The Idol’S Daughter

By Carolyn Britton Carter

Christine stood watching her father take his third curtain call to the thunderous cheering of the theater audience. Her father had just become the idol of the London stage. The adulation, however, did not stop him from forsaking the stage and his family when a tragic accident happened on his stage a short time later.

Twelve years have passed without a word from her father, and the First World War has begun and is dangerously near. Christine is sent to America to her father. She does not look forward to their reunion.

She is abandoned again when she arrives in New York and is denied entry. She finds that he is in Seattle. Fearing being sent back to England, she slips onto a Canadian boat docked at the pier.

Christine finally reaches her father, joins the Womens Army Signal Corps, and goes to Europe with the army. At the end of the war, she returns to Atlanta, her husbands home. This is just the beginning of her adventurous life full of romance, mystery, and events that will change her world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514411421

Carolyn Britton Carter

This is Carolyn’s first fictional novel. It was in the computer for twenty years because of her gypsy yearnings. She has made her home moving between the marshes of Saint Augustine, Florida, and the pull of the Great Smoky Mountains in Maggie Valley, North Carolina. Her friends continually ask her to tell her entertaining stories, and now she has in The Idol’s Daughter. She has incorporated Atlanta, her birthplace, and other interesting facts of her background into the story. Her earlier years were spent on the tennis court and attending classes at the High Museum of Art. Now she entertains herself with her flowers, painting, and traveling the world. Her inspiration for the book was meeting a grand old lady who was a French translator for General Pershing in the First World War.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

LONDON 1903

Elizabeth Downing had just blotted her entry into the family bible when she heard carriage wheels grinding on the stones outside. She had documented her son-in-law's opening night as leading man in the stage play Forever Yours. She smiled as she wrote "a highly acclaimed drama." The matriarch enjoyed the responsibility of scribe for the Downing dynasty. She pulled back the heavy brocade drapes and saw her beautiful daughter and grandchildren arriving to take her to the theater. She quickly pulled a scarlet satin ribbon in place to mark Jonathan's historic place and closed the book.

London's air was full of electricity, hope, and anticipation, as all opening nights. However, this night was unique. It was the dawn of Jonathan Steele's career. The lights flickered, and London's first-nighters began to take their seats. Jonathan had honed his skills and waited patiently for this moment. For years, he had tolerated bit parts, as all actors serving his apprenticeship. His wife's belief in him and his talent had paid off, for this was the role of his career. His good looks and baritone voice had given him the edge over all the others who had auditioned.

Looking out through a break in the curtain, he saw his family arrive and take their seats in the front row. Millicent immediately left the children with her mother and ran backstage to give her husband an encouraging embrace. She had always been his major supporter since everyone else thought he had pursued the wrong career. She hoped his success tonight would finally bring his family to accept his chosen profession, to see his talent and passion for acting. The lights dimmed, and she dashed off to her seat and her children. Christine was only five and Paul nine. Both were much too young to really appreciate what was about to transpire. Nevertheless, Millicent wanted them to see their father become the next matinee idol of the London stage and admired by all.

She was not disappointed. When Jonathan uttered the last line, the theater burst into boisterous cheers and continuous applause, curtain call after curtain call. A star was born. Jonathan stood looking out at his cheering admirers, reminiscing over the years of dull, uninteresting parts he portrayed to reach this pinnacle of success. He recognized many of his friends from his Independent Theatre Society days. In the front row were his wife and children. Sitting next to his son was Elizabeth, his mother-in-law, one of his staunchest supporters. The two conspicuously empty seats next to her had been reserved for his missing mother and father, a common occurrence in the past. However, he had hoped it would be different tonight. Jonathan had pushed aside a commission in the Royal Navy when he graduated Cambridge to become an actor. It was an unpopular decision held by his family.

