ECHOES

Danielle Steel

3

CORGI BOOKS

To my beloved children, who areso infinitely precious to me, eachof them so special:Beatrix, Trevor, Todd, Nick, Sam,Victoria, Vanessa, Maxx and Zara.May the echoes of your past, present,and future always be kind and gentle.

With all my love,Mommyd.s.

5

‘It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals. They seem so absurd andimpractical. Yet I cling to them becauseI still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.’

—Anne Frank

‘Whoever saves one life, saves a world entire.’

—Talmud

7

1

It was a lazy summer afternoon as BeataWittgenstein strolled along the shores of LakeGeneva with her parents. The sun was hot and theair still, and as she walked pensively behind them,the birds and insects were making a tremendousracket. Beata and her younger sister Brigitte hadcome to Geneva with their mother for the summer.Beata had just turned twenty, and her sister wasthree years younger. It had been thirteen monthssince the Great War had begun the previoussummer, and this year her father had wanted themout of Germany for their holiday. It was lateAugust 1915, and he had just spent a month therewith them. Both of her brothers were in the armyand had managed to get leave to join them for aweek. Horst was twenty-three and a lieutenant atdivisional headquarters in Munich. Ulm was acaptain in the 105th Infantry Regiment, part ofthe Thirtieth Division, attached to the Fourth

11

Army. He had just turned twenty-seven during theweek he spent with them in Geneva.

It had been nothing short of a miracle to get theentire family together. With the war seeming todevour all the young men in Germany, Beataworried constantly now about her brothers, as didtheir mother. Her father kept telling her that itwould be over soon, but what Beata heard whenshe listened to her father and brothers talk wasvery different. The men were far more aware ofthe bleak times ahead than were the women. Hermother never spoke of the war to her, and Brigittewas far more upset that there were hardly anyhandsome young men to flirt with. Ever since shehad been a little girl, all Brigitte had ever talkedabout was getting married. She had recently fallenin love with one of Horst’s friends from university,and Beata had a strong suspicion that her beauti-ful younger sister would be getting engaged thatwinter.

Beata had no such interests or intentions. Shehad always been the quiet one, studious and farmore serious, and she was much more interestedin her studies than in finding a young man. Herfather always said she was the perfect daughter.Their only moment of dissent had been when shehad insisted she wanted to go to university like herbrothers, which her father said was foolish.Although he himself was serious and scholarly, hedidn’t think that that degree of education was

12

necessary for a woman. He told her he felt surethat in a short time she would be married andtending to a husband and children. She didn’t needto go to university, and he hadn’t allowed it.

Beata’s brothers and their friends were a livelylot, and her sister was pretty and flirtatious. Beatahad always felt different from them, set apart byher quiet ways and passion for education. Ina perfect world, she would have loved to be ateacher, but when she said it, her siblings alwayslaughed at her. Brigitte said that only poor girlsbecame schoolteachers or governesses, and herbrothers added that only ugly ones even thoughtabout it. They loved to tease her, although Beatawas neither poor nor ugly. Her father owned andran one of the most important banks in Cologne,where they lived. They had a large handsomehouse in the Fitzengraben district, and her motherMonika was well known in Cologne, not only forher beauty but for her elegant clothes and jewelry.Like Beata, she was a quiet woman. Monika hadmarried Jacob Wittgenstein when she wasseventeen, and had been happy with him in thetwenty-eight years since then.

The marriage had been arranged by theirrespective families, and was a good one. At thetime their union had been the merger of two con-siderable fortunes, and Jacob had enlarged theirsimpressively since then. He ran the bank with aniron fist and was almost clairvoyant about the

13

banking business. Not only was their futuresecure, but so were those of their heirs. Everythingabout the Wittgensteins was solid. The onlyunpredictable element in their life now was thesame one worrying everyone these days. The warwas a great concern to them, particularly toMonika, with two sons in the army. The time theyhad shared in Switzerland had been a comfortingrespite, for the parents as well as the children.

