Scent of Triumph (39 page)

Danielle’s heart clutched. “What’s wrong, André?”

He let out a puff of air between his lips. “You can always tell, can’t you?”

“I know you well, André.”

“It’s your intuition.” André shook his head. “Some of our operatives were killed in Paris last week.”

“I’m so, so sorry to hear that.” She hesitated. “Not Françoise?” she asked, suddenly alarmed. She recalled her brother’s partner, the passionate, dedicated woman who had helped her flee to safety. How devoted Françoise had been to the Resistance.

André put his arm around her. “She’s fine, she’s a very brave woman. But then, they are all so brave. Speaking of which, I have another letter for you from Philippe.” He drew a crumpled letter from his pocket.

“I’d hoped you did.” Each time she received a letter, she knew an escape had been successful. Philippe always gave them a letter for her. She opened it and read it quickly. “He sends his love to you, André,” she said. She finished the letter and slipped it into her pocket.

High overhead, magnificent white gulls glided in lazy circles. Their graceful wings cast dancing shadows upon the water as they swooped to the surface to scoop fish from the surf. Danielle and André finished their coffee, rose, kissed each other on the cheeks, and went their separate ways.

“Until next month,” called André.

“I’ll be here, you can all count on me.” She walked across the beach to her sleek cream-colored Delahaye automobile. She shook sand from her shoes before getting in, and as she did, her mood darkened as she thought of Cameron again.
Today is going to be a long day
, she thought, dreading Cameron’s appearance.

* * *

Abigail had just stepped into her high-heeled satin pumps when two sharp knocks sounded at the door of her Beverly Hills home. Recognizing Lou’s signal, she strode to meet him, excited at the prospect of this special evening with her closest friends.

“Hello, my dear.” She kissed him on the cheek. He smelled deliciously of Bay Rum cologne, and his impeccably styled silver hair shone against the midnight black of his tuxedo.

“Good evening, Abigail. Hmm, marvelous perfume. One of Danielle’s?”

“Of course, it’s Joie de Bretancourt. Now, tell me honestly, what do you think of the dress?” She whirled around in her navy silk Bretancourt evening dress, unusual in its sleek simplicity, and the perfect backdrop for her silvery South Sea pearls.

“Stunning,” Lou replied. “The mayor couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful, talented woman to honor tonight. Beverly Hills Woman of the Year, but in my opinion, you’re Woman of the Century. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you, dear.” She hugged his neck. “You look quite handsome, too, as always.”

Lou cleared his throat. “Don’t get me started, Abigail, I don’t think I could resist you tonight. You really don’t know the impact you have on me, do you?”

“Silly man.” She laughed and picked up her matching navy purse. “Always teasing me. Well then, shall we be on our way?”

“I suppose,” he said with a sigh. “Your public awaits you.” Lou offered his arm and she hooked her arm into the crook of his elbow.

They slid into the back of Lou’s black limousine, and as they rode to the mayor’s home, Abigail reflected on her work for Operation Orphan Rescue, the charity she’d founded, and for which she was being honored tonight. It was nice to be recognized, she admitted, but that was hardly the reason behind her efforts. The world was fraught with turmoil, locked in a reckless race toward destruction. She shuddered. Sadly, after every battle, orphaned children were left behind.

Abigail’s Operation Orphan Rescue had grown into an international organization, aiding children from Europe and Asia displaced by war. Most children she managed to place in loving homes in the United States or Canada. The children were so dear to her. She’d made it her mission to save as many as she could, and she thrived on her work. In a sense, they were
her
children, replacements for the babies she could never have.

She glanced at Lou, sitting beside her. After a valiant struggle to win his financial backing, he’d become one of her most ardent supporters, and a good friend. He’d even made a short documentary about her work with studio contract stars. The film played in theaters across North America to overwhelming response. Money continued to pour in, enabling her to aid even more children. And she couldn’t thank him enough.

She stole another look at Lou. Their platonic relationship seemed to work for him. She knew she was the only woman he went out with who didn’t put pressure on him to marry.
And that’s just the way I want it
, she told herself firmly, opening her powder compact to check her red lip rouge.

“Here we are,” Lou said, as the limousine turned into the driveway of Mayor Albright’s Beverly Hills home.

The mayor welcomed them at the door. “Follow the crowd to the tennis court,” he said. “We’ve tented it for the event.”

