Chapter 18
18
Inga wore her sage-green suit the following morning and tried to quell the jittery feeling as she fastened the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons on the jacket.
This is my wedding day , she silently thought. It wasn’t a real wedding, of course, and not at all like she’d always imagined, but Benedict’s unexpected act of kindness would make her forever grateful.
Word of the impending marriage spread like wildfire through the staff at Alton House, though Benedict did his best to throw a bucket of ice over everyone’s excitement. He made it clear there wasn’t a flicker of romance on either side, nor should the occasion be treated as some celebratory rite of passage.
“It is nothing more than legal paperwork conducted in the privacy of the ambassador’s office,” he said. “Mrs. Gerard will serve as matron of honor, and Andrew will be my witness. Then I have an eleven o’clock appointment with my counterpart at the Argentinian Embassy to discuss the neutrality of shipping lanes.”
Inga still couldn’t resist pinning a little spray of white flowers on the lapel of her suit. Lily of the valley had always been her favorite, not only for their heavenly scent, but there was something about the tiny bell-shaped blossoms that made them look both pretty and tragic at the same time.
Benedict skewered her with a glare as she arrived at the carriage house to drive to the embassy. “I thought we agreed there would be no flowers,” he said with a fleeting glance at her lapel.
“Lilies of the valley are too lovely for me to resist.”
“They’re poisonous,” he said. “Ingesting them can cause irregular heartbeat, vomiting, and diarrhea.”
Such a lovely thought. Normally she’d order Benedict to stop showing off by reciting facts from the Encyclopedia Britannica . Then she remembered the immense favor he was doing for her and kept her voice sunny.
“Goodness! Thank you for letting me know because I might have accidentally devoured them the next time I get hungry. You shall probably tire of being my hero before too much longer.”
He opened the door for her. “I’m already tired of it, Miss Klein. After you.”
She wouldn’t let his flat tone darken her mood. She hadn’t stopped smiling since agreeing to this marriage because she’d be safely on her way to New York soon, and this thrilling, difficult, and wonderful interlude in Berlin would be nothing more than a memory. She would never regret coming to Germany, but she was ready to go home.
The Gerards must not have gotten Benedict’s dour command to stifle all hint of celebratory cheer because a bottle of champagne rested in a bucket of ice on Mr. Gerard’s desk.
“My dear!” he said warmly, wrapping her in a welcoming hug.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Mary enthused after kissing both her cheeks.
With a little smile, Inga said, “Benedict says it’s nothing more than a tedious business transaction. You’re quite sure it can be annulled once we get to America?”
“Just don’t sleep with him,” Mr. Gerard said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Failure to consummate the marriage is the only grounds you’ll have. Can I trust you two lovebirds to keep your hands off each other?”
“Absolutely,” Benedict said.
Mr. Gerard chortled. “Ha! Don’t answer so quickly next time. Poor Inga might take it personally.”
She grimaced. “I’m well aware that Benedict finds me as desirable as a case of shingles.”
“This is a marriage of convenience,” Benedict asserted. “Just think, you won’t even need to change your monogrammed handkerchiefs, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“Do I really need to change my name?” she asked, and Benedict gave a stiff nod.
“As long as we are in Germany, it is essential that we appear truly wedded. After today, you will be known as Mrs. Kincaid.”
She’d always liked the way Benedict called her Miss Klein. At first it seemed aloof and unfriendly, but over the months it felt almost ... affectionate. Like a special code between them that symbolized their “professional détente.”
Andrew soon joined them, and Mr. Gerard motioned for her to stand side by side with Benedict in front of his desk. Inga clasped her hands, wishing she’d had a bouquet after all. It was awkward without anything for her hands to do.
“As a former judge and current ambassador, a man who has known both parties for many years, I see no reason why these two individuals, both of sound mind and body, may not enter into a legal marriage recognized by the state of New York. Inga, my dear, take Benedict’s hands and repeat after me.”