His wife was a saint, as she had enthusiastically stood by his side when the good parts were going to others. How he wished he could call her up to the stage to share this exhilarating moment. He pulled a rose out of the dozens he held and threw it to her. Every woman's eyes in the auditorium blazed daggers at Millicent. Who was she? They all wanted to know. Why her? The die was cast, for in the future, he would have to contend with their adoration.

The theater reviews in the newspapers raved over Jonathan's performance, his elocution, his presence on stage. They loved him. Their description of his good looks helped filled the matinee performances every day. It also meant a commercial success for the play. Their life became the envy of high society. Jonathan was pursued by every single woman and some not so eligible. Millicent endured their approaches with the confidence of a woman loved by a devoted husband. She was, in most cases, more beautiful than her competition. Millicent had the grace of her aristocratic upbringing and the beauty of a Greek goddess. Her long naturally curly brown hair and green eyes set off her flawless complexion. As beautiful as she was, she did not enjoy the limelight as her husband did. She maintained a low profile, leaving the spotlight to Jonathan. He may have been the matinee idol of London, but she was the idol of her husband, son, and daughter.

Her sister Beatrice and her husband, Sir Harold Benningfield, had been at the theater opening night. They shared in Millicent and Jonathan's excitement and in the celebration following. Beatrice was a few years older and married to an MP. Unlike her sister Millicent, who was sweet, demure, and soft-spoken, she was flamboyant and grabbed life with both hands and rode it unyieldingly. They had no children and seemed content to be free to travel and enjoy the good life. They were known to jump in his shiny black roadster at a moment's notice and speed out to the country estate of the duke and spend the weekend playing bridge and foxhunting. Fresh powder drew them to the Alps to ski occasionally. Harold spent much of his time at the racetrack. He loved to race his powerful sports car and took every opportunity to show it off.

Millicent and Beatrice's widowed mother, Elizabeth Harwood Downing, is the grande dame of London society and a stickler for decorum. The Downing Manor, located a short distance outside of London, is a splendid two-story stone building, although it looks more like a fortified medieval castle than a manor. It was built by her husband's ancestors many centuries ago. The great ivy-covered entrance is flanked by an east and west wing. A large veranda on the south side led down to a formal garden. The granite quarry, from which the manor's stones were mined, has formed a lovely pond. Local superstitious farmers believe the manor is cursed. The assumption is due to its medieval appearance, many think. The magnificently landscaped and meticulously groomed grounds are surrounded by green meadows and stately forest. Their family is one of old-world prestige and privilege.

When Jonathan and Millicent married, they set up residence in the east wing in the Downing Manor. Jonathan, also having come from a wealthy and prestigious family, wanted no assistance from his father, especially since he did not understand Jonathan's passion to act. Therefore, their life was sparse at first, sparse being relative to their previous lifestyle. Then a distant aunt passed away and left Jonathan the bulk of her estate. It included a beautiful home in the heart of London and a monetary amount to make them quite comfortable. Millicent flourished having her own home. She loved being near her mother in the manor and will miss her terribly. However, she is now mistress of her own home, and she flourished. The gods were certainly smiling on the Steele family.

Mother Downing, Millicent, Christine, and sometimes Beatrice would meet in town for four o'clock tea. It was a weekly outing enjoyed by all, but especially Christine. She realized, as young as she was, the opulence of the occasion. A few hours of shopping usually preceded tea. Millicent and her mother enjoyed spoiling Christine, dressing her in lace and velvet. These memories will give Christine strength and comfort in the future.

The play is in its second year, and every performance sold out. Jonathan is still riding high on his popularity. They are given the best table in the restaurant when they dine out and applause from his adoring fans when they enter. It is somewhat embarrassing to Millicent. She had been taught never to draw attention to oneself. It is just another reality to which she must become accustomed. She never complained, as her life is dedicated to her husband and children. If they are happy and content, then she was satisfied.

