Velvet Undercover Read online

  I watch Miss Baum as she speaks. Her gestures are animated and her brown eyes are alert. Actually, I think with a pang, her mannerisms are very similar to my cousin Rose’s.

  Around us, the children play hoops and ball, and even the girls run about as if they’ve been cooped up forever. As the others talk, mostly about the children, I glance from Miss Baum to Lillian, wondering which one could actually be Velvet. Miss Baum has more opportunity and freedom to be a spy—Lillian is hampered by her work with the children. On the other hand, as friendly as the duchess and Marissa Baum are, because of America’s noncommittal stance toward the war, Miss Baum’s heritage would make her somewhat suspect—but then so would Lillian’s French parentage. And yet here they both are, practically members of the family.

  On first impression, Lillian seems much more mature and serious, while Miss Baum seems far more adventurous, having traveled from America to Germany on a whim.

  “What brings you to Germany, Miss Baum?” I ask. I blush, realizing that I’ve interrupted the duchess.

  “Please call me Marissa. All this formality makes me wild. We don’t hold to such customs in the States.”

  “No, Marissa is from the Wild West,” the duchess says with a smile.

  “I’d hardly call Chicago the West, nor is it wild. It’s almost as big as Berlin, though the only palaces we have are on Lake Shore Drive.” She grins as if making a joke, then moves on, realizing that none of us understood it. “Sorry, that’s where the wealthy people live. Anyhow, I came because I wanted to get to know my German cousins better. I was hoping for a European tour, but when I realized you all were having a war over here, I thought it would be prudent to postpone my trip for a while.” Her nose wrinkles as she grins.

  My brows rise. “Your parents let you come all the way here alone, during a conflict?”

  Her eyes zero in on mine. “How inquisitive you are!” she exclaims. “In America, young women are much freer in their movements, especially when they have oodles of money. And how about you? Your family didn’t mind you traveling about willy-nilly by yourself during a war? You look younger than I am.”

  “I’m actually twenty. How old are you?” I counter, trying to steer the conversation away from myself.

  “Twenty? Really? You’re older than I am!” She turns to the others. “She looks far younger, doesn’t she?”

  My stomach knots as everyone looks at my face. Thankfully, Marissa is suddenly distracted by two of the children. “Wilhelm! Louis! Do you want to hear more about the Indians?”

  Marissa and the duchess wander off with the children in tow, leaving Lillian and me alone.

  “I’m sorry if I offended anyone,” I say to Lillian. “I’m not really used to social chatter. Life in my village was very quiet in comparison to the palace.”

  Lillian shakes her head. “Don’t worry. The duchess is actually very modern in spite of her upbringing. Her friendship with Miss Baum attests to that.”

  “When did Miss Baum arrive?” I ask.

  “About five months ago. Everyone was surprised at how quickly she ingratiated herself with the duchess, but I think they’re just being mean-spirited. Miss Baum is very nice and fresh and has quite a good mind. She amuses the duchess, who needs all the amusement she can get.”

  “Why is that?” I ask. I don’t want Lillian to think I’m a gossip, but I have no other way to obtain the information I need.

  Lillian lowers her voice. “Well, beyond the obvious problems in her marriage, there is a lot of infighting among the kaiser’s sons that extends to their wives. As the wife of the heir apparent, Duchess Cecilie is a target. Plus, she’s half Russian, and with all the conflict in Russia . . .” Lillian shrugs. “Well, it’s no wonder she enjoys Miss Baum. Her conversation is more than just palace intrigue and war talk.”

  Again, I try to think of something that might out Lillian as Velvet if she is indeed her. “But what will Miss Baum do if the Americans enter the war?”

  Lillian looks at me, her blue eyes wide with horror. “Oh, you don’t think that’ll happen, do you? Why would they? This doesn’t concern them!”

  I’d forgotten that I, being from England, no doubt had knowledge of things that the Germans wouldn’t read in their daily newspapers.

