How could she tell him? If he knew about the child growing inside her, it would only make him frantic with worry. Her darling Kit, her second self, who loved her so deeply. So Daisy swallowed back her grief and wrapped her legs around him and urged him on. She knew how to drive him out of his mind; she knew how to make him forget whatever he was thinking and lose himself in her, in Daisy. They finished in a reckless burst and lay panting together, afraid they had made too much noise, afraid they had gone too fast, afraid they hadn’t gone fast enough. Kit was worried because she had left her diaphragm at the apartment. Daisy just snuggled deeper in the curve of his body and said not to worry so much.
“But if you have a child—”
“Don’t think about it, all right?”
“I can’t help thinking about it.” He took her hand and trapped it against his chest. “I can’t help thinking about what you said, the other day.”
“Oh, I say a lot of things. Don’t pay any attention to them.”
They lay silent. Daisy closed her eyes and felt the beat of her heart, the beat of his heart. The third heart beating in the bed with them, too tiny to be felt, known only to Daisy and God and Grandmère. Kit lifted his other hand and wriggled it. Daisy felt a smooth metal shape pass over her knuckle. She lifted her head.
“What’s this?”
“My ring. Now it’s yours. Our engagement ring.”
“Kit, don’t be foolish. It’s your family ring.”
“Exactly. If you can’t find me, you can go to my family. They’ll recognize it, they’ll help you with . . . well, with whatever you need. And after the war—”
“Kit, please. How can we speak of this? A thousand things could happen. It’s bad luck to—”
“Listen to me. A thousand things could happen, yes, but they won’t change this. This bond between us, how much I love you, that won’t change. After the war, as long as I’m alive, I’ll come for you. I’ll find you, wherever you are—”
“The Ritz,” she said. “We’ll meet at the Ritz. If we’re both still alive.”
“What if there is no Ritz?”
“There will always be a Ritz,” she said stoutly.
“Well, then. We shall meet at the Ritz, you and I, and never part again. We’ll marry and grow old together, surrounded by a dozen children and a pair of cantankerous swans. And this ring, Daisy, is my promise to you. That I’ll love you and go on loving you, whatever happens in the months to come. The years, if it comes to that. There’s no other woman in the world for me. There never could be, after you.”
Daisy just buried her face in his shoulder. She wished she could weep again, but her eyes just ached and ached and refused to shed any more tears. She thought, He’s here now. In this instant, we are together in this bed, and that’s all that matters, that’s enough for anyone.
Kit laid his hand along the curve of her head; with his other hand, he traced the lines and dents of the ring on her finger. He smelled of pipe tobacco, of brandy, of lovemaking, of Kit. He whispered something into her hair.
“What’s that?” she whispered. “I can’t hear you.”
So he said it louder, just enough that she could hear him before the cold air swallowed the words.
“Swans, you know, they mate for life.”
Some hours later, a hand grasped Daisy’s shoulder and shook her awake.
“It’s time,” said Grandmère.
They dressed quickly, without sound. Max was downstairs, helping the children button their coats. Daisy’s fingers were so cold, she couldn’t fasten her blouse, so Grandmère did it for her while Kit splashed water on his face from the basin in the corner.
“Our contact is waiting at the safe house on rue Rossini, near the Opéra,” said Grandmère. “Monsieur Legrand, you will proceed ahead as we agreed, to ensure the security of the location. Daisy, you will follow in half an hour. Von Sternburg has offered to drive me and the children to the rendezvous at—”
From the corner, Kit swore.
“Enough,” said Grandmère. “I assure you, he would rather die than see any harm come to them.”
“I don’t doubt it. He’s got some strange fascination with Daisy.”
“Don’t trouble yourself about it, young man. Only thank God that he does. Now put on your jacket and get out of here, do you hear me? There isn’t a moment to lose. Everyone’s on edge.”
Kit grabbed his jacket from the floor and put it on. Before going down the stairs, he turned to Daisy, took her by the arms, and kissed her deeply, right there in front of Grandmère.
“Remember what I said,” he told her, staring straight into her eyes.
“I’ll remember.”
Down he went, swinging through the hatchway instead of bothering with the stairs, as if the floor had swallowed him up. The last hair of him disappeared from view, and Daisy thought she couldn’t breathe. She sat on the bed. A wave of nausea overtook her.
“What’s the matter?” said Grandmère. “Is it the sickness?”
“A little. It passes quickly.”
“Not for long. It’s good we’re getting you out of Paris. Your mother had a terrible time with you.”
“The invincible demoiselle? Troubled by morning sickness?”
“My God, it was awful.”
They listened to the gruff voices downstairs, Kit saying goodbye to the children, the door moving softly. Daisy pressed the ring into the flesh of her finger. It was too big, of course. She would have to wear it around her neck or something. The walls shuddered a little, as Kit slipped out through the front door and closed it behind him and was gone.
There wasn’t much to pack. Grandmère had managed to bring out a few clothes from the apartment, before the police came; enough to provide them with a change or two, but not to arouse immediate suspicion. Everything fit inside a single carpetbag. Madeleine and Olivier sat sleepily on the chairs. Max checked his watch.
“How much longer?” asked Daisy. The talisman sat inside the inner pocket of her jacket, heavy and enormous in its silk cloth. It bumped against her ribs whenever she moved. She hated it; she wanted it gone. She wanted to be outside Paris, fleeing Paris with Kit, but that was impossible. She must go to Switzerland first. She would go to Switzerland with the children and Grandmère, she would have the baby there, Kit’s baby, safe and sound, and then . . . and then . . . what?
She still felt unwell. She leaned against the table and stared at the floor and tried to breathe. Max frowned at her.
“Everything is well?” he asked, and before Daisy could say anything, Grandmère replied in her usual curt way.
“She’s going to have a baby, that’s all.”
The children were so sleepy, they didn’t hear. But Max did.
“She’s what?”
“Shh! The children,” said Daisy.
Max looked at Grandmère, and Grandmère made some motion with her hand to her stomach. Max said something in German, under his breath, and tore a hand through his hair.
“This is madness,” he said. “She’s in grave danger already, and now this.”