His Majesty's Hope(68)

What if I should have gone back? Maggie thought, starting to doubt herself. What was it she’d said to Noreen before she’d left? “Piece of cake.” Ha! What a fool I was, Maggie thought. This is no game.

She turned and pulled the sheet over her head, braced for nightmares.





Chapter Thirteen


Maggie was unprepared for the sight of Alexandra Oberg the next morning in the sunroom.

Alexandra was slender, with blond braids and enormous sea-blue eyes. She also had an unmistakably burgeoning belly underneath her loose-fitting tea gown. She ran her hands over her bump possessively. Maggie guessed that the girl was at least in her third trimester, if not close to her due date, and suddenly realized why she might need a “companion.”

“Guten morgen, Fräulein Oberg,” Maggie said, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Alexandra carefully lowered herself into one of the parlor chairs. “So, how is Papa treating you?” she asked.

“I haven’t had too much to do with your father, actually.”

“He’s worried about me,” Alexandra said, matter-of-factly. “And about the baby. Sit down, please.”

Maggie did. “How far along are you?”

“Thirty-five weeks. Feels like thirty-five months at this point.”

Alexandra’s face was pale and bloated, and her ankles were swollen. But she had a lovely smile. “I was making packages for the front, for a while,” she told Maggie. “But now my doctor wants me to stay at home. Bed rest.”

Maggie had heard of such things in late-stage pregnancy. “High blood pressure?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you lie down on the sofa and we’ll put your feet up. That will help the swelling.”

With a grunt, the girl raised herself, then waddled to the sofa, slipped off her shoes, and slowly lowered herself. Maggie took a number of needlepoint cushions and slid them under her charge’s feet to elevate them. “I’m supposed to be like this all day, but I get so bored,” Alexandra said. “Still, I know I’m lucky.”

“Oh?” Maggie said, trying to sound neutral. She’d never heard of an unwed mother refer to herself as “lucky.”

“I’m a ‘bride of Hitler’—carrying a baby for the Fatherland. It’s the greatest honor a racially pure woman can have.” Alexandra’s face fell slightly. “Even if my father doesn’t quite see it that way. But it’s every German woman’s duty—to bear as many children as possible for the Führer.” She patted her belly. “His father is Aryan—Nordic, of course. And after I’ve delivered I will give the child up to the Lebensborn.” The girl’s eyes shone with resolve.

“And the father?”

“He’s in the East, at the Russian front. An officer,” she said proudly. “He is doing his duty, and I am doing mine.”

“Were you … in love with him?”

“Gods, no!” Alexandra laughed. “We were at Mädchen camp and there was a party, a big bonfire with the Hitler Youth … Well,” she said, finally blushing, “you can imagine what happened.”

Maggie blinked, trying to take it all in. “Would you like anything to drink? Eat? Do you need a blanket?”

“Oh, I’m fine now that you’re here.” Alexandra closed her eyes. “Maybe you could read to me? There’s a copy of the Frauen Warte on the table there—would you read one of the articles?”

Maggie picked it up, a weekly Nazi magazine for women. On the cover was a drawing of massive German artillery, taking aim at a map of Great Britain. The cover caption read, The Rhythm of Labor Resounds Again in Our Nation’s Factories! We Have Clenched the Fist That Will Force England to the Ground!

Maggie fought a shudder. “Perhaps something lighter?”

“There’s a piece about German women,” Alexandra said, laying her arm over her eyes and settling in. “I’d like to hear that again.”

“Of course, gnädiges Fräulein.” And so Maggie read aloud, “We Women in the Struggle for Germany’s Renewal”—and tried to keep herself from screaming.


Evening Mass at St. Hedwig’s ended with Father Licht’s daily final blessing: “I pray for the priests in the concentration camps, for the Jews, for the non-Aryans. What happened yesterday, we know. What will happen tomorrow, we don’t. But what happened today, we lived through. Outside, the Synagogue is burning. It, too, is a house of God …”

Afterward, Father Licht found Elise. “And how are our friends doing?” the priest asked.