A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Forty-Five

"Her name was--is--Elvira Kraus," Sebastian said. "She took back her maiden name after she divorced my father."

He swallowed and closed his eyes. Rose gripped his hands tighter.

"He and his sister were the only children in their family. Their parents were blessed with inherited wealth and spoiled them terribly--at least according to Betsy. She began working for them when my father was in his teens. When he graduated college, my grandparents' gift was to send him on a trip to London. He could spend the summer as he wished, so long as he didn't take part in any illegal or immoral activity, and he was to return to New York in three months to go to work for Grandfather.

"My father obeyed to a point, but he fancied himself a playboy, and indulged in loose women and lavish parties. One evening just before he was due to set sail for America, he attended one of these gatherings at the home of a friend. That's where he met my mother. She was an actress with a traveling German theater troupe: witty, graceful, and physically stunning. And her English was almost flawless. He fell in love with her on the spot.

"She was only in town for a week, but within that week she had him wrapped around her little finger. When he failed to find out where she was staying that first night, he started showing up at her performances, night after night, until she agreed to accompany him to dinner. But she wouldn't go unchaperoned; she brought another actor with her: Fritz Geisel."

Rose's eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing.

"He secretly loved my mother," Sebastian continued, "but he was a gentleman, and when he saw what was developing between the two of them, he simply stepped aside. He told me later that he didn't have the courage to let her know of his true feelings.

"Anyway, the time for my father to return home had come and gone. He sent a telegram to his parents saying that he'd decided to stay in London, then set about proving it by taking up residence in a none-to-shabby flat and by asking Elvira to marry him within weeks of their first meeting. Much to his astonishment, she said yes. It wouldn't be until years later that he'd understand why."

"Was it the money?" Rose asked.

Sebastian nodded. "You're a very astute woman, Rose. My mother loved my father, but even more importantly, she was practical," he said bitterly. "And when my grandfather finally went to London to try and talk some sense into my father--after he'd already eloped--that's when everything started to fall apart. Grandfather hated Elvira on sight. He called my father a fool for marrying a German whose breeding was suspect, an actress, no less, and gave him an ultimatum: either he have the marriage annulled and return to the States immediately, or he would be cut off permanently from his family's fortune. My father chose Elvira.

"She didn't discover he'd lost his cash flow source for some time. She left the troupe and played the role of an idle rich housewife, spending money frivolously on clothing and new furnishings. My father realized they were headed for financial disaster and got a job as an accountant to pay the bills. He told his wife that his father had used his influence to obtain for him a position as an executive. It was one of many lies they told each other. And it wasn't until after I was born, two years after they'd married, that each discovered the truth.

"My mother wasn't suited for parenthood. She longed for the stage and grew tired of staying at home with me and tending to the household chores. She insisted that my father hire a nanny, a woman who soon became my substitute mother while my real mother cavorted about town with other men. The sham of a marriage ended when my father found out about one of her dalliances. By this time she'd gotten wise to their true financial circumstances. Unfortunately, I was old enough to witness them fighting about it. I was about four at the time and couldn't hide from the combative atmosphere in that apartment. Apparently, my mother's contempt for my father extended to me as well, because she left and never came back for me."

Pause. Rose waited, breath in her throat, for Sebastian to break down, but he didn't shed a tear. His voice as he resumed his story was steady.

"He told me she died. And I never received a visit, not so much as a letter, so I believed him. But I never stopped missing her, even after I'd forgotten what it was like to have her there.

"My father stayed in London, not wanting to crawl back to America divorced and struggling. We managed, too, until I was nearly twelve years old. The accounting firm he worked for went under and he could no longer afford our flat, much less my nanny. With no one else to rely upon, he wrote my aunt, his sister. She wired him enough money for the two of us to travel to New York, and by the time we arrived she'd convinced my dying grandfather to accept my father back into the fold. Grandfather passed on soon after and left us the family's summer cottage on Long Island. My father took over his business in the city, and all was well until we ran into Fritz Geisel.

"I had always loved the theater, and as much as my father would have liked to steer me away from my mother's profession, he'd made my happiness his first priority. We went to plays every chance we could get, and one evening a couple approached us. The man had a thick German accent. Though it had been more than a decade since he'd last seen my mother, my father was still in love with her. While I was distracted talking to Anna, he was pumping Fritz for information as to Elvira's whereabouts. All Fritz could tell him was that she'd gone back to Germany, and he lost contact with her. My father continued to let me believe she was dead.

"When I learned that Fritz had known my mother, and had started his own theater company, I knew this was who I wanted to work for. I'd already begun planning a career as a director. My father wanted me to have nothing to do with Fritz until the war in Europe started two years ago. He invited the Geisels to the house, and I overheard him ask if there'd been any word from my mother."

"How horrible for you, to find out that way," Rose sympathized.