Jonathan was always trying to include Millicent in his activities in the theater. He knew she missed him being a part of the family and at home with her in the evenings. One day, an opportunity arose to have Millicent participate in a little skit. The local university drama club wanted to produce and practice at his theater. He asked her to take a part in the production. Jonathan told her she is only filling in for an actor who is under the weather. You don't have to be good. Just have fun, Jonathan teased. Millicent was reluctant at first. She had no training in the arts and felt she would look foolish. Jonathan insisted that she just be herself. Acting is an art, but many actors pull from their emotional memory. The character you are playing is very much like you, and you will be playing opposite me. How could she refuse?

That morning, Millicent took the children to their grandmother Downing. They always enjoyed visiting her. She still maintained the stable, and Paul spent his time there. Christine and her grandmother spent their time having tea. Millicent wished they had the same relationship with the Steele grandparents. After saying her goodbyes, she rushed off to the theater. If only she had known what was in store for her.

Jonathan saw Millicent come through the door into the auditorium. The bright sunlight silhouetted her full head of golden brown hair. She looked like an angel. He rushed off the stage and met her halfway up the aisle. They embraced passionately. He wanted the world to know how much he loved her. Jonathan led Millicent up onto the stage and introduced her to the visiting drama group. Handing her a script, he suggested she sit at the table near the back of the stage, one of the props in act I. Just get comfortable and read over your part. The first ten pages will do. We have a lot to set up before we read our parts. He excused himself and returned to the group. He was acting director for them today, just to help orientate them.

The university professor began laying out the script and pointed out to the stagehand in charge of the scene changes that they would like to use the scene in act II of Jonathan's play. The professor asked one of the students to assist as part of his training. The overzealous student went to the wings and began reviewing the layout.

What do you do with all these ropes? the young man asked.

They hold the scenery in the ceiling until we are ready for them. We refer to them as flying scenery. Each set of ropes is identified to a certain scene. The stagehand decided he should ask Jonathan's permission to drop the flying scene for act II. He didn't want to disturb the stage for tonight's performance without asking.

Jonathan was involved in a discussion on how to portray one of the characters. He gave approval without regard to where Millicent was sitting. The stagehand returned to the wing where the student was waiting. He had found the ropes that held the act II flying scene, and before the stagehand had cleared the stage, the young man untied one of the ropes.

Jonathan finished his conversation and was about to join Millicent when he realized she was still sitting in the location of act II. He yelled in his deep baritone voice, Wait! Stop! But no one seemed to hear him. He called out her name as he rushed toward his wife, breaking into a sprint when he heard a scream from the wings, Clear the stage! The weight of the scene pulled the hemp rope through the young man's hands, burning the skin off and causing him to scream in pain. He let go. The stagehand yelled again, Clear the stage! desperately trying to slow the decent with his gloved hands but to no avail. It was much too heavy.

Millicent, deep into her script, heard loud voices, then, thinking she heard the sound of a large bird flapping his wings overhead, looked up just in time to see the large painted canvas scene come crushing down on her. Jonathan could hear the rumbling; he knew what it meant and was only steps away from pushing Millicent out of the way. Desperately, he reached out for her, but she is slapped to the floor by the heavy canvas. His last sight of his precious wife's face was one of unimaginable fright.

Several men grabbed the end of the pole and lifted it off the battered body beneath. Jonathan breathlessly crawled up to his beloved wife, crying her name. There was no response. He whispered her name again and again as he patted her cheek. The professor felt for a pulse. As far as he could tell, there was none. Someone made a makeshift stretcher, and she was carried to a car. Jonathan had not left her side. He patted her hands to try to get a reaction, but she did not respond. She was very pale. Jonathan put the lap rug around her to ward off shock. The professor gave him hope and encouragement as they drove to the hospital, knowing they would need a miracle.

Jonathan was in shock by the time they reached help. The orderlies gently carried Millicent into the lobby. By this time, Jonathan was incoherent. The professor explained what happened and who she was. He also asked them to attend to Jonathan. The professor was familiar with the Steele family and knew Harold Benningfield was his brother-in-law. A messenger is sent to parliament to find him.

