Chapter 24
24
S UMMER , 1916
Inga battled an escalating case of homesickness as Berlin shook off the depths of winter. The weather was unusually balmy, coaxing the tulips and cherry blossoms in the Tiergarten to bloom early. A joyous riot of color filled the city with a flowery display, as though nature were determined to ignore the war raging to the east and west of Berlin.
She had now been in Berlin for two years and been married to Benedict for half that time. They were rubbing along quite well, despite their smashing differences. He continued to roll his eyes whenever she reached for the gossip pages, and she teased him for his relentless slog through the Encyclopedia Britannica . Lately she’d been catching him looking at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. She might be helping in the kitchen or arranging a bouquet of flowers, and if she turned quickly, he was always watching her. She’d flash him a grin and told herself the little tug in her heart didn’t mean anything.
He was forbidden fruit, that was all. Every young man she’d ever courted, and there had been a lot , were Benedict’s complete opposite. They liked to have fun. They were rowdy and roguish and couldn’t keep their hands off of her.
Benedict could. Aside from that single time he kissed her after Germany caved to the president’s demands, Benedict seemed completely immune to her. Was that why she was starting to have feelings for him? Ever since coming to Germany, she’d been surrounded by handsome men in uniform, and yet she’d never seen anything sexier than the way Benedict Kincaid filled out a passport application. He was always so polished, his suit and tie pressed, his collar starched. He never had a hair out of place as he handled embassy affairs with flawless professionalism.
Who could have imagined she’d find such a thing attractive? Work at the embassy grew more challenging as the war dragged on, but Benedict remained smoothly confident. By the summer of 1916, he had succeeded in the redistribution of religious leaders among the internment camps. Percy wrote Inga a letter of thanks, saying that Ruhleben now had a priest, a rabbi, and a Methodist minister.
Her proudest accomplishment was the improved relations between Benedict and Ambassador Gerard. Even so, the ambassador was becoming weary beneath the weight of his duties. One morning she arrived at his office to find him exhausted and disheveled. Papers cluttered his desk, and the room stank of cigar smoke. He hadn’t shaved and wore the same dress shirt from the evening before. She opened the window to let in a little fresh air, then reached for the ashtray overflowing with cigar butts to carry outside.
“Inga, I need you to make arrangements to get me to Washington,” Mr. Gerard announced.
She froze, the crystal dish balanced in her hands. “How long will you be gone?”
“A month? Six weeks? I have no idea, but I want to be on a train to Hamburg tomorrow morning. The president wants a meeting, so we need to put Benedict in charge of the embassy in my absence.”
“I’ll get the tickets, but what’s going on?”
Mr. Gerard sagged. “The Germans are saber-rattling again, threatening to go back to unrestricted submarine warfare. The president wants me to confer with his team because he doesn’t trust the krauts any more than I do.”
The ambassador’s growing hostility to Germany was worrisome. Maybe he saw how upset she was because he immediately apologized for his tone.
“Sorry, Inga. You’re not a kraut. You’re as much an American as anyone at the embassy. Say, why don’t you come with us back to the States and get that citizenship business squared away? Pay the fee, pass the test, and then you can be an official American.”
She could see New York again? A surge of longing filled her. “I can go home?”
Mr. Gerard clapped her on the back. “Of course! Now that you’re married, you can come and go without worrying about it. Still, it would be good to get your citizenship on your own behalf, right?”
A sheen of tears filled her eyes. He knew how homesick she’d been and what a kindness this was.
“Thank you,” she said, a grin breaking out across her face. “Thank you! I’ll make the arrangements right away.”
Benedict greeted the news that he was to be in charge of the embassy with mixed feelings. It meant for six weeks he needn’t fear Gerard’s antagonism toward the Germans. But why was Inga going?
Ambassador Gerard didn’t need a secretary back home, nor did Inga have family to visit. She’d been battling homesickness for a long time, and once she returned to the comforts of New York, the odds of her returning to Berlin were almost nil. He couldn’t force her to return, but if she didn’t...
He raced back to the Alton House, where she had already gone to pack her bags. What was he going to say to her? He didn’t want her to leave. She mattered to him. Once home, he bounded up the steps two at a time. Her bedroom door was open, as was the trunk on Inga’s bed. She carefully laid the green walking dress inside it, the dress she’d worn for their wedding.
“You’re leaving?”
She startled, then grinned. “Yes. Mr. Gerard suggested I should go home to take the citizenship test. I think that’s past due, don’t you?”
Except he still needed her to return if he was to ward off rumors of another runaway wife. He said nothing as she continued packing.
“I’m worried I might not be able to pass the test,” she added. “I’ve never been all that smart, you know?”
“Nonsense.”
