Chapter 37
37
Grief hovered over Benedict as he carried out his final duties before leaving. For more than two years, the American Embassy had been acting as an intermediary for the British and the French. Now that work would need to be turned over to other neutral embassies. He rode his horse to the Dutch Embassy to ask them to accept the duties for Great Britain.
Ambassador Jeppesen readily agreed. “I’m sorry it’s come to this,” he said. “Any word when the official declaration of war will occur?”
Benedict shook his head. “President Wilson is addressing Congress tomorrow. That’s probably when it will be announced. Most of the British affairs have been settled, but I’m worried about the civilians still incarcerated at Ruhleben. There are about four thousand of them, and the Germans have lost interest in trades. Perhaps you’ll have better luck than I.”
Benedict’s next visit was to the Spanish Embassy, and it was far more complicated, for Spain would be handling American affairs after their embassy closed. He turned over the telegraph codes to communicate with offices in Washington. Once American soldiers started showing up at German prison camps, the Spanish would be their intermediary.
“I’m glad to assist however I can,” Ramon said.
Benedict shook Ramon’s hand, thankful for Spain’s cooperation. He had another request, however, and it was a painful one. “Ramon, I have a horse that has served me well. Her name is Sterling. She’s a gentle horse, even-tempered and well-trained. She’s got a good heart, and I don’t want—”
“You don’t want the Germans to get her,” Ramon said.
“They’ll make her a war-horse, and I can’t bear for that to happen.”
Being a fine horseman, Ramon understood. He rested a hand on Benedict’s shoulder. “We’ve got extra stalls in our stables. We’ll take good care of her, I promise.”
He bid Ramon farewell, yet it was harder saying goodbye to Sterling. He would leave her with the Spanish starting today. Once the official declaration of war occurred, there wouldn’t be time to bring her here.
Sterling shifted and stamped a hoof as he approached, probably preparing for a ride home. He walked her to the stables and found a grooming brush. She always loved to have her coat brushed, and he carried out the task one final time.
“You were a good friend, Sterling,” he said, continuing to stroke the brush along the strong column of her neck. “We won’t be seeing each other again, but I wish you the best.”
He hoped Spain didn’t get sucked into the war and this gentle horse get shuffled off to the German cavalry. He replaced the grooming brush and gave Sterling a quick kiss on her forelock before walking back to Alton House.
The power and telephone lines had been restored by the time Benedict reached Alton House. Inga was in a good mood as she relayed the news.
“The German ambassador in Washington wired the chancellor to say he was being well-treated, so the Germans let our engineers hook everything back up. And look! The cigarette cases Mr. Gerard ordered were delivered this morning. Aren’t they darling?”
Typical Ambassador Gerard. The platinum cigarette cases were lavishly engraved with a likeness of his signature and lined with red velvet. They would be handed out as farewell gifts.
Heavy thudding of footsteps on the front stoop sounded as Colonel Reyes arrived back from the embassy. He looked tired and despondent. “The train Ambassador Gerard has chartered for us has arrived. We need to leave immediately.”
Inga set the cigarette case down, her blue eyes wide with disillusionment. “A part of me still hoped everything could somehow be fixed.”
He couldn’t help it. He drew her into his arms, holding her tight. Eternal optimists like Inga were bound to have their spirit crushed over and over, but he never liked seeing it happen. He stroked her back, gently rocking her from side to side and not caring a fig that they were in full view of Colonel Reyes. He could tell by her shaky breath she wanted to cry. Didn’t they all?
At last he released Inga. “I’ll help you carry your trunk out.”
Colonel Reyes had already called for a couple of wagons to deliver them to the train station, and soon everyone from Alton House was hoisting their bags into the wagons.
Inga raced to his side. “Benedict, there’s no room for your encyclopedias.”
“I know.” He had hoped to arrange for the postal service to pick up the crate that held them, but there was no more time.
Inga twisted her hands. “But we can’t leave it. We can’t!”
The wagons didn’t have enough room for everyone’s belongings as it was. Inga had to leave all her hatboxes, and Larry was hastily repacking his three bags into a single one. There wasn’t room in the lumbering wagons for Benedict’s crate of books.
“It doesn’t matter,” he assured Inga, and it didn’t. A million American men were about to be drafted into a war Benedict had failed to prevent. The fate of a few books was trivial at this point.
“Benedict!” a familiar voice called from an automobile that just pulled up to the curb. Baron Werner von Eschenbach unfolded his tall frame from the front seat. Several other officers in German uniforms followed. “We’ve been sent by the foreign office to ensure you don’t have any difficulty on your departure.”