Beatrice and Harold arrive at the hospital and find Millicent in a dimly lighted room with Jonathan by her side. His forehead is resting on his folded arms on the bed. Beatrice rushed to her sister's side. She took her hand. It was cold and lifeless. Millicent! she cried out. My precious sister, what has happened to you? She looked at Jonathan for an explanation. They were not informed of the tragic details and its outcome. The note read only to come to the hospital that Mrs. Steele had been injured.

Jonathan heard her anguish and looked up at her. She is no longer with us. I killed her! He buried his face in his hands and wept uncontrollably.

My man, Harold said as he stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder, you must not blame yourself. Harold knew words were useless; not all the comforting words in the world would penetrate his grief. Harold went to Beatrice. She needed him desperately. Her sister lay there before her lifeless, when only the day before she was showing off new appointments in her sitting room to her. Harold led her to a chair. He could tell she was about to collapse.

What happened? What does he mean he killed her? The professor, standing at the door, told them the tragic scenario.

Harold said, What a bloody tragedy. We must let the Steeles know. Jonathan needs their counsel.

That is so appropriate, Beatrice sobbed. Augustus Steele and his wife will not be warm or loving. Counsel will be all he will get from them. Beatrice struggled to keep her composure. Then she broke down when she thought of her mother. I need to go to my mother. I hate leaving Jonathan here alone. What shall we do?

I will drive you to Elizabeth's. You need each other. Then I will notify Augustus and come back to the hospital.

The professor volunteered to stay with Jonathan. He confessed that he felt responsible. The drama club's presence caused the accident.

Beatrice gasped. The children are at Mother's! Oh no, I cannot tell them! I just can't! That is Jonathan's responsibility.

Harold said, Look at him. He wishes he were with her. Maybe it would be wise to wait to a later date to tell the children. They can stay at Elizabeth's until Jonathan has his emotions under control.

What about us? Mother will be devastated. How can she act like nothing has happened around them?

Your mother is strong. She will manage. Harold put his arms around Beatrice, hugged her tight to his chest, and held her there until he felt her relax. Harold looked into Beatrice's eyes and said, Now we can go.

The dark gray mansion came into view. Beatrice commented to Harold that she had never noticed how ominous and medieval her home looked. All my life I have thought it beautiful. Harold assured her it was her mood. Beatrice had gained her composure but did not know for how long once she saw her mother. Charles, the butler, opened the door and pointed in the direction of the study. Elizabeth liked the sun in that room for her needlepoint work. She looked up when they entered the room. Beatrice had her husband by the arm, and she looked grief-stricken. The sun was in her mother's eyes, and she could not see how distressed they were.

What are you doing here? Well, that did not sound very nice, did it? I just wasn't expecting you. Millicent said she might let the children stay over, if she was late. Then she saw Harold's expression and knew instantly something was wrong.

Where are the children? Beatrice asked in a soft quivering voice. She was on one knee in front of Elizabeth.

They are at the stables with Ralf. He is teaching Paul the rules of foxhunting. What has happened? I know something is terribly wrong.

Beatrice laid her head in her mother's lap and began to sob. I don't know how to tell you. There has been a tragic accident at the theater.

"Jonathan? Something has happened to Jonathan?

Mother, you must be strong. Millicent was at the theater with Jonathan and a prop fell and, and--- Beatrice was not finding the words to soften the blow she was about to deliver to her mother.

Harold stepped forward and told Elizabeth that Millicent died from a blow to the head from the falling backdrop. It was so sudden. She did not suffer. Forgive me for having to tell you this, the only way I know how. There are no words to express the sorrow in our hearts. We will miss her desperately.

The curse. Elizabeth took a deep breath and straightened her back. Where is my daughter?

Harold told her Jonathan was with her at the hospital. He is devastated. He blames himself for inviting her to the theater today.