Abigail and Lou strolled past a rippling koi pond. Flickering lanterns lined the pathway behind the serene Asian-style home.

A tall, distinguished man approached them. Abigail recognized him as one of her father’s friends, Steve Demetriades, an American who owned a smaller rival shipping firm. She smiled. “Mr. Demetriades, how lovely to see you."

“Call me Steve, please. Congratulations on your honor, Abigail. And Lou, it’s been too long,” he said, shaking Lou’s hand.

Abigail said, “What brings you here tonight?”

He laughed. “I just bought a home around the corner on Sierra. Nathan Newell-Grey’s daughter named Woman of the Year—do you think I could miss this and still speak to your father? He’d never forgive me. And how is he?”

Abigail shook her head sadly. “As you know, he’s a tough old buzzard, but this war is really taking a toll on him.”

A sympathetic look crossed Steve’s face. “I’m awfully sorry about the ships he’s lost. We’ve all lost them,” he added. “Give him my best.”

“Thank you, I will,” Abigail said, remembering. German forces sank two fine Newell-Grey ships that had been put into His Majesty’s service, along with the H.M.S. Eagle and the H.M.S. Manchester. To the Japanese, they’d lost another ship, as well as the H.M.S. Prince of Wales and the H.M.S. Repulse. She hated to think of the waste incurred, and more than that, the lives lost.

“And your mother,” Steve asked, “is Harriet still in London?”

“Indeed, she won’t leave my father’s side, despite the Nazi air strikes. And you must remember the Leibowitzes. Their home was damaged in an air raid, but thank God, no one was injured.”

Lou added, “Since Allied forces have retaliated, bombing Germany, perhaps we’ll have an end to this soon.”

Steve nodded gravely. “I don’t see how the Nazis can manage their invasion of Russia. Spreading themselves too thin, if you ask me.”

“We hope,” Abigail said, nodding in agreement.

Steve went on. “And how is your brother Jon faring?”

“Helping to keep the Royal Navy afloat,” Abigail replied. “He’s been fortunate, more than I can say for many of our friends.”

Steve touched her arm in a compassionate gesture. “Some of ours, too, sad to say. Well, give your parents my regards. And congratulations again on your honor. Mighty fine work you’re doing.” He glanced overhead, then winked at her. “With any luck, we won’t have an air raid drill tonight.” He turned to Lou, shook his hand. “Let’s have lunch soon.”

“Call my office,” Lou replied. “Gladys will arrange it.”

As Abigail and Lou continued toward the tennis court she caught her breath in surprise. Sure enough, an enormous tent had been erected over the court like a draped pagoda. They walked inside, where the Asian theme continued, with pale celadon green fabric lining the interior, an enormous golden Buddha at the entryway, and gaily colored lanterns illuminating each table.

“How exquisite!” Abigail took in the scene. An orchestra played on a stage, and urns of exotic orchids and fragrant jasmine were dotted around. She broke into a smile when she saw her friends. “Danielle and Cameron, I’m so glad you could join us.”

“Hello, darling,” Danielle said, kissing her on each cheek. “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Abigail hugged them both. “And look, here’s Clara.” They turned to greet her and Abigail said, “Clara, you look marvelous. You certainly dressed appropriately for the occasion.” Clara wore a sleek red cheongsam dress, with red enameled chopsticks in her platinum up-sweep.

“Actually, I can’t take credit for this outfit. Danielle designed it for me. It’s part of her Asian collection.”

Abigail turned to Danielle, who wore a similar tunic and pants outfit in emerald green.
Quite daring
, she thought, to wear pants to a formal event, but Danielle carried it off with great aplomb. She grinned at her. “Looks like you’re starting another trend tonight.”

Danielle laughed. “It’s good for business. Speaking of which, I believe you know my business partner, Harry Nelson. He’s Clara’s escort for the evening.”

“Of course, I’m happy to see you again, Harry. Danielle tells me you’ve done wonders with National Music. The first Duets album was on the chart for a year, wasn’t it?”

Harry nodded. “And the series is still selling well, as are his Christmas collections. But I must confess, Danielle was the brains behind it all.”

“Yeah, I jus’ sing,” Cameron cut in, slurring his words. “Shut up and sing, that’s all they say.”

