. He appeared tired and pale and was frowning when Nick strode into the library, greeted his father and sat down in a chair near his desk.

  “Are you well, Father?” Nick asked with concern.

  “I am,” Paul said, sitting at his desk, and gazing at his son with a somber expression, and then he got up and closed the door. Nick could tell it was going to be a serious discussion, possibly even a lecture, from the look on his father’s face. He was sorry he hadn’t gone riding with Alex instead. This wasn’t going to be fun, but periodically he had to subject himself to his father’s speeches about responsibility and obligation and what duty and their heritage required of them. Nick knew the main themes of the sermon by heart, and braced himself for what was about to come. His father sat down at his desk again and seemed to be weighing his words, which was unusual for him. Ordinarily, he launched right into a well-rehearsed list of what Nick should be doing and wasn’t. Nick had been hearing it for twenty years, and waited patiently for him to start.

  “I want to tell you about some things I’ve never discussed with you before,” Paul began in a measured tone, and Nick glanced at him in surprise. This was new, and he couldn’t imagine what it was. “I was very much like you when I was young. Actually I was a great deal wilder than you are, or ever were. You seem to have a fondness for pretty women and fast cars, but there’s no harm in that, I suppose. And you’re a wonderful father, and a devoted son.”

  “So are you a wonderful father, Papa,” Nick interrupted him with a loving look in his eyes. “And you’re very patient about my not wanting to run the estate. I just think you do it better than I ever will, and it would be a shame to have me make a botch of it, if I took
it over from you now.” His father smiled with a wintry expression that Nick had never seen before. Something was different today and he had no idea what it was. There was a sense of sadness around his father that frightened him. He hoped he wasn’t sick. He was growing increasingly worried as he watched his father grope for words. “Is something wrong?” He cut to the chase, and his father didn’t answer, which was unlike him as well.

  “When I was twenty-one,” Paul went on, avoiding Nick’s eyes, “I met your mother. I was twenty-two when you were born. She was a very beautiful girl, and very young. She had dark hair and dark eyes like you, although other than that, you don’t resemble her at all.” Nick knew he was the portrait of his paternal grandfather, except for the dark hair. “She had very exotic looks, and I thought we were the same age. We had a brief and passionate affair one summer when I had nothing else to do, and she got pregnant, almost immediately. Later, I discovered that she was just fifteen, and she was sixteen when she had you. Needless to say, my parents weren’t pleased. And even less so, when they discovered who her parents were. Her father was one of our tenants, or actually, his cousin was. Her father had come from the city with his wife and children to work the farm with his cousin, which was why I’d never seen your mother before. I was besotted with her immediately. Their cousins, our tenants, had originally been our serfs, which my father found particularly unamusing. I insisted I was in love with her, and perhaps I was. I’m not sure that anyone knows what love is at that age, or what can happen as a result, all the ramifications and consequences and things that can go wrong. When she told me she was pregnant, I did what I thought was the right thing and married her in a small ceremony in the chapel on the estate, in utter disgrace with my parents. My father struck an agreement with hers. No one was ever to know that I had married her, and we agreed that when she gave birth to you, we would be divorced immediately afterward. My father was able to arrange it with an attorney in Munich. And she agreed to give up the child when it was born, which was part of the contract my father made with them.

  “I went abroad for a year, to Spain and Italy. I had an extremely good time, although I felt bad about her. We were divorced as soon as you were born, as she had agreed, and they left the farm. She and her parents and brothers and sisters went back to the city, and my father bought the farm from their cousins for a very handsome price. After two hundred years on our land, they felt disgraced by what had happened and wanted to leave. I eventually returned from my travels, having allegedly married a young countess in Italy, who supposedly gave birth to you and died in childbed of a fever, which was common at the time. No one ever questioned the story when you appeared with me on my return, and everyone felt sorry for me. To be widowed so young and have a child on my hands. Your grandmother helped me take care of you, and no one ever knew the truth, except my parents, your mother and her family who were gone, the priest who married us, and the nurse who took care of you. And no one ever talked. I never saw your mother again, which was a dastardly thing to do. But I barely knew her, and you were the result of youthful lust, a brief summer fling.

  “And the only real love I felt was for you. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, and I never regretted having you for an instant. In fact, I think it turned me responsible early on, which was probably a good thing, since my own parents died when I was still relatively young, and I had to learn everything you’ve resisted learning all your life. I had no choice. I had a child, and a large estate to run, and I have done so for you, so that I can turn it all over to you in good order one day.”

  He looked bleak as he said it, and Nick could see that his father’s confession was weighing heavy on his heart. What he didn’t know was why he had chosen to tell him about his history now. Nick was trying to sort through what his father had said and what it meant to him. What shocked him most was hearing that the mother who Nick had always believed had died in childbirth, actually hadn’t. And she wasn’t an Italian noblewoman, she was a young girl on one of their farms, the daughter of a farmer or their city cousin, but the impact of that hadn’t hit him yet. Nick was more shocked to realize that his mother was probably still alive, particularly since she’d been so young when he was born.

  “Are you telling me that my mother is still alive, and always was? Why are you announcing that to me now, Father?”