How will we tell the children? Elizabeth asked.

Harold suggested they wait until tomorrow, until Jonathan gets his wits about him. He should be the one. Harold was taking the lead since his wife and Elizabeth were not thinking clearly at this time. Are you up to letting them staying over tonight? We will have the cook tell them you were not feeling well and had to retire early. She can put them to bed.

They think she is funny. I've heard them laughing together. Beatrice added, Harold and I will stop by later. Maybe we will take them for a short ride. I am more worried about Paul. He is older and might notice something is wrong. It will be harder on Christine later. She is only six and needs the love and attention of her mother. Beatrice began to cry.

Stay here with your mother, and I will go back to the hospital and take care of all the necessary arrangements. Elizabeth, do you want Beatrice to stay with you?

No, I think I can handle the children better alone. Beatrice can help you with the arrangements and comfort Jonathan. See that he gets home safely, please. Tell him to come to the mansion tomorrow, early. I need to tell him something important. He and I will tell the children then.

Jonathan was still by his wife's side when they returned. The funeral director arrived, and Harold took Jonathan's arm and pulled him up to leave the room. Beatrice put her arm around his waist and told him they were taking him home. The children are fine and still at their grandmother's. You must go to the mansion tomorrow and tell them about their mother. We knew you would want to be the one to tell them. Elizabeth said she had something important to tell you. We all need a good night's rest. Tomorrow will be trying.

The mist was just rising off the meadow, making the mansion eerier than usual. The site did not help Jonathan's mood. What did Elizabeth have to tell him? Nothing she could say would make this any easier. He was still heartsick, but this had to be done. Elizabeth was waiting for him in the study. They embraced, and Elizabeth offered to have the cook serve him breakfast. He declined. Jonathan asked about the children.

They are still asleep. That is why I wanted you to come early. Harold told me you blamed yourself for the accident and you will never step foot on stage again. That is not what Millicent would have wanted. She loved you more than life itself and was so very proud of you and what you have achieved. She struggled with you by your side all this time because she recognized the outstanding talent you have and your love of the theater. Don't dismiss everything she stood for. She would want you to go on acting. Give yourself some time to grieve. We will all need time. Elizabeth paused. She was about to speak of something she had kept buried in the Downing Bible for a very long time. I also need to tell you this. You are not responsible for the accident. It was not your fault. It is the curse of the Downing heirs.

The Downing curse? Jonathan stood and leaned over Elizabeth. What are you talking about? I have my own curse, the curse of the theater. Now that is a curse! It has alienated my parents to the point they have all but renounced me, and my wife is dead from my insisting she participate in my career. What more is there to say? Jonathan bellowed in his deep baritone stage voice as he paced back and forth with his hands on top of his head as if to keep it from exploding.

Elizabeth, understanding his grief-stricken outburst, said, Come, sit here next to me and listen. I must explain. Jonathan, feeling better after venting his emotions, poured a brandy and reluctantly did as she requested.

Elizabeth began the untold story to try to ease Jonathan's conscience. Hundreds of years ago, my husband's ancestors were given this land by the Thrown. Laborers were put to work, mining the granite from the land to build the mansion. A burial ground was exposed, and the laborers stopped working. They didn't want to continue. Nevertheless, the medieval lord threatened them into relocating the remains. Jonathan became restless. "Please, bear with me a little longer. Unusual, unexpected deaths have been documented, over centuries, in the Downing Bible. You can read them for yourself. The strangest thing is that it only happens every other generation. The Downing historians believe that when the bones were relocated, a generation of burial sites was missed and not relocated, and they are angry. They want to be with the rest of their family.

Ask yourself why Millicent was sitting right in that exact location, of all the places on stage, that location where the scene dropped. That was all Jonathan could tolerate.

You can't believe in this! Jonathan chided. I have two children to tell that their mother is dead, and you are telling me this outlandish fable.

