Scent of Triumph by Jan Moran Read Free Book Online Page A

see to it.”
    Danielle acknowledged Sarah with a kind glance.
    Libby went on. “Turn the handle to the left of the fireplace to ring her downstairs and she’ll be right up. Won’t you Sarah?”
    “Yes, madam.” Sarah dropped a curtsey.
    “And Sarah will bring a change of clothes, along with tea and sandwiches, straight away.”
    Danielle nearly gagged at the mention of food.
    Libby paused with her hand on the doorknob. “We’ll see you downstairs at seven-thirty for cocktails.”
    Miraculously, Sarah produced clothing and shoes for them, worn but serviceable. “Yer lucky,” she told them. “We have all sizes. Mrs. Leibowitz collects clothes for the London Women’s Society.”
    After a steaming bath, Danielle’s body was somewhat restored, but her mind still swirled.
How would they return home? Was Nicky safe? How ill was Sofia?
    She emerged from the bathroom in a cotton robe. Max was pouring tea in the sitting room. Instantly, she detected the aroma of bergamot—that would be Earl Grey tea, she knew, her mind instantly transported to her perfumer’s organ. The citrusy oil from the Italian bergamot fruit was frequently used to lift and freshen the opening accord in perfumes. And, of course, in Earl Grey tea. She sighed, aching for her art...her family, her home.
    Sarah had left a silver tea service on a tray laden with cold chicken and cucumber sandwiches. The crisp cucumber smelled fresh and green, but still, she couldn’t imagine eating.
When will this madness end?
    “Cup of tea, darling? Sandwich?”
    Danielle leaned against the sofa and shook her head.
    Max frowned at her. “You look pale, Danielle. Are you sure you’re well enough for dinner?”
    “Actually, no,” she snapped. “How can you even think of a dinner party at a time like this?”
    Max’s jaw tightened. “What do you want, Danielle, a silver tray in your room tonight? Don’t act spoiled, we have a responsibility to our hosts. Besides, I must speak with Nathan Newell-Grey.”
    She threw a glance at the tea service before Max, but she was too weary to voice her opinion on double standards. Bitterness welled in her throat. “Fine, I’ll get through the evening somehow.”
    “Good girl. I know you can do it.”
    Danielle winced at his choice of words. Sometimes he made her feel so inconsequential, as if she were a little girl.
Or maybe I’m just tired
, she thought, and left it at that.
    After a brief rest, Danielle woke. She sorted through the clothing Sarah had brought and selected a dark wool suit to try on. She zipped the skirt closed, pinned the waist fullness to fit, and folded under the jacket sleeves to shorten them. She brushed her hair and wound it into a simple chignon.
    But something was missing, and she realized with a pang of sadness that she felt bare without her perfume. It was the first time she could remember not applying perfume as she dressed.
That’s the least of our worries
, she thought. Shrugging the feeling off, she finished dressing, then turned to Max. “Ready when you are.”
    The Newell-Greys and Libby and Herb Leibowitz greeted them in the foyer. After exchanging pleasantries, Max turned to Jon. “Good to see you again.”
    “Likewise, old boy. You both look much better. Say, I’d better warn you, my sister Abigail is right behind us with a friend of hers, the singing star, Cameron Murphy. He’s an old friend of ours from Los Angeles, he’s working on a Red Cross charity project for her here in London.”
    At that, Abigail and Cameron entered.
    Abigail greeted Danielle and Max with warmth. She clasped Danielle’s hand. “Jon told me all about you this afternoon. I’m so sorry to hear of your dreadful predicament.” Abigail’s face softened with concern. “Your poor little boy. Is he your only child?”
    Danielle nodded.
    “I have a soft spot in my heart for children,” Abigail continued. “They should not have to suffer the woes of the world. If I ever had children—” A strange