  “Because you have to know. I had no other choice now but to tell you. And I don’t know if she’s still alive. I assume she is. She was told never to contact us again, and she hasn’t. She was a decent girl, and she kept her word. I have no idea where they moved to, but I’m sure we could find out. I imagine she’s still alive, she’d only be fifty-nine now, which isn’t very old. And I’m very sorry to tell you all this. I never intended to tell you any of it.”

  He had even covered his tracks by saying that her family had blamed him for her death when she died and never wanted to see him or the child again. That had explained the absence of maternal grandparents in his life, which Nick had never questioned, and he had such a happy childhood that, although he missed having a mother, he had lacked for nothing and basked in his paternal grandparents’ attention when they were alive, and most of all his father’s, who could never do enough for his only son. Paul had never remarried, and Nick couldn’t help but wonder why now, since he hadn’t been mourning a child bride he had loved. Perhaps the circumstances had been so traumatic and distasteful, Nick imagined, that they had cured him forever of wanting to form a permanent attachment, although he knew his father had had several long relationships that never led to marriage. He always said that the only family he needed or wanted was his son.

  “Now that I think about it,” Paul went on, “I vaguely recall hearing that she married a short time later. I think my father’s attorney knew that, after he handled the divorce. I was relieved for her. I remember my father saying something about it, but I didn’t pay attention. I had you, which was all I cared about by then. And if she did remarry, I’m sure she had other children. She was a lovely, healthy girl. But all I ever had or wanted is you.” He and Nick exchanged a serious look, and neither man spoke for some time.

  Nick was stunned by what his father had told him, and to realize that the father he had always believed would never lie, had told him nothing but lies about the circumstances surrounding his birth. It was a shock to learn that he had a mother somewhere who had probably sold him for a healthy sum. His father hadn’t mentioned money, but it was obvious that that would have been part of the arrangement, to induce her and her father to agree to their terms to divorce and give up the child.

  “What was her name?” Nick asked in a low voice, suddenly wondering what she looked like. There had never been any photographs or portraits of her anywhere, which his father had always said would have been too painful for him, and Nick had never questioned it for a moment, and respected his father’s feelings about his “tragic loss.”

  “Hedwig Schmidt.” Nick nodded as he felt the name carve itself into his brain. And then his father took a long breath and went on. “I am telling you this now because I had a visit two days ago from a man I haven’t seen in years. We were friends as young men. He went to live in Indonesia, and I haven’t seen him since. He’s a general of the Wehrmacht now, and he came to see me as a favor. I don’t know where or how he got it, but he had the record of my marriage, and the divorce, and he knew about you. People tell things nowadays that they never did before. There is information flying through the air all over Germany, in this very ill wind that is blowing from Berlin.”

  Paul looked hard at his son. “My friend Heinrich von Messing tells me that your mother was half Jewish. I didn’t know it at the time, and it wouldn’t have mattered to me. The circumstance of who she was was enough to make our marriage unsuitable, by reason of her birth. Her parents were cousins of our tenants, and apparently, according to my friend, her mother’s family were Jews, which makes her half Jewish, and you a quarter Jewish, and your sons one-eighth. And according to Heinrich
, being even part Jewish is very dangerous these days.

  “We’ve all been well aware of that for several years, since the Nuremberg Laws.” Jews had been defined as a separate race, and stripped of their citizenship. Since then, one hundred and twenty more laws had deprived them of further rights, and having any “non-Aryan” blood in one’s ancestry had become a very bad thing. Paul had never imagined that the plight of Jews in Germany had anything to do with them, and now it had everything to do with them, and especially his son. The news had come as a shock to Paul.

  Tears filled Paul’s eyes as he went on, but he didn’t move from his seat. He could see that Nick was already stunned by everything he had said. “He came to warn me, so that I could alert you. He said that someone has started a file on you, and your ancestry through your mother is known. This could be disastrous for you and your boys. It takes very little to tip the balance now. You and your children could be seized and sent away, and not allowed to remain here, or own property. Heinrich feels that to be safe, you and the boys must leave Germany at once. If not, with the dossier on you and your heritage, it’s only a matter of time, and a very short time he believes, before the three of you will be sent to some kind of camp for ‘undesirables.’ It is almost a crime now to be a Jew in Germany, and even being a quarter Jewish puts you and the boys at great risk. They have been using Dachau, near Munich, for ‘undesirables’ of all kinds, which now applies to you and your children.” Tears rolled down Paul’s cheeks as he said it.

  “Heinrich said it’s going to get worse. I asked if I could speak on your behalf, or if we could get some kind of special dispensation when they go after one-quarter Jews, but he told me without question that anyone with any Jewish blood or ancestry is in danger in Germany.” As he said it, Paul coughed to cover a sob that lodged in this throat like a fish bone. He looked as if his heart were about to break. “My darling son, you and your children must leave. Now. Soon. Before anything happens to you. According to Heinrich, there is no time to waste.” There was an endless silence in the room as Paul’s tears ran off his cheeks onto his desk. Neither of the two men moved as Nick stared at him, and it sank in.