  I twitch a shoulder. “Who knows what the Americans will do. Is it time to go back in yet?”

  Lillian nods and calls to the children, who clamor about the duchess for their good-bye kisses. When I look at Miss Baum, she is watching the children with a smile. The duchess raises a hand in farewell and I turn away, wondering if Miss Baum could truly be Velvet and how I’m supposed to find out if she is.

  Lillian claps her hands for order as the children line up. A chill wind picks up and I shove my hands in the pockets of Lillian’s sweater. I find a slip of paper in the bottom of one of the pockets and instinctively clasp it against my palm. It’s probably just a note about the children or a lesson, but whatever it is, I need to read it. Maybe it’ll provide insight into who she met with last night or what the meeting was about.

  When I return her sweater, I keep the note crumpled in my palm, then I slip it in the pocket of my skirt, hoping to get a chance to read it before the school day ends.

  I spend the next hour trying to get the children to do simple sums on their slates. All three of my charges are restless, and several times Lillian has to look over at us and call for quiet. My face burns with embarrassment at my own ineptitude and I resist sticking my tongue out at the little heathens. Finally I give up and, in desperation, bring out their pencils and tell them to sketch the small plant in the window. If asked, I’ll just say it’s both art and nature study.

  Turning my back to Lillian, I take the note out of my pocket and open it up.

  As soon as I see it, I draw in a breath.

  It’s in code.

  THIRTEEN

  WKLUWHHQ

  Naked: A spy operating without any kind of backup and very little support.

  “Are you quite all right?” Lillian asks from behind me.

  I crumple the note into a ball in my hand and turn my head. “Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I was just yawning.”

  Her hand comes down on my shoulder and I suppress a shiver. How long has she been standing there?

  “I imagine you’re still tired from your journey,” she says, her voice sympathetic. “We’re almost finished for the day. Why don’t you go ahead and go back to your room. I’ll take the children to their nurse.”

  “Are you quite certain?” I ask, wanting more than anything to go back to my room to break the code and read the note.

  She waves me out, and after bidding the children good-bye, I hurry down the corridor. My heart flutters with anticipation as I race up the servants’ staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

  I have no doubt that I can break the code. If it’s the LDB code, I have the cipher. If it’s not, I’ll just figure it out. I’d love nothing more than to find Velvet this quickly and go home. The longer it takes me to complete the assignment, the greater the chance that I’m going to get caught. Simple mathematics.

  I burst out the door into the hall and run headlong into someone. “Excuse me,” I say in English without thinking.

  My heart slams against my ribs and I quickly follow up in German. “Entschuldigung!” I say, raising my voice.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

  I blink and then smile as I recognize Maxwell. I don’t know why I’m so happy to see him. He’s a German soldier. If he suspects I’m a British spy, he’ll cart me off to prison as quickly as anyone else would. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have noticed my lapse. “Oh, hello! I just finished my first day of teaching.”

  “And it looks as if you couldn’t get away fast enough. Was it that bad, then?” His sincere and warm brown eyes invite confidence and I find myself lost in his gaze for a moment.

  I give myself a mental shake. “Er, no. Of course not. It was lovely. And I got to meet the duchess and Fräulein
Baum.”

  “The duchess? You mean your cousin?” he asks.

  I want to bite my tongue off. “Of course. It’s just difficult to think of her as such under the circumstances. It’s not like we grew up together. I hardly know her. . . .” I let my prattling trail off.

  He inclines his head. “Of course,” he says graciously, ignoring my awkwardness. “As it happens, I was looking for you.”

  “You were?” My voice squeaks upward in surprise and I flush.

  “Yes. I wanted to see how your first day went.” His brown eyes are serious.

  My eyes narrow. Why would he want to know? Is he here as a friend or as a guard? Is there more to his query than simple courtesy? “Did the prince send you, or did you come on your own?”

