Scent of Triumph by Jan Moran Page B

the fresh smell of Nicky’s silky hair in the summer sun. His laughter tinkled in her ears, and she could feel his soft cheek against hers.
If only he had come with us.
She shook her head again, pushing the thought that endlessly tortured her from her mind.
    Libby, fresh-faced in a blue woolen morning dress, sat on the floral chintz sofa and patted a spot next to her. “It’s so nice to have company in the house. I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave.”
    Danielle sat beside her and grasped Libby’s tiny hand. She cherished the sturdy little woman, who always smelled of Floris Lavender and who, so quickly, had become like a surrogate mother to her. She gave her a warm smile. “We’ll always keep in touch.”
    With a sly grin, Libby lifted a silver dome from the tray.
    Danielle’s eyes grew wide at the sight. So she hadn’t been imagining this time.
“Croissants! I thought I smelled them! But where did you find them?” Rations were underway in England, and butter, a prime ingredient in croissants, was in short supply.
    Libby laughed. “His Majesty sent a basket of delicacies to Herb, thanking him for his work. Not that thanks were needed, mind you, but it was a nice gesture.”
    Danielle nodded. Since war had been declared, Herb Leibowitz and Nathan Newell-Grey had spent hours consulting with the government, Herb on financial matters, and Nathan on Naval defense.
    Sarah coaxed a bright blaze in the fireplace, then poured coffee, clucking her tongue as she did.
    “Sarah still disapproves of my love of coffee in the morning,” Libby said with a smile, “but I prefer my tea in the afternoon. Thank you, Sarah. That will be all.” She turned to Danielle. “Strawberry jam with your croissant?”
    “Sounds wonderful.” Danielle pinched off a piece of croissant, spread jam on it, and put it into her mouth, savoring the taste. “How is Mr. Newell-Grey? And Jon? We haven’t seen him in ages.”
    Libby shook her head. “Nathan and Jon have been busy converting Newell-Grey ocean liners for military service, making room for military equipment. Even the
Queen Mary
will be pressed into service next year. I understand there are plans to paint her charcoal and call her the Grey Ghost.”
    So, Jon had his hands full.
It’s just as well
, Danielle thought, recalling how close they’d become aboard the
Newell-Grey Explorer
. In fact, from the instant they’d met, she had felt a connection with Jon. She pushed the thought from her mind, though an odd pang of regret persisted.
    “Coffee?”
    “Hmm? Oh yes, thank you, Libby.” She shook her head. “I’ve had a lot on my mind this morning.”
    Libby poured a cup and handed it to her. “Did you hear the morning news on the radio?”
    Danielle felt her pulse quicken. France had joined England in the war against Germany, and both countries were well underway with military plans. “No, what happened?”
    “Russia and Germany have signed a treaty establishing a line of demarcation through Poland.”
    Her hand wavering, she put the cup down. She pushed her croissant away, swallowing hard against the bile that suddenly rose in her throat.
    Libby touched Danielle’s hand, and went on. “The Polish government has fled to France.”
    “That means Poland has been divided between the victors.” Danielle pressed her hand to her mouth.
The denouement.
No doubt, this would complicate their plan to find Nicky and Sofia.
    Libby put her coffee down and placed her arm across Danielle’s shoulder, pulling her close. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”
    “Oh, Libby, it’s all so horrible.” She sighed and leaned into the small woman, grateful for her comfort. Her head swirled. When would this madness stop?
    Suddenly, Max opened the door and rushed in, waving a telegram in his hand. “This came just as I returned. It’s from Jean-Claude.”
    Danielle leapt to her feet. “
Mon Dieu!
” Hope and dread surged in her heart.
    Max gave it to Danielle. “Here, you open it.”
    Libby