Relief made Benedict’s shoulders sag, and he returned the baron’s hearty handshake. “Thank you, my friend.”
“It is the least I can do,” he said. “Without you, I would still be incarcerated in England.”
“I only wish I could have gotten more men released. On both sides.”
A hint of sorrow darkened the baron’s expression. “I fear there will be a great many more decent men who will find themselves trapped behind enemy lines before this is all over.”
No doubt he was correct. As their convoy of automobiles and wagons departed for the train station, Benedict glanced over his shoulder at Alton House. He’d probably never see it or his encyclopedias ever again. It was surely the first of many losses he would face in the coming years.
Inga gawked at the crush of people at the train station, desperate to board the railway car Mr. Gerard had reserved for evacuating Americans. Why hadn’t these people left before today? Many of them were American journalists or staff from other American consulates scattered throughout Germany. In all, more than a hundred people would be sharing their train to Switzerland.
The Gerards were already here, and Inga pressed through the crowd to deliver the box of cigarette cases.
“Can I give one to Baron von Eschenbach?” she asked. “He’s been so kind to us.”
“Of course!” Mr. Gerard said, taking the box. “Take several. We have many friends here who have come to see us off. Make sure they all get one.”
A closer look at the crowd proved him correct. Staff from the Swiss and Dutch Embassies were here. So were the Greeks, the Spanish, and the Norwegians. Even the Bulgarian cook who had brought over the wine was here to see them off.
She approached him and extended a cigarette case. “I’m sorry we never got to know each other. Now we’re on opposite sides of this terrible war.”
The stocky man’s eyes widened in surprise at the elegant gift. “Perhaps we shall meet again someday, in happier times.”
She nodded, blinking back tears as she wove through the crowd, handing out cigarette cases and hugs and farewell wishes to all the wonderful people who’d come to see them off. She would likely never see any of them again. As soon as she was safely back in New York, her foreign adventures would be over. Even so, she would never forget these twilight days in Berlin when the world teetered on the edge between hope and disaster.
She boarded a passenger car, where Mr. Gerard had laid in cigars and champagne. Many of the Americans traveling with them marveled at the bounty and eagerly partook, while Inga stared out the window at the people on the platform as the train pulled away. Staff from the other embassies waved little American flags to see them off. She touched the window, trying to engrave the image in her mind forever.
Tears filled her eyes as the station faded into the distance. Benedict joined her on the bench, folding her hand between his own.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Are we safe yet?”
“Not until we cross the border into Switzerland. This entire train was chartered for Americans leaving the country, and there’s always the possibility of sabotage of the tracks or some other interference.”
The Swiss border was five hundred miles away. They’d need to travel south through the Black Forest, coming close to the tiny village of Rosendorff. She’d probably never see her cousins again either.
Soon the moon rose high in the night sky, and the air grew colder in the railway car. A chill ran through her, and Benedict went in search of a lap blanket from one of the overhead compartments. He spread it over them, then went back to holding her hand.
The chugging of engines mingled with soft chatter from others in the car, but all she thought of was Benedict.
“What’s going to happen to us?” she asked as the train barreled through the night.
There was a long pause. “Once we get to Washington, I will be assigned to another embassy,” he finally said. “You can go on to New York or come with me to my next post. The decision is entirely yours, but I hope you’ll come with me.” His hand tightened around hers beneath the blanket. She already knew what he wanted and couldn’t look at him. It was too painful.
She and Benedict had gotten along quite well, all things considered. She’d come to like his fusty ways, and he enjoyed her humor. Even so, she’d been an embarrassment to him time and again. She didn’t know how to be a diplomat’s wife, and if he was posted to somewhere like Japan or Russia where she didn’t speak the language, things would be even worse.
With the exception of a brief trip home to take her citizenship test, she’d spent two and a half years in Germany. During that time there hadn’t been a single day she hadn’t felt homesick for New York.
If they were to get an annulment, others from Alton House would need to testify that she and Benedict had not been intimate. Although they’d gotten a little careless about showing affection, they never shared a bedroom while at Alton House, and they never consummated their marriage. There mustn’t be any doubt about that, so they’d need to sleep in separate cabins on the voyage home.
Which meant this could be their last night together. She shivered again and slid closer to Benedict, laying her head against his shoulder. This was another moment she wanted to remember forever. No matter how long she lived, there would never be another Benedict Kincaid, and she would miss him.
She must have dozed at some point because she awoke with a crick in her neck from leaning on Benedict’s shoulder. The first hint of dawn lit the horizon behind them.
“Where are we?” she asked him.
“We just crossed into Switzerland,” he answered. “We made it. We’re safe now.”