  It’s his turn to be surprised. “I came on my own. Why would you think the prince sent me?” Comprehension dawns in his eyes. “Oh, no, don’t worry on that account, he’s currently distracted by Mrs. Tremaine. Plus, now that you’re here and caring for his children, I believe he’ll leave you alone. You’re much too close to home, so to speak.”

  “That’s a relief,” I say.

  He gives a surprised laugh. “Funny girl. Many young women would be honored by such attention.”

  “From what I hear, many girls are honored by such attention.” I grin.

  Smiling, he cocks his head to one side. “Well, don’t worry. I don’t think you’ll need to carry your Bible about anymore.”

  Maxwell gives me a knowing look and I blush, knowing I’ve been caught.

  Then he clears his throat. “I also came for another reason. I have Thursday afternoon off and was wondering if you would like to go take in some sights after your duties. Berlin is a magnificent city and I thought you might enjoy an outing.”

  I hesitate. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to get out of the palace, but should I waste time when I could be trying to find Velvet? On the other hand, Maxwell could be a valuable font of information if I work it right. I only feel a small twinge of guilt for using him as I nod. “I’d like that very much.”

  His smile lights up the planes of his face. “Wonderful. I’ll meet you in the servants’ lounge about this time Thursday?”

  He touches his cap and is about to leave when I place a hand on his sleeve. “Wait.”

  He turns to me, inquiring.

  I clear my throat and give an appealing smile. “Fräulein Lillian gave me a short tour of the palace yesterday, but we were interrupted. I’d love to see a bit more now, if you’re free.”

  My face heats, knowing how forward I must seem, but it’s the only way to find out where Miss Baum is staying.

  If he’s surprised, he hides it well. He checks his pocket watch.

  “It’s fine if you don’t have time,” I put in hastily.

  He holds up a hand. “No, I have a bit before I must resume my duties. What would you like to see?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask where the private family apartments are, but that would be too obvious, so I ask for the grand reception area first.

  To my surprise, he takes me through a nondescript door in the servants’ quarters. Once inside, he holds the door open with one foot as he lights a lantern that was sitting on a table just inside the door. After it’s lit, he lets the door behind him close.

  The light casts shadows across his face but I can still see his grin as he leads me down several steps into a dank, dim corridor. “Tunnels!” I say, surprised. “I didn’t know the Stadtschloss had secret tunnels.” I look around in wonder. This is amazing.

  “Most palaces have hidden passageways designed to get the royal family out safely in case of an uprising. The Stadtschloss only has a few actual tunnels, but it has plenty of hidden passageways built in the walls between the formal rooms and the private apartments. It’s often much faster to use them than it is to go the regular route. Some of them, such as this one, are occasionally used by servants. Others, like those that lead to the family rooms and guest rooms, haven’t been used in years.”

  My brain is racing with the implications. If I could learn to navigate the secret passages, I would be better able to come and go as I pleased. Plus, these would be a perfect escape route. “How many servants use this one?” I ask as he leads me down the passageway.

  “Like I said, this one is used more often than the rest, as it leads from the servants’ quarters to the reception areas. And it’s nice and large. Most, like that one”—he nods at a heavy wooden door set in rock—“are much narrower and lead to the children’s area.”

  I take careful note of the door. “The nursery or the schoolroom?”

  He grins. “Both, actually. I bet you’ll be looking for the door tomorrow, won’t you? Don’t feel bad that you haven’t seen it. It’s hidden under a small toy box.”

  Our footsteps seem extraordinarily loud in the empty corridor and the odor of mold mixed with sewage is so strong in places it almost burns my nose. “Not very pleasant,” I say.

  “No,” he agrees. “Most of the maids far prefer to walk the long way, but I figured you were up for an adventure.”

  I glow at his words, but being me, want to know more. “Why would you think that?”

  He grins. “Any young woman as pretty as you would have to love adventure to leave her home and travel across the country during a war.”

  I blink. He thinks I’m pretty?

  “Either that, or have an ulterior motive.” He raises an eyebrow. “Do you have an ulterior motive, Sophia Thérèse?”