Her mouth went dry as she turned to look up at Benedict, who frowned at her. How steady his hands felt, while hers were icy and shook like a leaf. Mercifully, the phrases Mr. Gerard asked her to repeat were easy:
“I do solemnly swear that I, Inga Lissette Klein, have no lawful impediment to be joined in marriage to Benedict Michael Kincaid, who I take to be my lawfully wedded husband.”
She couldn’t look him in the eyes as he repeated the same vow back to her.
“And the ring?” Mr. Gerard asked.
To Inga’s surprise, Benedict produced a simple gold band so thin it looked like it could snap. It got stuck on her knuckle, and she had to wiggle it down.
“I want it back when this is all over,” Benedict murmured.
“Of course,” she agreed. She would agree to anything so long as she could get on that ship with everybody else.
“Excellent,” Mr. Gerard said once the ring was securely on her hand. Benedict didn’t let her go. They both stood awkwardly as the final words were said. “I call upon these persons present to witness the joining of Inga and Benedict Kincaid into the bonds of legal matrimony. Benedict, you may kiss the bride.”
Inga squeezed her eyes shut as Benedict pressed the world’s lightest kiss on her cheekbone. Once Mr. Gerard pronounced them man and wife, Benedict let go of her hands and stepped away from her.
“I’m due at the Argentinian Embassy,” he said.
“Not without a glass of champagne first,” Mr. Gerard insisted. The bottle had already been uncorked, and he poured a few inches into each glass.
Benedict swallowed his in a single gulp, then set the glass down. “Thank you, sir. And now ... off to business. Andrew? We’re going to be late.”
At least Andrew appeared a little apologetic as he congratulated Inga before following Benedict out the door.
“Benedict can’t help being Benedict,” Mary said as she topped off Inga’s glass. To her surprise, Mr. Gerard ordered her to sit so he could give her a new assignment.
“I’m afraid there’s no time for a proper celebration,” he said. “I have been remarkably unsuccessful impressing the hostility of American popular opinion on Kaiser Wilhelm. It’s time he understands the gravity of the situation.”
“How can I help?” she asked.
He pointed to a stack of newspapers on the table beside the standing floor globe. “Those are American newspapers. They are filled with incendiary press and vicious political cartoons attacking the kaiser. I want you to cull through them and clip out the worst, most inflammatory articles and cartoons. He doesn’t believe me, but perhaps he will believe the New York Times or the San Francisco Chronicle . All across America, the tide is turning against Germany. The nation is ready to take up arms, and he needs to see it in black-and-white. Find the most insulting stories, then paste them into a scrapbook. I shall present it to him at our next meeting.”
It was possibly the strangest request Mr. Gerard had ever asked of her, but she nodded and collected the newspapers to carry to her tiny office.
She was married. She was married! How odd that she didn’t feel any different. The trembly, jumpy fear that Benedict might back down before seeing it through had faded, but now she was Mrs. Inga Kincaid.
She rotated the thin gold band on her finger. This marriage wasn’t going to affect her whatsoever after she arrived safely back to New York. The legal ties would be dissolved as if they’d never taken place. She’d take her old name back, and then she and Benedict would go their separate ways and probably never see each other again.
All she had to do was survive the next few weeks. After that they could mercifully escape each other.
Benedict wasn’t able to draw a deep breath until he escaped Gerard’s office and Inga’s disconcerting presence. She was his wife now, and that carried certain obligations. He had respected his vows to Claudia until her dying day, even though she went out of her way to communicate her contempt for their marriage and all it entailed.
This marriage would be entirely different, with clear expectations from the outset. This evening at dinner he would announce the terms of their marital agreement to the Alton House staff. He thought they were clear this morning when he made an announcement at breakfast, and yet he had to stop Mrs. Barnes from making a wedding cake for dessert. He caught her assembling the tiered cake after returning from the Argentinian Embassy this afternoon.
“I said there was to be no celebration,” he reminded her.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Mrs. Barnes said brightly. “I was making a cake anyway because of Larry’s birthday, but he told me it was fine to turn it into a wedding cake instead.”
