She gasped at the sizable welt on his face that was already beginning to swell. “Let’s put something cold on it.”
She knew it. She’d been right to worry about his anarchist activities. Every time she’d warned him, he’d brushed her off, insisting he’d already cut back on the number of meetings so that the authorities wouldn’t notice. That cretin Mark. He’d given Fritz plenty of grief at work lately, too.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Starved.” He sat down at the table with a tired harrumph. “Did Fran make it home all right? I was worried about her. They’re after Italian anarchists, especially. Had they gotten a hold of her…” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I care about her, Al.”
She nodded grimly. “Everyone can see that, Brother. It’s all over your face. And she made it home just fine.”
He tried to smile but winced as the movement disturbed the tender spot on his cheek.
Alma hesitated, wanting to tell him about Fran. But this wasn’t Alma’s business, or her secret to tell. It was between Fran and Fritz. Good God, how would he take the news of the baby? A wave of sympathy for them both washed over her. They gazed at each other with such adoration. They’d be devastated to part ways.
She pushed a heaping plate of food in front of him, and he dug into it with gusto.
“Thanks.”
She watched him eat for a moment, trying to decide how to tell him about her engagement without mentioning Fran. She’d have to censor the truth, something she’d never been very good at.
“Fitz,” she began, “there’s something you should know.” Hearing the warning in her voice, he looked up, mouth full of pork schnitzel. “I’m going to break my engagement to John Lambert. I’ll tell Mama and Robert tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?” he said. “They won’t like it, and you know how Robert can be.”
“I’ve just learned some pretty wretched things about John.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s a scoundrel, Fritz. I can’t marry him. I won’t.”
“You sound relieved.” He took a large bite, gravy dripping from his fork onto his shirt.
“I’m… Yes, I’m relieved, and also disturbed.”
“So what happened? How did you discover this?”
“I can’t tell you yet, but it isn’t good.”
He put down his fork, concern etched on his face. “Tell me now, Al.”
She shook her head. “I need to take care of a few things, but I promise, I’ll tell you everything when the time is right.”
He sighed and pushed his plate in front of him. “I don’t like the sound of that, but I guess I’ll have to wait.” He yawned loudly. “I need at least a few hours of sleep. It’s going to be hell at work today.” He stood and placed his strong hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you decide about John is fine by me. I want you to be happy. If he’s a scoundrel, then I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. It’s about time.” He smiled weakly. “I’m next to you, every step of the way.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
As he headed upstairs to bed, she imagined the look on his face when he learned the truth about John and Fran.
“And I’ll be right beside you, too,” she whispered.
42
After a long, sleepless night, Francesca coaxed herself from bed and headed to the kitchen to start the morning preparations. She couldn’t put the look on Alma’s face when she’d learned the truth about the inspector out of her mind. Alma had blamed her, felt betrayed at least at first, and though Francesca understood the reaction, it didn’t make it any easier to see so plainly. She was only glad the secret was out in the open now, at last, and that they’d talked through it. She tied a fresh apron around her middle and gathered the items she needed for the morning’s pastries on the counter.
Helene’s reaction had, perhaps, been the most troubling. If she’d suspected Lambert had been pushing himself on immigrant women all along, and his behavior was something well known among the staff, why hadn’t it been reported? Shouldn’t he be dismissed? It made her sick to think of that bastardo treating others the same way. And now, because of him, she’d have to tell the man she had fallen in love with that she was carrying a baby by another man. A baby she didn’t want but whose undeniable movement in her belly had made her begin to imagine its face.
Her eyes blurred as she sifted flour, salt, and baking powder in a bowl, beat eggs in another, and made a well in the center of the dry mixture to fold in the eggs and cut in the butter. She wiped her wet eyes with her sleeve. At least she knew who she was, and if Fritz didn’t see her now, he never would. She wouldn’t apologize for having done what she’d had to do.
A soft knock came at the servant’s entrance.
Her heart skipped a beat. It could only be Alma or—
She sucked in a breath, padded over to the door, and opened it.
Fritz stood in the pale glow of early morning light, his clothing disheveled and his cheek swollen.
“Oh, caro mio.” She rushed to him, felled by the sight of his broken face. His cheek and his eye were starting to purple. “Are you all right? We were so worried.”
“Is there someplace we can talk?” he said, voice low. “If not, would you mind stepping outside?”
“Of course.” She washed and dried her hands, her pulse racing, and joined him outside on the stoop. Had Alma already told him?
“I was arrested,” he began. “But they let me go a few hours ago. They had nothing on me but lies that I’m pretty sure came from Mark Schumacher. I think he wants my job.” He yawned, covering his mouth. “They gave me hell about being an anarchist, too. I’m sure I’ll have to go round and round with the bosses today.”
“Oh, Fritz,” she said, kissing his hand. “I was so worried.”
“I’m all right, my love.” He laced his fingers in hers. “I wanted to let you know what happened before the day got away from us. Didn’t want you to worry.”
My love.
She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him to her tightly until her secret pressed down on her and she couldn’t breathe.
“Fritz—”
He pulled away, his eyes puzzled. “It feels like you have something under your clothes.” He touched her middle lightly—and stopped. “Francesca?”
She stepped back and gathered her courage. “Fritz, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s not easy and it’s not what you think, but…”
His eyes tightened, his hands falling to his side. “What’s going on, Fran?”
“I didn’t… It wasn’t…” She licked her lips, trying to find the right words. “I had a terrible choice to make that led me here.”
His eyes darkened. “Led you where?”