Ordinarily, they spent their summers inGermany, at the seashore, but this year Jacob hadwanted to get them all out of Germany for Julyand August. He had even spoken to one of thecommanding generals whom he knew well, andgently asked the enormous favor of having both ofhis sons on leave and able to join them. Thegeneral had quietly arranged it. The Wittgensteinswere that great rarity, a Jewish family that enjoyednot only great wealth but also enormous power.Beata was aware of it but paid little attention toher family’s importance. She was far moreinterested in her studies. And although Brigittesometimes fretted over the constraints theirorthodoxy put on them, Beata, in her own quietway, was deeply religious, which pleased herfather. As a young man, he had shocked his ownfamily by saying that he wanted to be a rabbi. Hisfather had talked sense into him, and at the appro-priate time, he had joined the family bank, alongwith his father, brothers, uncles, and grandfather

14

before them. Theirs was a family steeped intradition, and although Jacob’s father had a greatrespect for the rabbinical life, he had no intentionof sacrificing his son to it. And like the obedientson he was, Jacob went to work at the bank, andmarried shortly thereafter. At fifty, he was fiveyears older than Beata’s mother.

The entire family agreed that the decision tosummer in Switzerland this year had been a goodone. The Wittgensteins had many friends here, andJacob and Monika had attended a number ofparties, as had their children. Jacob knew every-one in the Swiss banking community and had goneto Lausanne and Zurich to see friends in thosecities as well. Whenever possible, they took thegirls with them. While Horst and Ulm were there,they spent as much time as they could enjoyingtheir company. Ulm was leaving for the frontwhen he got back, and Horst was stationed atdivisional headquarters in Munich, which heseemed to find vastly amusing. In spite of theserious upbringing he’d had, Horst was somethingof a playboy. He and Brigitte had much more incommon with each other than either of them didwith Beata.

As she fell behind the others, walking slowlyalong the lake, her oldest brother Ulm hung backand fell into step beside her. He was alwaysprotective of her, perhaps because he was sevenyears older. Beata knew he respected her gentle

15

nature and loving ways.‘What are you thinking about, Bea? You look

awfully serious walking along by yourself. Whydon’t you join us?’

Her mother and sister were far ahead by then,talking about fashion and the men Brigitte hadfound handsome at the previous week’s parties.The men in the family were talking about the onlysubjects that interested them – which these dayswere the war and banking. After the war, Ulm wasgoing back to work at the bank again, as he hadfor four years before. Their father said that Horstwas going to have to stop playing, become serious,and join them. Horst had promised that as soon asthe war was over, he would. He was only twenty-two when war was declared the year before, andhe had assured his father that when the war wasover, he’d be ready. And Jacob had said severaltimes recently that it was time for Ulm to getmarried. The one thing Jacob expected of hischildren, or anyone in his immediate circleactually, was that they obey him. He expected thatof his wife as well, and she had never disappointedhim. Nor had his children, with the exception ofHorst, who had been dragging his feet aboutworking when he went into the army. The lastthing on Horst’s mind at the moment wasmarriage. In fact, the only one interested in thatprospect was Brigitte. Beata hadn’t met a manwho had swept her off her feet yet. Although she

16

thought that many of her parents’ friends’ sonswere handsome, many of the young ones seemedsilly, and the older ones frightened her a bit andoften seemed too somber. She was in no hurry tobe married. Beata often said that if she marriedanyone, she hoped he would be a scholar, and notnecessarily a banker. There was no way she couldsay that to her father, although she had confessedit to her mother and sister many times. Brigittesaid that sounded boring. The handsome youngfriend of Horst’s she had her eye on was asfrivolous as she was, and from an equally im-portant banking family. Jacob was intending tomeet with the boy’s father in September to discussit, although Brigitte didn’t know that. But so far,no suitor had emerged for Beata, nor did she reallywant one. She rarely spoke to anyone at parties.She went dutifully with her parents, wearing thedresses her mother chose for her. She was alwayspolite to their hosts, and immensely relieved whenit was time to go home. Unlike Brigitte, who hadto be dragged away, complaining that it had beenfar too early to leave the party, and why did herfamily have to be so dull and boring. Horst was incomplete agreement with her, and always hadbeen. Beata and Ulm were the serious ones.

‘Have you had fun in Geneva?’ Ulm asked Beataquietly. He was the only one who made a seriouseffort to speak to her, and find out what she wasthinking. Horst and Brigitte were far too busy

17

playing and having fun to spend time on moreerudite subjects with their sister.

