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“Oh, yes,” Cecily replied, easing a little. “September roses, lush pink, so they can be seen, not lost against the dress, and framed with a little greenery…”
“Perfect,” Margot said, although she would have said that if it had been a bunch of asparagus. “And from the look of the sky, no chance at all of rain.”
Cecily picked at her food, as if her throat were closed and she could not have swallowed it.
“I probably won’t know many of the guests,” Margot went on. “I may know some of your friends, if they were here when I was.”
“Not many of them are coming,” Cecily said hastily.
Margot could see from her face that it was an apology.
“I…I’ve lost touch with many of them,” she added.
Margot wondered what that really meant. Did she not want to introduce th
em to Hans because they would not approve? It might even endanger her. Many people would surely prefer that the Gestapo did not know their names, see even their smallest mistakes or disloyalties. Or was it that Hans might not approve of them? At least in the past her friends were an eclectic group, rejoicing in their differences and conflicting ideas. That was a dangerous occupation now, but it was hard to give up the ideas of a lifetime—even a short one.
Did she miss them? Had everybody changed a little with hunger, despair, and then this new order? Everyone had hostages to fortune: family, friends, teachers, priests, simply the vulnerable. Were the circles getting smaller?
The silence was deepening over the breakfast table. Cecily took a mouthful and swallowed it with difficulty.
The maid brought Margot’s breakfast, and Margot thanked her.
“I expect Hans has many friends,” Margot remarked. “There must be some you particularly like and they will be so happy for him.”
Cecily smiled. “Yes. Some of them are really nice. Especially those he has known a long time.”
“Tell me about them.”
The rest of the meal passed more easily. Cordell did not interrupt, but as Margot rose to leave, he gave her a quick look of gratitude. He had not spoken, but the warmth in his expression was unmistakable.
Margot found Winifred and helped her, mostly by taking her mind off the details, which had already been dealt with. The cars were ordered and checked on. The invitations to the evening’s dinner were all sent, acknowledged, and replied to. The meal was catered and really more to do with the groom’s family, the Beckendorffs, than with the bride’s.
Winifred would go to the church early. Cordell would bring Cecily at the appointed hour. Margot would wait with Cecily, to make sure everything was perfect and that she was not alone in attending to the small details.
They had plenty of time. Margot went to the library beyond the study to fetch a book Cecily had decided she wanted to take with her on the honeymoon. She had just found it and was going to leave again, when she heard voices in the study: Roger Cordell and another man. They were speaking in German.
What an odd time for anyone to visit! The wedding began in less than an hour. Odd, certainly, but also a time when someone could be sure to find Cordell alone! Accident, or intention? She could not leave now without calling attention to herself. She had already heard too much.
“Are you sure about this? Once started, you know, there will be no going back,” the stranger said.
“Do you think I haven’t thought about it, weighed it again and again?” Cordell answered, his voice urgent, even frightened. “It always comes back to the same.”
“I can’t make promises,” the man replied.
“For God’s sake, do you think I don’t know that? I’ve watched the bloody thing take form, grow like some sick incubus, feeding on the weak, the vulnerable, the frightened, until it can consume anybody…”
Margot stiffened. What on earth was he talking about? His voice grated with emotion. It reminded her of people during the air raids, during the war. There was a deep, devouring fear.
“I know. I know!” the other voice replied. “And you know what the cost will be, if we do this, and we’re caught?”
“Of course I do,” Roger said tartly. “But have you thought of the cost if we don’t?”
“Nothing’s guaranteed. The Fatherland Front has a lot of power and it’s growing.”
“Yes. And I think of the cost if we don’t even try. But it will be paid, sooner or later, by everyone. Not only by us or our children, but their children, too.”
“Has Cecily any idea…?”
