The same night, 1948
After leaving Hannah at her door with another kiss, Philip meandered slowly back to Sous les Chênes. He was contemplating how to introduce his family to his soon-to-be fiancée. He admired his parents very much for how they had rebuilt their life together alongside their children after years of war and imprisonment. His parents' marriage was more solid than it had ever been, certainly better than when he was a lad. Though they had had separate experiences, all three of them had survived the dehumanizing terror of being prisoners of a military enemy. They understood each other in a way no one perhaps no one else would; each was grateful for their home, nourishment, and a warm bed. Their close family ties were everything to them. It was because of that closeness that Philip was surprised to overhear an echo of the past as he crept up the stairs to his room at Sous les Chênes.
His father's adamant voice was insisting on something and his mother was sobbing. Philip decided to eavesdrop at the open door to the drawing room; he may have been a lousy spy, but Felicity and James were none the wiser.
"Eugénie must go to school in England. You know that she can't stay here." James said delicately, though his gentle-but-firm tone was of no comfort to his sobbing wife.
Felicity responded through her tears, but Philip was unable to make out what she'd said.
James responded. "Please, Felicity. It's not to shun her; it's to protect her! God forgive me for saying it, but the people of St. Gregory are unkind."
Felicity snorted and then composed herself. "You're right about that, James. Of course, you're right about everything," she admitted. From the doorway, he saw his mother look up pleadingly at his father.
She brushed away her tears. "James, please consider this: we could all start again in England. Phil could keep Sous les Chênes; he could be bailiff one day! I've… I've ruined that chance for you. And I can't remain on this island with all the stares and the gossip. Phil is a grown man, and there is no life for me here if Eugénie goes. I want to go to England. But I will only go with you by my side."
James Dorr was dumbstruck by his wife's audacity. He was at a loss for words.
"You could surely leverage one of your connections in Whitehall…" she continued.
"No. Not Whitehall. Not after how they demilitarized and abandoned St. Gregory. I… I will need to think this over."
It was true that James grew more frustrated by the day with his role in the senate. How much longer could the elderly Bailiff LaPalotte go on with James doing his work for him? And yet, James knew that once a new Bailiff came to power, there would be no place for him. The islanders- his people- eyed him and his daughter with suspicion. Yes, perhaps Felicity is right. Best to pass the baton to Phil… James thought.
"I… I have some ideas, James." Felicity said. Philip listened incredulously as his mother shared her pipe dream of opening a business.
"Where would we get the capital, Felicity? The Dorrs are well-off, but not for that kind of investment."
Felicity took a gulp of brandy and found the courage to make a daring suggestion. "James, I believe that there is a bank account in Switzerland..."
"Never!" James roared. "I would sooner sell Sous les Chênes than take that man's blood money! You promised me we would never speak of HIM again."
Philip could only assume that HIM referred to one person- Baron von Rheingarten.
"Of course, James, you're right. That is one of reasons I have to leave St. Gregory; we must bury the past once and for all. But surely you can't think about selling Sous les Chênes. I would do anything for Eugénie's future, but we mustn't neglect Phil's inheritance either."
"You're quite right. We should let Phil know what we are thinking about, even if our plans are not made yet."
Philip, for his part, decided to take that as a cue to silently slink off to bed. He did not want to confront them tonight. He and Hannah would have much to discuss about their future first. She had trusted him with her secrets; it was time for him to share a few as well.
By the next week, Philip and his parents had all done some thinking, though everyone was still keeping their cards close to their chest. At last gathered at home for Sunday dinner, Philip resolved to tell them about Hannah. He found that he couldn't wait for the right moment to work it into the conversation, so he just blurted out, "mum, dad, I've met someone- a young woman- she's a friend of Angélique Mahy's, actually. And what I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with her and I'd rather like to ask her to marry me."
The Dorrs may have been known for their reserved nature, but his father knocked over his own chair as he leapt up to congratulate his son. Felicity gasped and brought her hands to her heart, "oh, Phil!"
"Tell us, son, what's her name? When do we get to meet her?" James asked.
"Soon, I hope. Hannah is, well, she's…" Philip knew that his parents were not bigoted, yet he always found it hard to tell his parents personal things.