‘Yes, I have.’ Beata smiled shyly up at him. Eventhough he was her brother, Beata was alwaysdazzled by how handsome he was, and how kind.He was a gentle person, and looked exactly liketheir father. Ulm was tall and blond and athletic,as Jacob had been in his youth. Ulm had blue eyesand features that often confused people, becausehe didn’t look Jewish. Everyone knew they were,of course, and in the social world of Cologne, theywere accepted in even the most aristocratic circles.Several of the Hohenlohes, and Thurn und Thaxiswere childhood friends of their father’s. TheWittgensteins were so established and so respectedthat all doors were open to them. But Jacob hadalso made it clear to all his children that when thetime came for them to marry, the spouses theybrought home would be Jewish. It was not even asubject for discussion; nor would any of them eventhink to question it. They were accepted for whoand what they were, and there were many eligibleyoung men and women in their own circles for theWittgenstein children to choose from. When thetime came for them to marry, they would marryone of them.

Ulm and Beata didn’t even look remotely relatedas they walked along the lake. Her brothers andsister looked exactly like their father, they were alltall blondes with blue eyes and fine features. Beata

18

looked like their mother, in total contrast to them.Beata Wittgenstein was a tiny, frail-looking,delicate brunette, with raven-dark hair and skinthe color of porcelain. The only feature she sharedwith the others was enormous blue eyes, althoughhers were darker than her brothers’ or Brigitte’s.Her mother’s eyes were dark brown, but otherthan that minor difference, Beata was the image ofher mother, which secretly delighted her father. Hewas still so much in love with his wife after nearlytwenty-nine years that just seeing Beata smile athim reminded him of when her mother was thesame age in the early years of their marriage, andthe similarity never failed to touch his heart. As aresult, he had an enormous soft spot for Beata,and Brigitte frequently complained that Beata washis favorite. He let her do whatever she wanted.But what Beata wanted was harmless. Brigitte’splans were considerably racier than her oldersister’s. Beata was content to stay home and reador study, in fact, she preferred it. The only time herfather had actually gotten annoyed with her wason one occasion when Jacob found her reading aKing James version of the Bible.

‘What is that about?’ he asked with a sternexpression, as he saw what she was reading. Shehad been sixteen at the time and was fascinated byit. She had read quite a lot of the Old Testamentbefore that.

‘It’s interesting, Papa. The stories are wonderful,

19

and so many things in it are exactly what webelieve.’ She preferred the New Testament to theOld. Her father found it less than amusing andhad taken it away from her.

He didn’t want his daughter reading a ChristianBible, and he had complained about it to hermother, and suggested that Monika keep a closereye on what she was reading. In fact, Beata readeverything she could get her hands on, includingAristotle and Plato. She was a voracious readerand loved the Greek philosophers. Even her fatherhad to admit that if she had been a man, shewould have been an extraordinary scholar. Whathe wanted for her now, as he did for Ulm and evenfor the other two sometime soon, was for her toget married. He was beginning to fear that shewould become spinsterish and too serious if shewaited much longer. He had a few ideas he wantedto explore in that vein that winter, but the war haddisrupted everything. So many men were servingin the army, and many young people they knewhad been killed in the past year. The uncertainty ofthe future was deeply disturbing.

Her father thought that Beata would do wellwith a man who was older than she was. Hewanted a mature man for Beata, a man who couldappreciate her intellect and share her interests. Hewasn’t opposed to that idea for Brigitte either, whocould use a strong hand to control her. Althoughhe loved all his children, he was extremely proud

20

of his oldest daughter. He considered himself aman of wisdom and compassion. He was the kindof person others never hesitated to turn to. Beatahad a deep love and respect for him, as she did forher mother, although she secretly admitted to theothers that their mother was easier to talk to, anda little less daunting than their father. Their fatherwas as serious as Beata, and often disapproved ofhis younger daughter’s frivolity.

‘I wish you didn’t have to go back to the war,’Beata said sadly, as she chatted with Ulm whilethey continued walking. The others had turnedback, and now she and Ulm were far ahead ofthem, instead of straggling behind.

‘I hate to go back too, but I think it will be oversoon.’ He smiled at her reassuringly. He didn’tbelieve that, but it was the sort of thing one saidto women. Or at least he did. ‘I should be able toget leave again at Christmas.’ She nodded, think-ing that it seemed a lifetime away, and unable tobear the thought of how awful it would be ifsomething happened to him. More than she evertold him, she adored him. She loved Horst too, buthe seemed more like a silly younger brother thanan older one. He loved to tease her, and he alwaysmade her laugh. What she and Ulm shared wasdifferent. They continued to chat pleasantly all theway back to the hotel, and that night they shareda final dinner before the boys left the next day. Asalways, Horst amused them endlessly with his

21

imitations of everyone they’d met, and his out-rageous stories about their friends.

