Free Awaiting the Moon by Donna Lea Simpson

floor on this wing. Follow me.”

    Elizabeth followed the countess up the stairs at the end of the corridor. They were now on the same floor but at the opposite end of the house from her own room, she thought. It was getting a little confusing, but she thought it wouldn’t take her long to sort it out, since she had an excellent sense of direction.
    “This,” Countess Adele said, touching a door opposite the stairs, “is Christoph’s suite of rooms.” She led the way farther down the corridor. “And this is Charlotte’s suite,” Countess Adele said. She rapped sharply on the door and then pushed it open.
    Charlotte von Wolfram was seated by the window with her brother, and they were speaking together rapidly in German. Both stopped abruptly as the countess led Elizabeth in. Christoph rose, bowed sharply, and exited, his boot heels echoing in the hall.
    “Charlotte, say hello to Miss Stanwycke.”
    Charlotte rose, curtseyed, and said, “Hello, Miss Stanwycke.”
    It was a chilly little speech, and the young lady’s gaze was directed, the whole time, at the door behind them, where her brother had just exited. It was awkward. Very awkward.
    “What a pretty room you have,” Elizabeth said, trying to find a topic of interest. The room, Charlotte’s sitting room, was modern, with light papered walls, dreamy paintings hung at intervals, and white-painted furnishings gilded in the French style. The carpeting was thick and patterned with roses and vines.
    “Thank you, Miss Stanwycke.”
    “Charlotte, please meet us down in the yellow morning parlor in one hour. I wish to speak to you both about how Nikolas and I expect things to proceed.”
    At such a cold command, Elizabeth was not surprised at all to see a resentful glare from the girl, though the countess did not seem to notice her niece’s hostility. She would have to soften the command by making the lessons enjoyable for them both. Perhaps at first she would not even try to inculcate much, using the first few days to learn what she could about the girl and her family. If she could befriend her, find out her own feelings on matters, it might go a long way to making their work easier.
    When her niece didn’t respond, Adele merely nodded. “Good. Miss Stanwycke and I are seeing the house right now.” She led the way out of the room, her brisk pace leaving Elizabeth no time to say anything more to the girl or do aught but smile and wave.
    “The other wing, as you know, holds your room, but also the room of Cesare Vitali… that is my brother’s secretary. He is Italian.”
    Again that censure, Elizabeth thought. The countess seemed to censure everyone who was not German. Perhaps she felt the same way about Elizabeth’s nationality. “Is that all in my section?”
    “No. Gerta and her children’s suite of rooms takes up the rest of that end of the house. Above you is… well, let us go and see the others.”
    Rapidly, the countess traversed the main section and up a set of stairs to the new section above Elizabeth’s rooms. It seemed there was no old section; the fourth floor was new section only. “Aunt Katrina’s rooms are here,” she said, passing a door. “And then there is Uta.”
    “Uta?”
    Adele’s face cracked in an odd expression, and Elizabeth realized it was the first time she had seen a smile on the woman’s hard face.
    “Uta. Come.”

    She rapped loudly on the door but didn’t pause as she pushed it open. The room was gloomy, but as her vision adjusted Elizabeth saw that despite the early hour there were several people there. Charlotte must have made her way there by another passage, because she sat by another girl. Frau Liebner was there, and Elizabeth thought she had never been so happy to see another person in her life as she was to see that dear, familiar, obstinate face. But in pride of place by the fire, in an enormous, shabby old chair, was a woman… or what was likely a woman. She was wrapped in voluminous blankets and her