His father tried to rescue him. "Say no more, Phil. I understand. I had this conversation with my own father once. Your girlfriend is pregnant."
"James!" Felicity was mortified at what her husband was admitting to their first born. "Oh Phil, I'm so ashamed."
Phil turned scarlet. "What? Pregnant, no! We've never—never mind that. She's not pregnant, she is Jewish."
"Oh, thank God for that. Babies are a hard way to start a marriage."
"James, you can't tell our son that!" Felicity cried.
Philip was relieved that he was no longer the most uncomfortable person at the table and pressed on with what he had prepared to say. "Hannah is originally German; her family had left Berlin for England in 1933. She was employed as a nanny, and the family she worked for had been vacationing on St. Gregory when the war broke out. Her employers went back to England, but being a German national, she could not return with them. She tried to escape to England with me on the same night I was caught in Jonas' boat. She swam away and spent most of the war in hiding."
Felicity sighed, "the poor dear."
"it doesn't bother you that she is Jewish?"
"Son," James responded, "if this war has taught us anything, it is that we must embrace our common humanity."
"To think that the two of you should have died in the death trap that was the Jonas' boat, and yet you both lived- we will take that as a sign that you are meant to be together." Felicity added. "Does Hannah have family?"
"She lost touch with her family because of the war."
"We will be her family now," Felicity said as she squeezed her son's hand. "I always felt like an outsider in this family, so I pledge to make sure that Hannah feels welcome. Yes, we'll have the perfect wedding for you. One last grand event at Sous les Chênes."
"What do you mean, last?"
James and Felicity looked at each other. James spoke, "Son, there is something we have been meaning to tell you. I feel it's best that Eugénie be schooled in England, just as you were. But your mother has made it clear to me that it was a mistake on my part to send you away from your parents when you were so young. So we've decided that we're going to make a fresh start of it, all three of us, in London. Your mother and I would love for you to take over the estate at Sous les Chênes. Consider it a wedding gift. Your Hannah will be thrilled."
Now it was Phil's turn to be at a loss for words. At last he managed, "Such a generous offer, thank you, dad and mum. I will have to talk to Hannah."
Felicity sensed Philip's hesitation. "What is it, Phil?"
"Well, Hannah and I would rather like to go to England ourselves. She lost touch with her family there, but she'd like to have the opportunity to find them. I'd like to re-connect with some of the chaps from Sandhurst, maybe go into business."
The three of them looked at each other and then to little Eugénie, serenely sitting at the table with them. "How do you feel about flowers, Phil?" Felicity asked.
Several months later on the morning of Philip and Hannah's wedding, Felicity had one last piece of business to attend to on the isle of St. Gregory. The men were still asleep as James had tried to send Philip off with some sort of a stag do the night before. Felicity tried to smuggle little Eugénie out the door without arousing suspicion, however, Delphine the maid caught Felicity at the door. Felicity lied that she needed to run some errands. "In your nice frock for the wedding, ma'am?" Delphine had asked sceptically.
Felicity huffed without answering the maid. "We'll be back before the festivities. I promise."
"Where are we going, mummy?" Little Eugénie asked as her mother placed her in the passenger side of the car.
"Into town, my little love." Felicity drove them to Mr. Isaak's photography shop, still run by June Mahy. Felicity explained to June that she wanted a portrait made of her and her daughter; she furthermore instructed June to keep it a secret.
"That will be a lovely surprise for the senator," June said, naively.
"Quite. Please, June, remember not to say anything when you see us later this afternoon at the wedding."
"Mum's the word, Mrs. Dorr."
The following week, Felicity returned to Isaak's photography shop to collect the portrait and then went onto the post office. She addressed an envelope to the trustee of a secret Swiss bank account and prayed that the photograph and accompanying letter would reach their intended party. She didn't even know if the Baron had survived the war, let alone the Nuremberg trials afterward.
She had longed to pour her heart out in the letter, to tell Heinrich how beautiful their daughter was, to tell him how proud she was of Philip on his wedding day. She knew that Heinrich would be pleased for Philip and Hannah as well. But- not knowing whose eyes would read it- she kept the letter short and to the point. She simply gave her erstwhile lover a forwarding address; the Dorrs were moving on.