All three of the men left the next day, and thethree women stayed for the last three weeks oftheir holiday in Geneva. Jacob wanted them tostay in Switzerland as long as possible, althoughBrigitte was beginning to get bored. But Beata andher mother were perfectly content to be there.Brigitte and her mother went shopping one after-noon, and Beata said she would stay at the hotel,as she had a headache. In truth, she didn’t, but shefound it tiresome shopping with them. Brigittealways tried on everything in the shops, ordereddresses, hats, and shoes. Impressed by her goodtaste and keen fashion sense, their mother alwaysindulged her. And after they exhausted thedressmakers and cobblers and milliners and theshops that made exquisite gloves, they wouldmake the rounds of the jewelers. Beata knew theywouldn’t be home until dinner, and she wascontent to sit in the sun, reading in the garden onher own.

After lunch, she went down to the lake andwalked along the same path they had taken everyday since they’d been there. It was a trifle coolerthan the day before, and she was wearing a whitesilk dress, a hat to shield her from the sun, and apale blue shawl the color of her eyes, draped overher shoulders. She was humming to herself as shestrolled along. Most of the hotel guests were at

22

lunch, or in town, and she had the path to herself,as she walked with her head down, thinking abouther brothers. She heard a sound behind hersuddenly, looked up, and was startled when shesaw a tall young man who walked briskly past heron the path, and smiled as he did so. He was head-ing in the same direction, and she was so surprisedas he brushed by her that she took a rapid step tothe side, stumbled, and turned her ankle. Itsmarted for a minute but didn’t seem serious, as hequickly reached a hand out and caught her beforeshe fell.

‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, andcertainly didn’t mean to knock you over.’ Helooked instantly apologetic and concerned, andBeata noted that he was astonishingly handsome.Tall, fair, with eyes the color of her own, and longpowerful arms and athletic shoulders. He kept afirm grasp on her arm as he spoke to her. Sherealized her hat was slightly askew from theirencounter. She straightened it, while secretlyglancing at him. He looked a little bit older thanher older brother. He was wearing white slacksand a dark blue blazer, a navy tie, and a verygood-looking straw hat that made him look some-what rakish.

‘Thank you, I’m fine. It was silly of me. I didn’thear you in time to get out of your way.’

‘Or see me, until I nearly knocked you down.I’m afraid it was a deplorable performance on my

23

part. Are you all right? How’s your ankle?’ Helooked sympathetic and kind.

‘It’s fine. You caught me before I did any realdamage to it.’ He had spoken to her in French,and she responded in the same language. She hadlearned French at school and polished it diligentlysince then. Her father had also insisted that theylearn English, and he thought they should speakItalian and Spanish as well. Beata had studiedboth but never really perfected either. Her Englishwas passable, but her French was fluent.

‘Would you like to sit down for a moment?’ Hepointed to a bench near them, with a peacefulview of the lake, and he seemed reluctant to let goof her arm. He acted as though he was afraid shewould fall over if he let go of his firm grip on her,and she smiled at him.

‘Really, I’m fine.’ But the prospect of sitting nextto him for a moment appealed to her. It wasn’t thesort of thing she normally did, in fact she hadnever done anything like it, but he was so pleasantand polite and seemed so remorseful over theirnear-accident that she felt sorry for him. And itappeared harmless to sit and chat with him for aminute before continuing her walk. She hadnothing to rush back to the hotel for, she knewthat her mother and sister would be gone forhours. She let him lead her to the bench, and he satdown beside her with a respectful distancebetween them.

24

‘Are you truly all right?’ He looked down at herankle, peering just beneath the hem of her skirt,and was relieved to see that it didn’t appear to beswollen.

‘I promise.’ She smiled at him.‘I meant to just slip past you and not disturb

you. I should have said something or warned you.I was a million miles away, thinking about thisdamnable war, it’s such an awful thing.’ He lookedtroubled as he said it, and sat back against thebench as she watched him. She had never met any-one even remotely like him. He looked like ahandsome prince in a fairy tale, and he wasremarkably friendly. There seemed to be no airs orpretensions about him. He looked like one ofUlm’s friends, although he was far better looking.