She held up a copy of The Perils of Pauline . “This is what I read. Not the Encyclopedia Britannica .” She tossed the flimsy issue toward the bed, but it splatted to the floor, and she didn’t bother to pick it up. Did Inga truly believe she was slow?
He turned away for a quick glance up and down the hallway outside her room. They were alone in the house except for Nellie and Mrs. Barnes in the kitchen. He closed the door anyway.
“You’re not stupid, Inga.”
“Mr. Gerard told me what kind of questions will be on the test. Something about the Bill of Rights and the Mayflower , and I have no idea what those things are. I always got bad grades in school. At first because I couldn’t speak English, and then because I’m not very bright. I only finished the eighth grade.”
Benedict quirked a brow. “You didn’t graduate from school?”
She shook her head and kept folding the green suit, refusing to look at him as though ashamed. “I needed to work,” she said. “My father said it was pointless to keep going to school because I was dumb and old enough to start earning money. He was the one who asked Mr. Gerard to sponsor me for a class on shorthand.”
Anger gathered inside because Inga was one of the brightest people he knew. Even if she wasn’t, no parent should tell a child they were dumb.
He moved to her side to stop her from abusing the green skirt. He liked the suit too much to see it ruined. He shook the wrinkles out and folded it in half lengthwise, then set it on the mattress.
“Roll it from the bottom like this,” he said. “It won’t get so wrinkled that way.”
“You see?” Inga said. “I can’t even pack a skirt. Women are supposed to know housekeeping tricks like that, but I need you, a man, to show me.”
He hid a smile. “One of the benefits of a nomadic childhood,” he said as he tucked the skirt gently into the trunk. She smelled good. Was it the apple soap she used? It was tempting to bury his nose along the smooth column of her neck to find out.
He took a step back to avoid the temptation. “Follow me down to the study,” he said. “I’m going to make sure you pass that citizenship test.”
The twenty-nine volumes of his encyclopedia had been returned to their proper place on their bookshelves. Only the volume for Q lay open on the desk.
“How far along are you now?” she asked with a nod to the open book.
“Quicksand,” he said. It felt like he’d been standing on quicksand ever since war was declared last year.
Inga turned a single page of the open book. “Quicksilver,” she said, landing her finger on the next entry. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“Read it,” he prompted.
“A liquid form of the chemical element mercury,” she read, then met his gaze. “Is that what’s in a thermometer?”
“Yes.” He found the volume that covered the U.S. Constitution and the one for American history. He put a bookmark in each to mark the right entries. “Here. Take these and study them on the trip home.”
She took a step back. “What if I lose them?”
“They’re only books, Inga.” He cared about her more than any book, and she’d be devastated if she failed the test. If it were possible, he’d scrub away every hurtful comment her father ever made that damaged Inga’s belief in her abilities. Inga was a woman whose optimism brightened every room she entered.
She took the volumes and hugged them to her chest. “Thank you. I promise to take great care of them.”
The following morning, he accompanied Inga and the Gerards to the train station. Once they reached Hamburg, they would board a ship for New York, where Inga would remain on her own to pass her citizenship test, while the Gerards traveled on to Washington.
Inga seemed overjoyed to be leaving. She’d been homesick for New York ever since she arrived, and her excitement was worrisome. Maybe she was planning to escape their marriage. If she didn’t come back, he’d think of a way to explain things at the German court. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but still ... he would miss her. Her cheerful smile gave him the jolt of electricity he needed to face the trials of each new day.
He held Inga’s elbow as they funneled along with a crush of people waiting to board the train. “You have the encyclopedias?” he asked, and she nodded.
“I shall start studying immediately.”
They reached the wrought-iron fence separating the crowd from the train platform. Only ticketed passengers would be allowed through the gate, and the line was moving quickly.
He shouldn’t touch her. They didn’t have that sort of marriage, but he couldn’t help himself. He placed a hand on her shoulder, then pressed a brief kiss to her forehead.
“Good luck, Inga. Please come back ... we need you.”
I need you . He ought to say it but couldn’t make his tongue utter the words. She gazed up at him with something that looked like genuine affection. Her eyes held a wistful look, almost as if she’d welcome a real goodbye kiss. Almost as if they were a real husband and wife. It was an intoxicating feeling, and he wished things had been different between them.
“Come along, Inga!” Mr. Gerard called, his voice cutting through the din at the station. “We’re ready to board.”
She glanced at the Gerards, where they awaited her on the other side of the fence. Most passengers had already boarded, and they only had a few moments left. Inga lifted the satchel containing his books.
“Thank you for the encyclopedias,” she said, smiling up at him. “I shall study them diligently.”
She turned to hand her ticket to the gate agent, then hurried through the opening. She sent him a final goodbye wave before rushing to catch up with the Gerards.
It did not escape his notice that Inga said nothing about agreeing to return.