I have lived, in silence, with this frightening curse, fearing for my children's safety all my life. I thought it had passed us over, that maybe they were satisfied. They were not. I only told you this to explain why you are not responsible.

Jonathan stood and stormed out of the room. He had to have some time to himself and to try to shake the trauma the fable had worked on him. Paul and Christine saw their father in the garden and dashed down to greet him. Soon after, Elizabeth walked out on the balcony and saw Jonathan holding the children. They were crying. He had told them in his own way.

The ordinarily happy duty of the matriarch this day was one of great sorrow. The bible was open and dated and scribed with the death of Millicent Josephine Downing Steele. The ink, still wet on the parchment, gave Elizabeth a moment for prayer before closing the bible. She prayed for the end of the manifestation of evil perpetrated on the Downing heirs. She prayed that the sacrifice of her precious daughter would satisfy the wrongs of her ancestors. The ink was dry, and as she was about to place a scarlet satin ribbon over the page, she could not bring herself to do it. Her daughter deserved something more. She removed the gold crucifix and chain from around her neck, kissed it, and laid it on the page and slowly closed the bible.

The next few weeks were a struggle to get through. Jonathan had not resumed his role at the theater. He could hardly manage to take care of himself much less the children. The housekeeper was taking care of the necessities, but they missed their mother. Beatrice visited frequently. Paul and Christine loved her. She was loving and made them feel good. She was beginning to realize what she had missed, not having children.

One day, Jonathan asked Beatrice to meet him for tea. He arrived early and picked a secluded table where they would not be disturbed or overheard. He met her in the lobby and led her to the table.

This is a pleasant surprise, Jonathan. It's so good to see you getting out. What is this all about? The server brought a tier of sandwiches and sweets and poured a cup of tea for each.

That will be all until I motion for you.

I'm sorry, Christine is not with us. She loves to go to four o'clock tea, Beatrice related to Jonathan, hoping he might take notice of the suggestion.

Jonathan said that was the purpose of his invitation. I can't go on like this. I will never forgive myself. I am unhappy and still despondent, and that is not a good environment for the children. I am planning to go to America. I need to get away. It's the only answer.

You are despondent, unhappy? It's all about you. Don't you think they feel the same way? They need their father, his love and attention. You must get control of yourself.

I've lost control of my emotions. That is bad, I know, but I can't help it. I can't work. I will never be able to set foot on that stage again. I can't sleep. When I close my eyes, I see her face distorted with fear. That is the last memory I have of my beloved Millicent. Please help me. No, help the children. Take them to live with you and Harold.

I don't know what to say. I must discuss this with my husband. Have you told Mother?

No, I wanted to ask you first.

First? You are not going to ask my mother to take responsibility of two very young children? You need to reevaluate your priorities. This has been hard on all of us. You are a grown man. Act like one. With that, Beatrice stood, threw down her linen napkin, and left the table.

Beatrice was furious. She called Harold and asked him to meet her for cocktails. After relating the tea fiasco, Harold took her hand and said, Would you consider his proposal? You love them, and they need a loving woman to nurture them.

Would you consider raising the children? Beatrice answered with a question. Paul is a fine boy, and you could raise him as your son. Harold interrupted to say that Jonathan would be coming back someday. You are right. That wouldn't be fair to you to invest your heart in Paul and have Jonathan rip it out when he returned. Let's think about it overnight and decide after we talk with Mother. They agreed and enjoyed the remaining hours together.

Later in the week, everyone was at the mansion. A decision had been made. Jonathan told the children that his theater group is going to America to put the play on in New York. They will live with Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Harold while he is gone. Paul wanted to know how long that would be. Jonathan told him he did not know. You will be well taken care of and loved by your aunt and uncle. Grandmother Downing will take you to tea every week and Paul you can help at the stables on the days you're not in school.

Christine began to cry. Don't you love your aunt Beatrice? Jonathan asked. She will spoil you, I know. He took her in his lap and told her he loved her very much and would miss her. I'll be back before you miss me. The cook called them to the kitchen for hot, fresh-baked cookies. The timing could not have been better.