‘You’re not Swiss then?’ she asked with interest.‘I’m French,’ he said simply, and as he said it,

she frowned and said nothing. ‘Is that awful? Mygrandfather is Swiss actually, my mother’s father.That’s why I’m here. He died two weeks ago, andI had to come and help settle the estate with mybrother and parents. They gave me a leave to doit.’ He was remarkably easy and open, withoutbeing presumptuous or inappropriately familiar.He seemed very well-bred and aristocratic, andextremely polite.

‘No, it’s not awful at all,’ she answered honestly,as her eyes looked directly into his. ‘I’m German.’She half-expected him to leap from the bench and

25

tell her he hated Germans. They were enemies inthe war after all, and she had no idea how hewould react to her confession.

‘Do you expect me to blame you for the war?’he asked gently, smiling at her. She was a younggirl, and incredibly pretty. He thought her trulybeautiful, and as he spoke to her, he was touchedby her apologetic expression. She seemed like aremarkable young woman, and he was suddenlyglad he had nearly knocked her over. ‘Did you do this? Is this dreadful war your fault,mademoiselle? Should I be angry at you?’ heteased her, and she laughed along with him.

‘I hope not,’ she said, smiling. ‘Are you in thearmy?’ she inquired. He had mentioned being onleave.

‘In the cavalry. I attended the equestrianacademy called Saumur.’ Beata knew it was whereall the aristocrats became officers of the cavalry,which was a most prestigious unit.

‘That must be interesting.’ She liked horses andhad ridden a lot as a young girl. She loved ridingwith her brothers, particularly Ulm. Horst alwayswent wild and drove his horses into a frenzy,which in turn spooked hers. ‘My brothers are inthe army, too.’

He looked at her pensively for a long moment,lost in her blue eyes, which were darker than hisown. He had never seen hair as dark contrasted byskin as white. She looked like a painting sitting

26

there on the bench. ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if troublesbetween nations could be resolved as simply asthis, two people sitting on a bench on a summerafternoon, looking out at a lake. We could talkthings out, and agree, instead of the way thingsare, with young men dying on battlefields.’ Whathe said made her knit her brows again, he hadreminded her of how vulnerable her brotherswere.

‘It would be nice. My older brother thinks it willbe over soon.’

‘I wish I could agree,’ he said politely. ‘I fearthat once you put weapons in men’s hands, theydon’t let go of them easily. I think this could go onfor years.’

‘I hope you’re wrong,’ she said quietly.‘So do I,’ and then he looked embarrassed

again. ‘I’ve been incredibly rude. I am Antoine deVallerand.’ He stood up, bowed, and sat downagain. And she smiled as he did.

‘I am Beata Wittgenstein.’ She pronounced theW like a V.

‘How is it that you speak such perfect French?’he asked. ‘Your French is almost flawless, withoutany accent. In fact, you sound Parisian.’ He wouldnever have guessed she was German. He wasfascinated by her, and it never occurred to him, evenonce he heard her name, that she was Jewish. Unlikemost people of his ilk and milieu, it made nodifference to him. He never gave it a thought. All he

27

saw in her was a beautiful intelligent young woman.‘I learned French in school.’ She smiled at him.‘No, you didn’t, or if you did, you are far more

clever than I. I learned English in school, or sothey say, and I can’t speak a word. And myGerman is absolutely terrible. I don’t have yourgift. Most French people don’t. We speak Frenchand not much else. We assume the whole worldwill learn French so they can speak to us, and howfortunate that you did. Do you speak English,too?’ He somehow suspected that she did.Although they didn’t know each other, and hecould tell that she was shy, she looked extremelybright and surprisingly at ease. She was amazedherself by how comfortable she was with him.Even though he was a stranger, she felt safe withhim.

‘I speak English,’ she admitted, ‘though not aswell as French.’

‘Do you go to school?’ She looked young tohim. He was thirty-two, twelve years older thanshe.

‘No. Not anymore. I finished,’ she answeredshyly. ‘But I read a great deal. I would have likedto go to university, but my father wouldn’t let me.’

‘Why not?’ he asked, and then caught himselfwith a smile. ‘He thinks you should get marriedand have babies. You don’t need to go touniversity. Am I correct?’

‘Yes, completely.’ She beamed at him.

28

‘And you don’t want to get married?’ He wasbeginning to remind her more and more of Ulm.She felt as though she and Antoine were oldfriends, and he seemed to feel equally at ease withher. She felt able to be completely honest with him,which was rare for her. She was usually extremelyshy with men.

‘I don’t want to get married unless I fall in lovewith someone,’ she said simply, and he nodded.