  My heart pounds. “I don’t know what you mean,” I choke out.

  He laughs. “I was teasing. No one as nice as you could have an ulterior motive.”

  If only he knew.

  “How about you?” I counter. “How do you know your way around the tunnels so well?”

  It’s his turn to look discomfited. “My father was a friend of Kaiser Wilhelm’s. We stayed often when I was a child. Of course, once I discovered that there was a labyrinth beneath the palace, I couldn’t stop until I had explored it all.”

  I hear the smile in his voice.

  I wish he weren’t so nice. It makes using him for my own ends much harder.

  He points at another door, which has an X scratched into the wood. “That tunnel is barely passable. It leads outside the palace to the Lustgarten across the street. I don’t think it’s been used in years.”

  I’d been to the garden as a child but I don’t remember any secret doors. Of course, that’s probably because they were hidden. “Where does it end?”

  “I think the old opening was under a clump of bushes surrounding the statue of Zeus. I couldn’t follow it all the way; the passage became far too narrow.”

  We reach another set of stairs, which takes us to a narrow hallway. The air is lighter and fresher and I take a deep breath. He then leads me to a door so small I have to duck to go through it. Once I can stand upright again, I look about in confusion. We’re in a tiny, oddly shaped room with a steeply slanted ceiling. “I thought you were taking me to the grand reception room?”

  “I am.” His voice is so close to my ear that I jump, bumping my head on the low ceiling.

  He gives a soft laugh. I turn my head to find his eyes inches from mine and glowing from the light of the lantern. “I wanted you to see this first.”

  I look around and spot several small cushions, a few worn-out stuffed animals, and several books piled in one corner. “What is this place?”

  “The hideout for generations of children who wish to spy on their elders. Look.” He bends and kneels in front of what looks like an illustration from a nursery book that had been tacked to the wall. He moves it sideways and a sudden light shines through. He waves his hand and I bend to look through the hole. It’s not very big, about the size of a coin, but I can see part of an ornate room decorated in gold and blue.

  “We’re under the staircase of the reception room. Come on.”

  He blows out the lantern and carefully opens another small door.
When we emerge, I find myself under the staircase of a reception room so ornate it makes the one in Luxembourg seem almost shabby. I turn back to see him carefully shutting the door behind us. The door is so well hidden that if you weren’t looking for it, you might not even know where it was.

  “Does the kaiser know it’s here?” I wonder aloud.

  “Undoubtedly. I’m sure your young charges do, as well. It’s almost a rite of passage to show it to the next generation. Now, would you like to see the Grand Hall?”

  He holds out his arm and I take it. The Grand Hall leads from the outside to the reception room and is designed to intimidate, with giant tapestries depicting scenes from the Bible and mythology.

  I’m giggling over a particularly horrid rendition of Diana the Huntress when the sound of footsteps reaches me. A tall, reedy man rounds the corner. The relief crossing his face when he spots Maxwell changes quickly to hesitation when his eyes move to me.

  My instincts scream and I freeze even before I see the small black pistol in his hand. Something shoves me, hard, and the next thing I know, I’m sprawling on the floor and Maxwell has his gun against the man’s head. The man drops the pistol he was holding and it clatters against the polished marble. Without thinking, I scramble to snatch it up.

  “Give me the gun, Sophia Thérèse,” Maxwell says, his voice tight. “Slowly.”

  He puts out his hand without ever taking his eyes off the man, who, all reptilian intensity, is staring at Maxwell. I place the gun in Maxwell’s palm without question.

  “Do you remember how you got here?”

  I nod and then, realizing that he isn’t looking at me, croak out a yes.

  “I want you to go back to your room immediately. Tell no one about this.”

  I hesitate, not wanting to leave him with someone who is clearly dangerous, with or without the gun. Sweat beads on Maxwell’s forehead as if he and the assailant are locked in an invisible duel.

  “Go!” he commands.