“What the future holds for me,” she answered, sipping her wine. “I feel rather like I’m a leaf blowing randomly in the wind.”
He smiled faintly. “You’ll find your place in the world, don’t worry.”
“That’s not what I mean,” she sighed. “Robbie’s flying planes, you’re doing important diplomatic work, and what am I doing to prepare for a possible war? I’m dancing and shopping and breaking Marc Fournier’s heart.”
“Marc Fournier?” Her father looked up at that. “Isn’t he Pierre Fournier’s oldest?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Well, you could certainly do worse,” he said thoughtfully. “Why are you breaking his heart?”
“Oh Dad! I’m being serious!”
“So am I!” he said with a wink. “Your mother would be over the moon if you married a Frenchman, especially one of the Fourniers.”
Evelyn laughed despite herself.
“I hate to disappoint you both, but I have no intention of encouraging him,” she said bluntly. “He is very nice, but…”
“But not for you,” her father finished.
She nodded. “Exactly.”
He sighed in mock despair, the twinkle in his eyes belying the sound.
“Well, someday you will meet someone who is for you,” he said. “I just hope I’m still alive to see it. At this rate, I’ll be bent over with old age.”
“You make it sound as if I’m inordinately picky,” she said with a grin. “I’m not. I know exactly what I want. I just haven’t found it yet.”
“There’s no rush, my dear. You’re still young. Enjoy yourself, and the rest will come.”
A waiter removed Evelyn’s plate and she sat back as another one re-filled her wine glass.
“How long will you be in Vienna?” she asked, once they had finished and left the table.
“Only a few days,” he answered, sitting back in his chair and reaching for his wine. “Then I’m going to Prague. Shall I bring you back something pretty?”
Evelyn smiled. “That would be lovely, but completely unnecessary.”
“Of course it is, but I don’t see why I shouldn’t spoil my only daughter on occasion.” He paused, then sobered. “Although, I don’t know how much time I’ll have for shopping. This was an unexpected trip, and very last minute. I wonder if I could ask you to do me a favor?”
Evelyn raised a tawny eyebrow. “Of course! What is it?”
“I have a packet of papers that need to go to William Buckley. You remember him, don’t you? He was at our Christmas party last year.”
“Yes, of course I remember him! He went hunting with us on Boxing Day and bagged himself a pair.”
Mr. Ainsworth chuckled. “Of all the things you could remember, you remember that.”
“Well, of course I do. It was some fine shooting.”
“He keeps a house just outside Paris. He’s working with the French government in an advisory capacity and I have some papers for him to pass on to Daladier. However, my train leaves early in the morning and I won’t have time to deliver them.”
“I can take it for you. Where’s his house?”
“Neuilly-sur-Seine.”
“I’ll ask to use Gisele’s car. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“Thank you. I’ll phone him up and tell him you’re coming when I get back to the hotel.”
“Of course, if I’m doing you a favor, now I will expect something pretty from Vienna,” she teased.
Mr. Ainsworth laughed. “Consider it done.”
Chapter Three
Evelyn jogged down the stairs and rounded the corner at the bottom, striding down the hall to the family dining room. The smell of coffee wafted down the corridor, along with the sound of low voices. She was the last one down for breakfast.
“Bonjour!” she sang gaily, entering the large room. “I’m sorry I’m late down. I was writing letters to my mother and Robbie.”
Nicolas turned from where he was serving himself at the long sideboard along the wall.
“How industrious of you! I have no such excuse. I was recovering from last night,” he told her, setting a croissant on his plate and moving on to a platter of fresh fruit.
“How were the Fournier’s?” she asked, crossing the room to where her aunt was seated next to her uncle at the end of the table. “Good morning, Tante Adele,” she said, bending to kiss the offered cheek.
“Good morning, mon petite,” her aunt replied. “How was dinner with Robert?”
“Very nice, thank you.”
“The Fournier’s were as expected,” Nicolas said, moving towards the table. “We went to La Coupole afterwards.”
“Ah, that explains why you’re recovering this morning,” Evelyn said with a grin as she bent to kiss her uncle on his cheek. “Good morning, Uncle Claude.”
“You did miss a good time, Evie,” Gisele said, pouring coffee into her cup from the ornate pot on the table. “Maria Santiago St. Jeunes was there and she brought her goat, George. Who names a goat George? Anyway, George decided that Madame Ferrier’s train on her gown was tasty and he chewed a good eight inches of it off before anyone noticed.”
Evelyn turned to go to the sideboard and pick up a plate. “What did Madame do?”
“What could she do? There was no point in making a fuss, as it was already done. Someone went and got some scissors and cut the train.”
“Why on earth did someone bring a goat into a nightclub?” Adele asked, looking up from her correspondence.
“Oh, it’s all the rage now, Maman,” Nicolas said gaily. “Josephine Baker started it with her cheetah a few years ago and now everyone has something. You can’t go anywhere without feeling like you’re visiting a zoo.”
“I suppose it could have been worse,” Adele said thoughtfully. “I think I’d rather be confronted with a goat than a cheetah.”
“How is your father, Evelyn?” Claude asked, setting his newspaper aside. “Where’s he off to now?”
“Vienna.” Evelyn carried a plate with a pastry and some fruit