‘That sounds sensible. Do your parents agreewith that idea?’

‘I’m not sure. Their marriage was arranged forthem, and they think that’s a good thing. Theywant my brothers to get married, too.’

‘How old are your brothers?’‘Twenty-three and twenty-seven. One of them is

quite serious, and the other just wants to have fun,and is a bit wild.’ She smiled cautiously atAntoine.

‘Sounds like my brother and I.’‘How old is he?’‘Five years younger. He is twenty-seven, like

your older brother, and I am a very old man ofthirty-two. They’ve given up hope for me.’ Anduntil that moment, so had he.

‘Which one are you?’‘Which one?’ He looked blank for a moment

and then understood. ‘Ah yes, he’s the wild one.I’m the boring one.’ And then he caught himself.‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest that your older

29

brother is boring. Just serious, I imagine. I’vealways been the responsible one, my brother justisn’t. He’s too busy having fun to even think aboutbeing responsible. Maybe he’s right. I’m muchquieter than he is.’

‘And you’re not married?’ she asked withinterest. It was the oddest chance meeting. Theywere asking each other things they would neverhave dared to inquire about in a ballroom or adrawing room, or at a dinner party. But here,sitting on a bench, looking out at the lake, itseemed perfectly all right to ask him anything shewanted. She was curious about him. There was alovely, decent feeling about him, in spite of hisstriking good looks. For all she knew, he was therakish one and he was lying to her, but it didn’tseem that way. She believed everything he said,and had the feeling he felt the same way about her.

‘No, I’m not married,’ he said with a look ofamusement. ‘I’ve thought about it once or twice,but I never felt it was the right thing, in spite of agreat deal of pressure from my family. Oldest sonand all that. I don’t want to make a mistake andmarry the wrong woman. I’d rather be alone, so Iam.’

‘I agree.’ She nodded, looking surprisinglydetermined. At times, she seemed almost childliketo him, and at other times, as she spoke to him, hecould see that she had very definite ideas, likeabout marriage and going to university.

30

‘What would you have studied, if they’d let yougo to university?’ he asked with interest, and shelooked dreamy as she thought about it.

‘Philosophy. The ancient Greeks, I think.Religion perhaps, or the philosophy of religion. Iread the Bible once from beginning to end.’ Helooked impressed. She was obviously a brilliantgirl, as well as being beautiful, and so very easy totalk to.

‘And what did you think? I can’t say I’ve read it,except in snips and bits, and mostly at weddingsand funerals. I seem to spend most of my time onhorses, and helping my father run our property. Ihave a lifelong romance with the earth.’ It washard to convey to her how much his land and hisown turf meant to him. It had been bred intohim.

‘I think a lot of men do,’ Beata said quietly.‘Where is your family’s property?’ She was enjoy-ing talking to him and didn’t want it to end.

‘It’s in Dordogne. Horse country. It’s nearPérigord, near Bordeaux, if that means anything.’His eyes lit up just speaking of it, and she couldsee what it meant to him.

‘I’ve never been there, but it must be beautiful ifyou love it so much.’

‘It is,’ he assured her. ‘And where do you live inGermany?’

‘Cologne.’‘I’ve been there,’ he said, looking pleased. ‘I like

31

Bavaria very much, too. And I’ve had some lovelytimes in Berlin.’

‘That’s where my brother Horst wants to live, inBerlin. He can’t, of course. He has to go to workfor my father after the war, he thinks it’s horrible,but he doesn’t have any choice. My grandfatherand my father and his brothers, and my brotherUlm all work there. It’s a bank. I suppose it isn’tmuch fun, but they all seem to like it well enough.I think it would be interesting,’ she said, and hesmiled at her. She was full of bright intelligentideas, and interest in the world. Antoine wascertain, looking at her, and listening to her, that ifshe had gone to university, or been able to work atthe bank, she would have done well. He was stillimpressed that she had read the Bible as a younggirl.

‘What do you like to do?’ he asked with interest.‘I love to read,’ she said simply, ‘and to learn

about things. I’d love to be a writer one day, butof course I can’t do that either.’ No man she wouldmarry would tolerate her doing something likethat, she would have to take care of him and theirchildren.

‘Maybe you will one day. I suppose it alldepends on who you marry, or if you do. Do youhave sisters as well, or only brothers?’