Before Abigail could reply, Danielle shot a sharp glance to Harry, who grabbed Cameron by the arm, and guided him away.

Well-wishers quickly swept Abigail and Lou into the crowd, with gossip columnist Hedda Hopper among them.

Danielle frowned, fearing Hedda’s press coverage. At least Harry had been swift in his reaction. She didn’t want any more wild stories leaking to the press.
Why can’t he behave, just once?
Cameron’s new album was scheduled for a spring release. It was his first original material since before they’d married. And she’d hate for Cameron to spoil tonight’s special honor for Abigail.

Her heart sank as she watched Harry and Cameron. She’d really hoped Cameron would be on good behavior. She’d turned her back on him for just a few moments with the mayor, but that was all it took for Cameron to swallow several shots of vodka. Worse, Mayor Albright wanted Cameron to sing a few of his new songs after dinner.
He’ll be in no shape to sing tonight,
she thought ruefully, and sighed. All he has to do is sing and flash his million-dollar grin.
Is that so much to ask?

Danielle returned her attention to the guests. Marie had come, too, and Danielle smiled as she watched her mother speaking animatedly, her lilting laugh filtering across the glittering crowd.

To Danielle’s relief, Marie had made tremendous strides, due in a large part to Dr. Genet, a French doctor living in Los Angeles who’d taken particular interest in Marie’s condition. Survivors of tragedy were his specialty. Furthermore, he and Marie enjoyed a common bond through their shared language and culture. He was incredibly good to Marie, and she’d blossomed under his care. Even her voice had regained its lovely harmonious quality.

Danielle never forgot that it was Cameron who’d made Marie’s initial treatment possible. Danielle checked her anger against her husband. For all his faults, he had been generous to her and Marie and the girls.
Had it not been for Cameron....
She glanced at him again. She owed him a great deal. He had opened doors for her, and she would never forget it. But that didn’t excuse his behavior.

Abigail swept up behind Danielle. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Oh, Abigail,” she replied with a jolt. “You surprised me.”

Abigail followed her gaze. “Will Cameron be all right?”

Danielle nodded. “He’s had a fair amount to drink, but Harry will see to him.”

“I just want to make sure everyone is having a good time.”

Danielle grasped her hands. “That’s exactly why we’re here. Because you care so much, and you do so much for others.”

Abigail flushed with modesty. “I couldn’t do it without financial support. You’ve been one of my most loyal and generous contributors, Danielle. We should honor
you
.”

Danielle shrugged. “It gives me great pleasure to help your children.” She lowered her eyes, grew pensive. “Imagine, Nicky could have been one of the children you’ve rescued.”

“His memory lives on through your efforts, Danielle.”

“It’s still hard for me to realize he’s gone, Abigail. He’s so real in my dreams. What if—” Danielle stopped, suddenly unable to voice her thought.
What if Heinrich had lied?

“You’ll always find him, Danielle, in your dreams and in your heart.”

Danielle sighed. “You’re too good, Abigail. In fact, you’re the best person I know.” She glanced at Lou, who was deep in conversation with Dr. Genet. “You’ll make someone very happy some day. Some day soon, perhaps?”

Abigail’s smile faded, replaced by a wistful expression. “Lou? No, we’re just good friends. Marriage isn’t for me. I’m far too busy.”

One glance at Abigail’s face and Danielle quickly changed the subject. “Have you heard from your brother lately?”

“I received a letter from Jon just yesterday. He’s exhausted, of course, he hasn’t had leave in months. Besides which, poor fellow, he and Victoria have had such problems in their marriage.”

Danielle bit back regret. “Where is she now? Still in New York?”

“Last I heard, she’s visiting friends in Mexico City and Acapulco. Wherever the fashionable place to be is, that’s where Victoria can be found.”

“I am truly sorry for him, Abigail. It’s no wonder you shy away from marriage. Jon and Victoria, Cameron and me. We don’t exactly inspire a sprint to the marriage alter.”

“I’m sure everyone has problems to work through,” Abigail said, sighing. “We were brought up believing in fairy tale marriages. But it’s not reality. Not in today’s world.”

“This is a crazy world.” Danielle hesitated before asking her next question. She and Jon had painfully reestablished their friendship and had been corresponding for the last several years. But there were some things, she knew, one only confided to family. “And Jon? What do you think he’ll do? About Victoria, I mean.”