They ran to the parking area, where people were frantically searching for their cars, and drivers were nearly colliding with one another to get down the long drive to the main road.
Barin led Amelia to the Duke’s car and pulled open the back door. “Get in.”
Amelia locked eyes with Corporal Sawyer. “No. I don’t trust him.”
“I’m one of you. Get in,” he ordered. Wallis was right. There were spies all over Government House.
“He is.” Barin pushed Amelia into the plush back seat, and the bruises on her arms from Axel’s hands smarted. “Get on the floor.”
Barin tossed a blanket over her then slid onto the seat. Corporal Sawyer drove to the main road in the caravan of white-capped butlers and fancy cars ferrying the terrified guests away from Shangri-La. The car bumped along for what seemed like ages before it stopped.
Barin lifted the blanket off Amelia. “You can get up now.”
“Where are we?”
“The edge of Lady Williams-Taylor’s property.” Amelia peeked out the window to see Eugenie waiting on the dark and deserted road with Lady Williams-Taylor’s car. “She’ll take you from here. We have to get back. We don’t want anyone to suspect anything.”
Amelia hugged her tight. “Be careful. Mr. Wenner-Gren is dangerous.”
“I can handle myself,” Barin assured her. “Goodbye, and thanks for the most interesting cocktail party I’ve ever served.”
“If you ever need anything . . .”
“I’ll have Eugenie let you know.”
Barin climbed back into the car with Corporal Sawyer and they drove off as Amelia hurried to Eugenie.
“You’ll be in Miami within the hour,” Lady Williams-Taylor said as they sat in the back of her Cadillac on the private runway at Oakes Field waiting for the plane to taxi to the hangar. She handed Amelia a fresh towel of ice from the bar compartment in her car for her swollen mouth. In her ripped dress and borrowed coat and with a broken lip, Amelia looked like a mess but she was safe.
“What about you? If they know about me then they must know about you.”
“Eugenie and I leave for Canada tomorrow and we’ll stay there until things calm down. There’s too much excitement here and I don’t want to be bombed to bits by the next German air raid, at least that’s the story we’ll give to everyone, including the newspapers.”
“Did they get the U-boat?”
“They did, thanks to you.” The plane pulled to a stop and the mechanic slid wedges under the tires. The pilot didn’t cut the engine. They’d leave the moment she was on board, but the stairs lowered and a tall figure stepped out. “Now off you go. There’s someone waiting for you.”
Amelia threw open the car door and rushed across the tarmac to Robert. He sprinted to close the distance, scooping her up in his arms and twirling her around in excited relief. He set her feet on the ground, ready to kiss her, but her nasty lip stopped him.
“I’ll make them pay for what they did to you.”
“We both will.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Miami, Biltmore Hotel, March 1944
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Robert asked.
Amelia checked the tea in the teapot and adjusted the cups and saucers to make sure everything on the table was perfect. Working at the FBI in Washington, D.C., might not be as glamorous as planning dinners for European aristocrats, but even in the midst of war work she hadn’t forgotten how to lay a proper table, write a perfect thank-you note, or dress with distinction. She also needed the armor of her Chanel-inspired blue suit to help her face Wallis.
“I’m quite sure.”
“Good, because they’re here.”
The door opened and the suited FBI gentlemen showed Wallis and the Duke into the suite. After a couple of years of good behavior, the Colonial Office had finally granted the Windsors permission to travel to Miami for Wallis to have dental work. If Amelia didn’t do this today, she might not get another chance.
Wallis stepped over the threshold and glared at Amelia. “I have no desire to speak to that woman.” Wallis clutched her white leather purse that matched her white suit and tried to leave but the FBI agents stepped together in front of the door to block her way.
“How dare you,” the Duke thundered at being treated like a commoner.
“If Your Royal Highnesses would be so kind as to join me, we have some very important matters to discuss.” Amelia motioned for them to sit.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Wallis spat.
“They are issues of national importance concerning Your Royal Highnesses,” Robert said, and the Duke perked up at the prospect of being let in on something as important as state secrets. “You’ll want to hear what Mrs. Montague has to say.”
The Duke looked over the table and at Amelia standing behind it like the perfect hostess.
“I hate to let a good fruit tart go to waste.” The Duke escorted a stiff Wallis to the chair Robert held out for her.
She exchanged a wary look with the Duke as she sat down across from him.
“Are you enjoying Miami, Your Royal Highness?” Amelia sat and poured the tea, preparing the Duke’s exactly as he liked it before she handed it to him along with his fruit tart.
Wallis waved hers away, sitting sour-faced as if she’d noticed a bad smell. “It’s quite nice being in real society, even if the present company is lacking.”