‘I have a younger sister, Brigitte, she’s seventeen.She loves going to parties, and dancing and dress-ing up, she can hardly wait to get married. She

32

always tells me how boring I am,’ Beata said withan impish grin, which made him want to reach outand hug her, even though they hadn’t beenproperly introduced. He was suddenly so pleasedthat he had nearly knocked her down. It wasbeginning to seem like a stroke of good fortunethat he had, and he had the feeling that Beatathought so, too.

‘My brother thinks I’m very boring. But I musttell you, I find you anything but boring, Beata. Ilove talking to you.’

‘I like talking to you.’ She smiled shyly at him,wondering if she should go back to the hotel. Theyhad been sitting on the bench together by then forquite a long time. Perhaps longer than theyshould. They sat in silence for a long moment,admiring the lake, and then he turned to her again.

‘Would you like me to walk you back to thehotel? Your family might be worried about you.’

‘My mother took my sister shopping. I don’tthink they’ll be back till dinnertime, but perhaps Ishould go back,’ she said responsibly, although shehated to leave.

They both stood up reluctantly, and he inquiredhow her ankle felt. He was pleased to hear that itdidn’t bother her, and he offered her his arm, asthey walked slowly back toward the hotel. Shetucked her hand into his arm, and they chatted asthey strolled, talking about a variety of things.They both agreed that they hated parties generally

33

but loved to dance. He was pleased to hear thatshe liked horses and had ridden to hounds. Theyboth liked boats and had a passion for the sea. Shesaid she never got seasick, which he found hard tobelieve. But she confessed that she was afraid ofdogs, since she’d been bitten as a small child. Andthey both agreed that they loved Italy, although hesaid that he was extremely fond of Germany, too,which wasn’t something he could admit openly atthe moment. The war, and the fact that theirrespective countries were currently enemies,seemed of no importance to either of them as theygot to know each other. Antoine looked seriouslydisappointed as they got back to the hotel. Hehated leaving her, although he had plans to meethis family for dinner. He would have liked tospend many more hours with her and was clearlylingering, as they stood in front of the hotel, look-ing at each other.

‘Would you like to have tea?’ he suggested, andher eyes lit up at the idea.

‘That would be very nice, thank you.’ He led herto the terrace where they were serving tea, andelegant women were sitting together and chatting,or prosperous-looking couples were eating littlesandwiches and speaking in hushed tones inFrench, German, Italian, and English.

They shared a very proper high tea, and finally,unable to drag it out any longer, he walked herinto the lobby, and stood looking down at her. She

34

seemed tiny and appeared fragile to him, but infact after hours of talking to her, he knew that shewas spirited and more than capable of defendingher ideas. She had strong opinions about manythings, and so far he agreed with most of them.And the ones he didn’t agree with amused him.There was nothing boring about her. He found herincredibly exciting and breathtakingly beautiful.All he knew was that he had to see her again.

‘Do you suppose your mother would allow youto have lunch with me tomorrow?’ He lookedhopeful, as he longed to touch her hand but didn’tdare. Even more, he would have loved to touchher face. She had exquisite skin.

‘I’m not sure,’ Beata said honestly. It was goingto be difficult to explain how they met, and thefact that they had spent so much time together,chatting, without a chaperone. But nothing un-toward had happened, and he was unfailinglypolite and obviously well-born. There was nothingthey could object to, except the fact that he wasFrench, which was admittedly inconvenient at themoment. But this was Switzerland, after all. Itwasn’t like meeting him at home. And just becausetheir countries were enemies didn’t mean he was abad man. But she wasn’t sure her mother wouldsee it that way, in fact she was almost positive shewouldn’t, since her brothers were participating ina war against the French and could be killed bythem at any moment. Her parents were rigidly

35

patriotic and not necessarily famous for their openminds, as she knew well, and Antoine feared.Beata was also aware that if he presented himselfas a suitor, her family would consider him in-eligible because he was obviously not Jewish. Butworrying about that seemed premature.

‘Perhaps your mother and sister would join usfor lunch, too?’ he asked hopefully. He had nointention of giving up. A war seemed like a smallobstacle to him at this point. Beata was toowonderful and magical to lose over something likethat.

‘I’ll ask them,’ Beata said quietly. She was goingto do more than ask, she had every intention offighting like a tiger to see him again, and she wasafraid she might have to. Beata knew that in hermother’s eyes, he would have two major strikesagainst him, his nationality and his faith.

‘Should I call your mother and ask her myself?’He looked concerned.