“Please change it back to a birthday cake,” Benedict instructed. “There are to be no gifts, toasts, or any other rituals associated with a wedding. This marriage is nothing more than a scrap of paper.”
Mrs. Barnes looked properly chastened, which made him feel a little bad, and yet it was best to set expectations from the outset. Doing so might have saved him and Claudia immense suffering over the last few ill-fated years of their marriage.
Inga was still wearing the green suit when she arrived for dinner. He wished she’d changed into something different, but asking her to do so would be too intimate a request, well beyond anything a man would request of a colleague. Worse, Inga might wonder why, and he could hardly confess that the green suit made her look like the epitome of an ideal woman in his eyes. Fresh and willowy and alluring.
As usual, he was asked to say a blessing once everyone was seated at the kitchen dining table. The words came easily, for they were straight from his heart: “Dear Lord, we thank you for the blessing of this food. We are humbly aware of the millions across Europe who have fallen under the cloud of war and do not share this bounty. We pray for peace and thank you for our many blessings. Amen.”
There was a resounding echo of “amens” around the table, followed by the clattering of silverware as they began eating. Inga started filling bowls from the pot of beef stew in the middle of the table. He waited until everyone had been served before making his announcement.
“I’d like to say a few words about what happened this morning,” he said, and immediately the room fell silent. “As you are aware, Miss Klein and I have entered into a legal arrangement so that she can leave the country with us when the time arrives.”
Larry cleared his throat. “Are we supposed to call her Miss Klein or Mrs. Kincaid?”
Heat crept up from beneath Benedict’s collar at the mistake. “Thank you, it is essential that we all refer to her as Mrs. Kincaid whenever we are in public. To the rest of the world, this is a legitimate marriage. Inga’s safety depends on the marriage being recognized as real and lasting, and yet I do not intend to carry on the charade beneath this roof. We will not be sharing a bedroom, nor shall we pretend any sort of affection for each other, physical or otherwise.”
Someone dropped a fork. Andrew’s mouth twisted, and he covered it with a napkin. How nice that Benedict’s awkward situation caused such hilarity among his co-workers. At least Mrs. Barnes and Nellie appeared attentive. Inga looked as mortified as Benedict felt.
He continued. “There is no way we could fool the people in this house about the state of affairs between Inga and myself.” He couldn’t yet call her Mrs. Kincaid with ease. All he needed was to get to the end of this embarrassing announcement and finish dinner. “In order for Germany to honor the marriage as legally binding, I am imploring you to refrain from gossiping about the marriage with anyone. Inga’s safety depends on it. Is that understood?
He scanned everyone sitting around the table. “Larry. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr. McFee?”
“Of course,” the chauffeur said with a nod.
He scanned the faces of all those at the table until he had verbal confirmation from everyone that they understood the importance of maintaining the public appearance of a real marriage.
The only person he didn’t question was Inga herself. The green suit must be warmer than it appeared because she fanned herself with her hand. She had cause to be embarrassed, and it was about to get a lot worse.
“I regret that I must be explicit, but there is no avoiding this detail. Inga and I will not be sharing a room. We will not consummate the marriage. Upon arrival in New York, we intend to seek an immediate annulment of the marriage, and our only grounds are non-consummation. You may be asked to testify in court that we used separate bedrooms. I can assure you that at no time will we give you cause to believe that we ... that I have ... that there has been any untoward behavior that would prevent the annulment.”
Not so much as a muscle moved from anyone in the room. Even Inga had stopped fanning herself, and it was so quiet the sound of the clock ticking down the hall kept pace with his thudding heart.
“That’s all then,” he finished, sitting back down and spearing a chunk of beef with his fork.
Inga shook off her awkwardness first. “Happy birthday, Larry.”
Mrs. Barnes followed suit. “Yes! Happy birthday. My goodness, it seems like only last year it was your birthday, doesn’t it? Funny how these things keep coming around.”
Everyone else joined in the birthday wishes while Benedict counted down the minutes for the dreadful dinner to end.