Page 19 of Whispers At Dawn
CHAPTER 9
Lizzie immediately liked Jack’s uncle and could see he was a forceful character with a sense of humour. A maid tapped on the door and served breakfast, and Lizzie devoured the poached egg on a piece of black bread. Eggs were hard to come by back home, and Lizzie’s tastebuds sang a symphony as she ate the freshly laid egg.
‘We have hung onto a few of our own hens,’ said Luc.
‘How fortunate,’ Lizzie said.
‘Yes, it is. As long as we can keep the German army at bay, otherwise they will take them all for themselves.’
‘Coffee?’ Luc asked.
‘Thank you,’ Lizzie said, sipping the hot, seedy coffee with relish. It didn’t seem to matter where she went, the coffee was just as bad, but she’d grown used to the bitter flavour.
Jack told Luc why they had come and asked him to pretend Jack was a distant cousin from Brittany, rather than his sister’s son.
‘Right, I think I’m grasping the essence of your story. What part do you want me to play?’ Luc asked, his eyes gleaming.
‘The last thing we mean to do is put you in danger, but clearly there is an element of risk if we are discovered.’
Luc gazed out over his vineyards and his eyes wandered to the lavender haze that cast a riot of glorious colour over the fields in the distance.
‘Those Nazi bastards want all this for themselves. I’d rather die than let them have it, so count me in. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.’
‘Thank you. I thought you didn’t like the English, Uncle,’ Jack said in a low murmur, one eyebrow raised.
‘The English are the least of my troubles now. We’ve got our own mini-Hitlers in France who are only too happy to throw in their lot with the Thousand-Year Reich, if it means they line their pockets. They’ve forgotten where their loyalties lie and have made a pact with the devil.’
Jack listened as he finished his breakfast.
Luc cleared his throat. ‘You’d better call me Luc, my boy. Start as we mean to go on. One slip up could cost us dearly.’ His eyes moved to Lizzie. ‘And you, too. Please call me Luc, and know you are very welcome here. After this dark period in our history is over, you shall call me uncle.’
‘Thank you,’ said Lizzie, relieved they were off to a smooth start. Things could easily have gone differently if Luc wasn’t keen or even willing to cooperate. They had formulated a backup plan, but staying at the château as Luc’s family was vastly preferable to fending for themselves in Toulouse. Now they would have a safe base from which to operate and begin building their new network.
Jack and Lizzie exchanged a jubilant look.
‘Are you from London too?’ Luc asked Lizzie, his voice low, as he refilled their cups.
Lizzie shook her head. ‘I moved to London with my family, before the Germans invaded the Channel Islands. I was born in Jersey, actually.’
Luc’s eyes registered surprise. ‘How wonderful. So, you’re a little bit French, one might say.’
‘A little bit,’ Lizzie agreed, her mouth curving into an indulgent smile. If he wanted her to be French, she would be French. She’d always felt half French, anyway. Her father could trace his ancestors back ten centuries in France.
‘You speak our language beautifully,’ Luc said.
Jack said, ‘That’s how we met. Lizzie was a translator at the start of the war. It’s probably best we don’t tell you more. For now, let us be your distant cousins from Brittany.’
‘Well, that’s close to Jersey. I see why you picked it for your cover. What a clever pair you are and so well-suited. Are you really married or is that part of the charade?’
Jack answered smoothly without missing a beat and laid his hand on Lizzie’s. ‘We’re really married. It was love at first sight. It just so happens we work well together, too.’
‘How romantic,’ Luc said, and Lizzie wondered whether he believed them or was just playing along.
They finished breakfast and went back inside. ‘Let me show you some of the château.’
They followed behind him as he took them on a tour of the ground floor. ‘There is so much to see. We will tour it in parts.’
‘What a beautiful home, Luc. You must be very proud,’ Lizzie said.