‘No, I’ll do it,’ she said, shaking her head. Theywere suddenly allies in an unspoken conspiracy,the continuation of their friendship, or whateverthis was. Beata didn’t think he was flirting withher and only hoped that they could be friends. Shedidn’t dare imagine more.

‘May I call you tonight?’ he asked, lookingnervous, and she gave him her room number. Shewas sharing the room with Brigitte.

‘We’re eating at the hotel tonight.’ For once.

36

‘So are we,’ he said with a look of surprise.‘Maybe we’ll see each other, and I can introducemyself to your mother and sister.’ And then helooked worried. ‘How shall we say we met?’ Theirchance meeting had been fortuitous, but notentirely decorous. And their long conversationhad been unusual, to say the least. Beata laughedat the question. ‘I’ll just say you knocked medown, and then picked me up.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be impressed by that. Will yousay I pushed you into the mud, or just that Idropped you into the lake to clean you up afteryou fell?’ Beata laughed like a child at hissuggestions, and Antoine looked happier than hehad in years. ‘You really are very silly. You couldat least tell her that I caught your arm and keptyou from falling, even though I did try to knockyou over as I rushed past.’ But he no longerregretted it. The minor mishap had served himwell. ‘And you could have the decency to tell yourmother that I properly introduced myself.’

‘Maybe I will.’ For a moment, Beata lookedgenuinely worried as she looked up at him, some-what embarrassed by what she was about tosuggest. ‘Do you suppose it would be terribleto tell her you’re Swiss?’

He hesitated and then nodded. He could seethat his nationality was a problem for her, or shefeared it would be for her mother. What was goingto be a much bigger problem was that he was a

37

French nobleman and not Jewish, but Beata wouldnever have said that to him. She was cherishing theillusion that since they were just friends, hermother wouldn’t mind that much. What harm wasthere in making friends with a Christian? Severalof her parents’ friends were. It was an argumentshe planned to use if her mother objected to Beatahaving lunch with him.

‘I am a quarter Swiss, after all. I’ll just have toremember not to count in front of your mother, orI might say soixante-dix instead of septante. Thatwould be a bit of a giveaway. But I don’t mind ifit’s easier for you to say I’m Swiss. It’s a shamethat has to be an issue for any of us these days.’The truth was that his own family would behorrified that he was making friends with aGerman girl and, worse than that, was totallysmitten by her. There was no love lost these daysbetween the Germans and the French. But hedidn’t see why he and Beata should pay a price forit. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll work it out,’ he said gentlyto her, as she looked up at him with her enormousblue eyes. ‘It’s all right, Beata. I promise. One wayor another, we will see each other tomorrow.’ Hewas not going to let anything stand between them,and she felt totally protected as she stood lookingup at Antoine. They were nearly strangers to eachother, and yet she knew that she already trustedhim. Something remarkable and wonderful hadhappened between them that afternoon. ‘I’ll call

38

you tonight,’ he said softly, as she stepped into theelevator, and turned to smile at him as the elevatoroperator closed the doors. He was still standing,looking at her, as the doors closed, and she rodeupstairs, knowing that in a single afternoon herwhole life had changed. And Antoine was smilingto himself as he left the hotel.

39

Originally published in Great Britain by Bantam Press,a division of Transworld Publishers

PRINTING HISTORY

Bantam Press edition published 2004Corgi edition published 2005

Copyright © Danielle Steel 2004

The right of Danielle Steel to be identified as the author ofthis work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77

and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All the characters in this book are fictitious,and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

is purely coincidental.

Condition of SaleThis book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not,by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out orotherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other

than that in which it is published and without a similarcondition including this condition being imposed on the

subsequent purchaser.

Set in 11/13pt Sabon by Falcon Oast Graphic Art Ltd.

ECHOESA CORGI BOOK : 9780552149945

17 19 20 18 16 14

Corgi Books are published by Transworld Publishers,61–63 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA,

A Random House Group Company.

Addresses for Random House Group Ltd companies outside the UKcan be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk

The Random House Group Ltd Reg. No. 954009.

Printed and bound in Great Britain byCox & Wyman Ltd, Reading, Berkshire.

The Random House Group Limited supports The Forest StewardshipCouncil (FSC), the leading international forest certification organisation.

All our titles that are printed on Greenpeace approved FSC certified papercarry the FSC logo. Our paper procurement policy can be found at:

www.rbooks.co.uk/environment.

15