Sebastian hesitated. "On the contrary, I was thrilled to learn she was alive, in spite of everything. I'd created this fantasy of her, you see...anyway, at my father's request, Fritz eventually got in contact with an actor in Germany who'd stayed in touch with Elvira. He said she'd gotten involved with an officer in the French army, and was believed to be in danger.

"My father being as sick as he was, I continued the inquiries, hiring investigators with connections in government agencies overseas. Some of them were rather unsavory, but I was desperate not to lose my mother again. And, as it turned out, all my efforts were for nothing. The French officer was killed three months ago, and my mother disappeared.

"I'm going to Europe," he said with frightening resolve. "I'm going to find her somehow and bring her here, where she'll be safe."

"B-but, Sebastian, that's not possible!" Rose cried. "You heard what happened to the Lusitania. You'll never find a passenger ship to take you to Europe."

"There are still ways. The man you saw me with the night of your play was one of my sources. I've asked him to look into cargo ships that are still doing business in the Atlantic."

Rose was shaking her head. "Are you mad?"

"That's what my acquaintance asked me," Sebastian said. "But I'm going to pursue this, Rose." His eyes gleamed with determination. "My father never remarried. He never stopped loving my mother, never gave up on finding her. I owe it to him to bring her home."

After Sebastian left, Rose went to bed, but was unable to sleep for the heavy feeling of dread that had invaded her insides. She was about to lose another love, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

*****

There was plenty of upheaval in the house that week, as Rose prepared for her big move, and the Scotts commenced with interviews for her replacement. Bridie was back, but her workload had been eased due to the new addition in her family. Bill had a graduation of his own, but, instead of coming home for the summer, as his parents desired, he decided to share an apartment in New York with a classmate. On one point, however, William refused to budge; Bill was to take an assistant position in his father's corporation until time to leave for Harvard.

That was fine with him, he assured Rose with a wink, because he'd be spending his weekends playing piano in an uptown tavern.

"Bill, you're not even of age!" Rose gasped.

He grinned. "They don't know that."

"Not unless somebody tells them." Unbeknownst to both of them, India had slipped into the parlor. "Don't mind me," she added to Bill, ignoring Rose. "I'm just the maid."

"Aren't you supposed to be upstairs packing my belongings?" Bill demanded. Rose gaped at him, startled at his imperious tone. Then India's lips curled upwards.

"On second thought, I do believe it's time for a break." She settled into a cushioned chair, leaned back and crossed her ankles.

Rose looked at Bill again, and this time he was smiling. She sensed that a game was being played whose rules were not hers to know.

"India, what are you doing?"

She jumped to her feet and stammered, "Uh, nothing, Auntie. Just resting for a minute."

Marie entered the parlor, Cecilia trailing close behind. "You can rest when your chores are done. I think Miss Bridie needs you upstairs. She's moving Richard's things into Bill's room. Hurry up, girl."

India poked her lower lip out in defiance, but did as her aunt ordered. Marie gave Bill a long look, and a silent message passed between them so quickly that once again, Rose felt very much the outsider. Bill excused himself in a rush.

"We're gonna go look for the other children," Marie said. "It's about time for lunch. Come with us, Rose."

She had something important to say to her, Rose could tell. She followed the nurse and Cecilia outside. When they were on the pathway leading to the woods, Cecilia skipping ahead, Marie finally spoke. "Please pardon my niece's behavior. I'll have a little talk with her."

"You don't have to apologize," Rose said. "I don't see where she did anything wrong."

Marie chuckled. "I know you mean well, but you sure don't know a lot about the way things are between the races."

Just then she spied Sir, Richard and Josephine playing with Skipper at the river's edge. She yelled Sir's name and headed in their direction.

"Rosie?"

Rose looked down into Cecilia's upturned face. The tot resembled her mother more each day.

"Rosie, what's the Lucy--tan--eea?"

"The what, sweetie?" Rose leaned forward, hands on knees.

"The Lucy--" Cecilia crinkled her brow in frustration. "You said something happened to it."

Rose frowned. "The Lusitania? Cecilia, were you listening in on my conversation with Sebastian? That's not very polite, you know."

"I know. What happened to it?"

Rose sighed, "It was a boat, and it had a bad accident last year. Nothing for you to worry about."

Cecilia's green eyes were solemn. "But you're scared of boats."

"Who told you that?"

The little girl lowered her eyes to the ground and mumbled.

"Who told you?" Rose repeated, frantic. Without thinking, she grabbed Cecilia's arm.

Cecilia whimpered, "I'm not s'posed to tell. He's my friend. Only I can see him."

Rose was aware of voices--Richard, Marie, coming uphill in their direction. She quickly released Cecilia's arm; the child rubbed the sore spot and watched her warily.

By the time Rose moved, the odd conversation with Cecilia had become a memory. But it would remain in the back of her mind, only to surface when she least expected it.

Chapter Forty-Six
Stories