Paul came out of the kitchen and threw himself on his father's lap, begging to go with him. You are not coming back. I know it. I want to go. Please don't leave me. He was sobbing and felt abandoned by the one parent he had left.

Your son needs you, Elizabeth said emotionally. Take him to Canada with you. It will do you both good. You have cousins galore in Coldwater. I am sure they have children Paul's age. Is that agreeable with you? she asked Beatrice.

Whatever makes the children happy was her reply. Beatrice looked at Harold for his approval. She knew he was looking forward to Paul's company. He nodded in compliance.

Jonathan and Paul sailed the following week, leaving Christine alone and brokenhearted. She was nestled between Grandmother Downing and her aunt, each holding a hand. For the second time in her short life, she had lost the people most dear to her.

Beatrice and Harold did everything they could to make her happy, taking her to high tea and shopping as she had become accustomed. They kept her busy, keeping her mind off her father and brother. She was young, and time eventually mended her broken heart.

CHAPTER TWO

Monte Carlo 1915

Christine looked out from her bedroom window at the cliffs leading down to the ocean. The seagulls driven by the high winds were riding them to a crest and then swooping down to a glide onto the beach below. The window seat was Christine's favorite place to sit and think. A breeze gently blew the Belgium lace curtain over her papers. She tucked the curtain behind her shoulder and grabbed the sheet of stationery as it floated off her lap. It was a list of friends to help celebrate her seventeenth birthday. Her aunt interrupted the juggling act when she danced into the room, waving an invitation in her hand. We are spending Saturday evening at the Darrieux's. Her dinner parties are always so exquisite. Will you mind being alone?

She reminded her aunt that she was no longer a baby and that the mansion was full of servants. No longer a baby, she repeated and caught herself reminiscing on the past. So much had happened in so short a time since her father had abandoned her. Uncle Harold was killed in a racing car accident. She traveled to Paris, Salzburg, then Monte Carlo, where she met the count. The lace curtain blew across her face and brought her back to reality.

Oh, Beanie, I'm sorry. I lost track of what we were doing. Her vivacious aunt, Countess Beatrice Ludendoff, is affectionately called Beanie by Christine since as a small child, she could not pronounce her aunt's name.

See if I have forgotten anyone. Christine read off the names on the sheet, which included her beloved grandmother in London. It brought a frown to Beatrice's face, and she took Christine in her arms and reinforced the fact that she missed her mother also.

You realize she will not be able to come, don't you? The worry line deepened. This brings to mind a subject we must discuss with the count. He has suggested---Beatrice paused, looking into Christine's eyes---that you should join your father in America for your own safety. Beatrice did not see the glimmer of understanding she wanted.

Christine pushed away from her aunt's embrace. That is impossible! I would never leave you regardless of how bad it gets, Christine declared.

She dropped the subject, not wanting to put a damper on Christine's excitement over her party. The First World War was escalating, and the count had lost all of his young workers. He was not worried, as he did not anticipate a long duration of the war. His remaining older men could still handle the maintenance of the olive fields. Nevertheless, the count was becoming more concerned for everyone's safety. They heard that day that the Germans had bombed England. It was the first air raid on Christine and Beatrice's beloved country. They worried about their relatives, especially Grandmother Elizabeth. She was still living in the manor with her housekeeper, Mrs. Mobley, probably the safest place in London.

Christine thought back to Uncle Harold. If he had not died in that horrible auto race they would still be living in London. Christine had grown to love her uncle like a father. He had been there all those years for her after her father left. She had hoped that her father and brother would have come back for the funeral out of respect. After all, Harold had assumed Jonathan's parental duties when he abandoned her. At least Paul sent his sympathy and said he did not know how to get in touch with their father. Neither had ever returned for any reason.

