Page 74 of The Gathering Storm (Morland Dynasty #36)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Le Chapeau Rose was up in the hills above Los Angeles, and the view was spectacular.
The food was exceptionally good, featuring French delicacies such as tripes à la mode de Caen , sautéed frogs’ legs with fines herbes , calf’s brains, s alade Nicoise , and guinea hen with chestnuts and sage.
It was very much a ‘celebrity’ restaurant, which meant there were always reporters and photographers hanging around to see who was there and with whom, and Lennie had been slightly surprised that Anthea had asked him to take her there.
But, after all, he reasoned, she had to keep herself in the public eye.
His first hint that something was afoot was when the ma?tre d’ escorted them to ‘your special table, M’sieu ’.
A glance at Anthea’s complacent expression told him that she must have telephoned ahead and arranged it.
The table was in the corner with the best view over the hills, but was visible to the press, who were corralled on the terrace below.
A waiter arrived with champagne almost before they had been eased into their seats and had their napkins tenderly laid in their laps.
Anthea was wearing a very low-cut and almost backless black evening dress glittering all over with jet spars, her hair piled up and held with jet ornaments and black feathers.
She wore diamond earrings – a gift from him, as it happened – and a pendant necklace, which was not from him and which, if it was a real diamond, represented a significant investment by some other benefactor.
He suspected it might be imitation, but it sparkled all right in the candlelight.
Lennie waited until they had ordered and the staff had gone, then raised his glass to his companion, sipped the champagne, and said, ‘What’s all this about? Am I missing something?’ A guilty thought struck him. ‘It’s not your birthday, is it?’
She answered, with a vivacious smile, ‘I’d soon let you know if you’d forgotten that! Besides, there’s nothing to celebrate about being a year older, is there?’
He thought she wanted reassurance. ‘You are ageless, my dear.’
She made an impatient gesture. ‘I didn’t bring you here to discuss that.’
He smiled. ‘I thought I brought you here. If you hope to pay for my dinner, I have to tell you that I cling to some old-fashioned views, and one of those is that a lady doesn’t pay.’
She leaned forward a little, allowing him a glimpse of her creamy bosom. ‘I like that you know how to treat a lady. You would never raise false hopes in a girl and then let her down.’
‘My dear Anthea, what are you talking about?’
She waved a hand around, indicating the restaurant, with its starry candles, gliding waiters, hushed-voiced clients, and the view over the hills, across the fairy-lit terrace below. ‘Romantic, isn’t it? Just the sort of place young lovers would choose to come to celebrate their love.’
‘I doubt young lovers could afford it,’ Lennie said. ‘It’s definitely for those who’ve already arrived.’
Now she was cross. ‘I’m trying to set an atmosphere here. Couldn’t you at least hold my hand across the table?’
‘I think that sort of thing is frowned on at Le Chapeau. And, besides, there are certainly people from the press down there watching your every move.’ He studied her face. ‘Or is that part of the plan? Am I sensing there’s an agenda to this evening?’
She reached across and took his hand, and he was too much of a gentleman to pull away. ‘How long have we been seeing each other, Lennie dear?’
‘Several months, I suppose,’ he said warily.
‘Over a year. We met in New York last January. Don’t you think it’s time to move things on a little?’
‘Move on? We are already sleeping together.’ He saw her blush of annoyance. ‘Though of course no-one but us must ever know about it. Except your maid, of course. And my driver – but he’s as discreet as an oyster. You needn’t worry. Your reputation remains unsullied.’
She pulled her hand back crossly. ‘You are deliberately misunderstanding me. It’s not polite to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. When are you going to ask me to marry you?’
He had, of course, realised by now what she was driving at, but had hoped being obtuse would warn her off without having to come to specifics. With a sigh, he said quietly, ‘I have no plans to get married. Not now, and not ever.’
‘You can’t say that! Everyone knows about us. We’ve been seen everywhere. And we’re good together. Aren’t we? Don’t we have fun?’
‘You are a delightful companion. But, Anthea, tell me truthfully – do you love me?’ She didn’t answer, avoided his eyes, and wriggled a little in the chair. ‘Then why this sudden desire to marry me?’
‘It’s not sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.
You go out with someone for long enough, you’re supposed to marry them.
