Page 4 of When Stars Light the Sky (The Women of Midtown #2)

3

Benedict Kincaid spent the morning cleaning up a series of gaffes made by Ambassador Gerard.

When James Gerard arrived in Berlin late last year, he freely shared his poor opinion of the squat, ugly building that housed the U.S. Embassy and wanted something grander. His loudmouthed criticisms insulted the German architect of the original embassy, and his behavior reflected badly on the United States. Thus Benedict spent the morning signing a flurry of legal forms to break their lease on the building, paid the early termination fee, and soothed offended sensibilities. It was all part of his job at the embassy, working behind the scenes to ensure the ambassador’s success.

Tension began to unwind as Benedict walked home toward the Alton House, where most of the embassy staff lived. This tree-lined street was his favorite in all of Berlin. It was fittingly named Linden Avenue, for the long street was shaded by hundred-year-old linden trees planted at regular intervals, creating a tunnel of greenery arching over the cobblestone lane. Dignified houses nestled on large plots of land well back from the street. Some were owned by wealthy merchants, but most were leased by various foreign embassies for their staff. The residential neighborhood had a timeless atmosphere of peace and stability. They were in the heart of urban Berlin, and yet the air was still alive with birdsong and the scent of lilac and sweet autumn clematis.

He walked up the graveled path to Alton House. Ivy climbed the walls, covering most of the stonework on the first floor, cleared only around the mullioned windows. The steeply pitched roof had a number of dormer windows, each one denoting a bedroom tucked within. Nine people, all embassy employees, had made their home here for the six years that Benedict had been stationed in Berlin. During that time, they’d grown to feel like a family. Mercifully, Ambassador Gerard and his wife chose to live in the residential apartments on the top floor of the new American Embassy, meaning the staff could relax here at Alton House.

A cluster of employees gathered around the dining table positioned at the far end of the kitchen. Most were dressed casually, but one man was in uniform. Colonel Reyes was their military attaché whose job it was to monitor Germany’s military prowess and advise how it might affect the United States. He clenched a telegram in his hands, and the rest of the staff looked grim.

“What’s happening?” Benedict asked.

Colonel Reyes held the telegram aloft. “Ambassador Gerard is due back in Berlin tomorrow.”

That explained the glum faces. None of them liked the fickle leadership of James Gerard, and his absence over the past few weeks had been delightful.

He wandered forward to join the group. All were men except Mrs. Barnes the cook and her assistant Nellie Chapman. Nellie scooted aside to make room for him at the kitchen table, but he remained standing. It wouldn’t do to appear close to a young woman because he had to be on guard against rumors, even inside Alton House.

Benedict studied the telegram, reporting the imminent arrival of the ambassador along with Inga Klein, a new secretary who would be joining their household. He hoped Miss Klein was a woman of strong fortitude who could stand up to the ambassador.

“We will make Miss Klein welcome,” he said reluctantly, then glanced at Nellie. “Keep an eye on her. Befriend her and gain her trust. We cannot assume Ambassador Gerard will have chosen wisely.” Secretaries could get their hands on almost anything inside an embassy, and he doubted Gerard went through the proper channels to verify the woman’s suitability.

“We can’t even trust Ambassador Gerard to walk across the street without embarrassing himself,” Larry Milton whined. “He is a complete and total dilettante.”

Larry was Benedict’s secretary and had been here for years. His fretful hypochondria seemed to get worse with age, but Larry was loyal, and that counted for a lot.

Nevertheless, the contempt for Ambassador Gerard among the staff was getting out of hand. As the ranking career diplomat, Benedict needed to set the tone among the embassy staff. He spoke kindly, but firmly.

“Ambassador Gerard has the faith of our president and enjoys friendships with many of the kaiser’s sons. I expect each person here to treat him with respect. Europe is tottering on the edge of war, and our only concern should be to support President Wilson’s desire to keep the United States neutral. Our embassy will be a haven of peace, a beacon of hope in an otherwise dark world. Understood?”

Colonel Reyes lifted a cynical brow. “ We understand that. Does Ambassador Gerard?”

It was a good question, and one which Benedict still could not answer.

“At least Mrs. Gerard can sometimes rein him in,” Colonel Reyes said. “I once saw the ambassador tell the wife of a rich industrialist that she’d be better served buying her gowns in London or New York instead of Berlin. The lady took it as a personal insult, and Mrs. Gerard rushed to compliment Mrs. Schmitt’s gown. Apparently, Mrs. Schmitt’s husband owns the largest clothing factory in Munich. Mrs. Gerard made a point of visiting the factory and arranged for Macy’s to place a large order for their department stores in New York.”

It was a clever move. Benedict had to admit that Mrs. Gerard was helping smooth over some of her husband’s more egregious blunders. Navigating different cultures and forming ties with the wives of local dignitaries could quietly work magic behind the scenes. Life as an ambassador’s wife could be a lonely job. Many ambassadors left their wives back in America, so he had to give Mary Gerard credit for accepting the heavy responsibilities that came along with accompanying her husband to Berlin.

“Mrs. Gerard is a credit to the embassy,” he said. “Whatever our feelings for her husband, or the new secretary he is bringing, we must grin and make the best of it.”

But Benedict would be watching them both like a hawk.