Christine has mixed emotions regarding her father. She hardly remembers him. She was only six years old when he left with Paul. She now referred to him as her matinee idol gypsy father. He had not come back for a visit, written, or sent for Christine since leaving eleven years earlier. Paul, on the other hand, wrote occasionally from Coldwater, Canada. He was in college and would graduate soon. His letters did not have much to say about their father. Once he wrote that their father was acting again. He had a small part in a New York play.

Devastating news today had caused the count to reevaluate the date Christine should leave Monte Carlo. The sinking of the Lusitania highly troubled him. He knew Germany was not observing the rules of war and America might get involved. He wanted to get his wife and Christine to America and safety while the United States was still neutral. When he suggested to his wife that she take Christine to America, she refused to go. She made it perfectly clear that her place was with her husband, but she agreed to let Christine go to her father after she finished school in the fall.

Beatrice could not tolerate the thought of her leaving. She loved Christine like her own. She would miss her desperately, but did not want her in harm's way. She asked her husband if it would be wise to wait and if the seas were safe. She reminded him that this will be the first time for her to travel alone. She had a million questions and doubts.

Fredric assured her that within his power, he would pick the appropriate time and place to sail. He was highly respected and had influential friends in the government. Beatrice knew he would make the right decision.

In September, Zeppelins raided London. He realized the Germans were becoming more aggressive and gaining power. The time was right. He made plans to get Christine on a liner leaving England. That was the safest shipping lane. The United States was watching Germany's actions closely after the tragic sinking of the Lusitania. He discovered that the few ships leaving Europe were overflowing, and it would be January before space was available. He could have contacted one of his influential friends, but he knew his wife would appreciate the extra time with Christine. He felt confident that would be soon enough.

Beatrice and the count sat down with Christine and told her of their plan. She seemed serene and listened in silence. However, when her uncle asked her if she agreed with them, she refused the idea. She would not go. The very idea of leaving her aunt brought tears to her eyes. Can't you go with me, Beanie? I will miss you terribly.

Beatrice took Christine in her arms and told her it will not be forever but it will seem like it. I cannot think of the loneliness we will have to endure, but you will be renewing your life with your father and brother. You will not be lonely.

Not true! Christine told them again she did not want to go to her father. She hardly remembered him, and she was certain he long ago had forgotten her. He had never written or returned to see his daughter growing up into a beautiful woman. There was no love lost in their relationship. She told her aunt that it would be like two strangers meeting.

When she was very young, she missed him and prayed he would return for her. Now, she felt only disgust. He had thought only of himself when her mother died. Grandmother Downing forced him to take his son only to have left Paul with a relative when he arrived in Canada. Paul was another story. He had made the effort to keep in touch and Christine would only agree to go to Paul.

Beatrice tried to convince Christine that enough time had passed for her father to have straightened himself out. She believed he missed her and would want to make up for the lost years. Christine wanted to believe her aunt. She was curious.

This is what we will do. We will contact your father and brother and find out exactly where they are. Paul is still a young man and living in the backwoods of Canada. I do not believe that is the proper place for a young woman. You told me your father is in New York? Christine gave a confirming nod.

Beatrice contacted a number of theatrical houses in New York. Jonathan was found acting in an off Broadway play. He acknowledged Beatrice's telegram and seemed pleased. He would be waiting for Christine at the docks. Christine's safety was her first priority; nevertheless, Beatrice had her reservations, remembering London and how he acted after his wife's death. It was like yesterday. Just thinking about that time, so long ago, drove Beatrice to pour herself a glass of wine. She took it out to the pool and slid into a lounge chair under an umbrella. Reliving that horrendous day, the memories it refreshed, saddened Beatrice. She returned to the house from the pool, praying she was doing the right thing sending her beloved Christine to Jonathan.

Christine had only agreed to their urgings if she could have one last visit with her grandmother before sailing. The count, recognized as a yachting enthusiast, would not be questioned regarding the extended trip he had planned. He did not divulge