People expect it. And, just think, Lennie,’ she leaned forward again and recaptured his hand, ‘we could have a fabulous wedding. The Hollywood wedding of the year! A wonderful honeymoon – Palm Beach, Paris, anywhere! Set up house together. The dinner parties we’d give!
We’d be the golden couple – people would kill for an invite!
Wouldn’t it be wonderful? Really, don’t you see? ’
‘I can see that there would be endless articles about us in all the magazines,’ Lennie said. Her expression was eager. ‘It would be good for your career, wouldn’t it?’
She almost said yes , then spotted the trap, and pouted. ‘You’re just being mean. I can’t help it if publicity is a consideration. You always knew I was an actress.’
‘I don’t want to be mean. I respect your career, and I’ve never minded being seen to escort you. I’m glad if that’s helped you along. But I can’t marry you purely for publicity.’
‘It’s not purely for publicity. Of course I love you, as well.’
‘Do you?’
‘Of course I do. Let me tell you, there are dozens of men who want to go out with me, and I’ve turned them all down for you.’
Lennie sought to ease the slight for her. ‘I’m not the right man for you. You need someone more flamboyant, someone who’s happy in the limelight.’
‘But—’
‘I have to tell you, I have no heart. I gave it away a long, long time ago.’
She looked suspicious. ‘We’re not talking about Rose, are we? Really, that would be so—’
‘Of course it’s not Rose! It’s not anyone in Hollywood. Please, can we drop the subject now? I’m as sorry as can be, but I can’t marry you.’
The waiters arrived with their first course, and she subsided into silence.
Lennie was afraid she might storm out, make a scene, but when they were alone again, she addressed her plate with the appetite that was one of the things he had always liked about her – some stars didn’t like to be seen to eat in public, preferring to project an image of a spirituality above food.
After a few forkfuls she said, ‘Well, that’s a bust!
Still, can’t blame a girl for trying. At least smile at me, can’t you?
Try to look as if we’re having a romantic evening. ’
He realised that, knowing the press was down below watching, she would not want them to report they’d had a disagreement.
It was a mad thing, this relationship between Hollywood and the fourth estate.
Perhaps all Hollywood stars were a little mad because of it.
He wondered if she would want to go on seeing him now – whether that would fit her narrative.
He knew, however, that he did not want it.
He had enjoyed her company all these months, but now he was not sure who it was he had been enjoying.
At the end of the war, Austria had been a broken country, stripped of its empire, its economy in ruins.
The idea of Anschlu? – joining together – with Germany to form the new country of Greater Germany had first been raised in the 1870s.
It was expressly forbidden by the Treaty of Versailles and the Treaty of Saint-Germain, but still it enjoyed some support in Austria; though nationalists, along with Jews and many Catholics, were hostile to the idea.
‘This is one of those European problems that’s been simmering for generations,’ Bertie said to Jessie, as they rode side by side one fine, blowy March day.
‘Originally it was Austria that proposed a union of all Germanic states, under Austrian leadership. But of course Prussia wanted to be top dog, and after a couple of quick wars, Bismarck got his way, united Germany under Prussia, and excluded Austria entirely.’
‘Didn’t that settle it?’ Jessie said, turning a lock of mane back the right way. The horse turned an enquiring ear back to her, then pricked it again, knowing they were heading home.
‘A lot of Austrians are German by blood, and most of them are National Socialists, so union with Germany is back on the agenda.’
‘Who cares?’ said Laura, riding up on his other side.
One of Polly’s dependants, she lived nominally at Morland Place, but spent more time at Twelvetrees than there.
She’d been having difficulties with the youngster she was riding, and had hung back to teach him some manners.
‘Austria, Germany – it’s nothing to do with us, is it? ’
‘We can’t let German expansion go unchecked,’ Bertie said. ‘If they’re allowed to take the rest of Europe, they’ll come for us next.’
Jessie knew that Bertie was abstracted. The subject had been triggered that morning by an item in the newspaper saying that the Austrian chancellor, Kurt Schuschnigg, a nationalist, had announced a referendum on Austrian independence.
‘Are you really worried, dear?’ she asked him. ‘Will the Austrians vote for union with Germany?’
‘I’m afraid it hardly matters,’ he said. ‘The Germans take what they want. They took the Saar, they took the Rhineland. Austria is the obvious next step. Hitler is Austrian by birth, you know.’
‘I didn’t know,’ said Jessie.