She cradled the book in her arms and left the library, careful to ensure no one saw her. Anya had come this far without being caught, and it would not help for someone to discover her nightly visits to the library now. Once she was in her room, she hid the book and crawled into bed. She had no desire to read any longer, and had too much to ponder over to focus. Instead, she tossed and turned all night, sleep impossible because of that chaste kiss.
* * *
Anya dressed the next morning,not as bright-eyed and alert as she would have liked. She would not miss what she had planned with Mr. Jones this day though. Whatever he had to show her…she desperately wanted to see. So, she’d work through her exhaustion. Perhaps later she could nap or even retire early. As long as she was inside the embassy, no one paid that close attention to her. She was a good girl, after all. Anya rolled her eyes. No one truly knew her if they believed that. Not that any of them would considering they had no idea who she really was or that Ana was no longer accounted for.
She left her room and headed to the foyer. When she had awakened, she had found a note on her bedside table. She didn’t want to discover how Arthur Jones had managed to sneak it into her bedroom without her realizing it. She must have slept at least a little for that to happen. He had left instructions on what time and where to meet him. By sheer luck, she’d managed to wake up in time to follow what he’d wrote. Otherwise, he’d have been left to do his little tour on his own.
Mr. Jones was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. When he noticed her, he stood up straight and his lips tilted upward and happiness exuded from him. His smile was devastating. He’d always looked so stern before. This was the first time she’d ever beheld him in any other fashion, and a smile on Arthur Jones was something she hoped to see more often in the future.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“As much as I will ever be,” she said. Her voice was still hoarse, and she hadn’t had time to eat breakfast. All she’d had was a bit of water after she’d brushed her teeth.
“Come along then,” he said, and they exited the embassy. “We will drive for a bit, and then the rest of the day we will be walking.”
“This tour will take all day?” She hadn’t counted on that. “What are you going to show me?”
“That is the plan,” he told her. “It will be fun. I promise.”
They headed to the car, and he held the door open for her. She slid inside and waited for him to join her. He sat in the driver’s seat and started the engine, then shifted the gearshift and headed to the gate of the embassy, and when they opened, he drove away from the embassy and toward a part of Berlin that Anya had never visited. Anya hoped she wouldn’t come to regret this decision. He drove along the river until he reached a bridge to take him to an island. Once he reached a point he could no longer drive, he parked the car.
“Here we are,” he said. “One of the best parts of the city. This is Museum Island.”
They started down the first path. Mr. Jones shoved his hands into his pockets. Did he do that so he could resist temptation? She wanted to move closer to him, but held back. If they were seen in public acting in anything resembling an intimate fashion, it would come back to haunt her, and perhaps him as well.
When they reached the first building in their path, he pointed to it. “That is the Neues.” He was quiet a moment and then continued, “It houses the Egyptian exhibits and the prehistoric as well. There are some fascinating early historical collections, and one of the artifacts is a bust of the Egyptian queen Nefertiti.”
“But we are not going in there to see it?” She would very much like to browse the Egyptian artifacts. Mummies had always fascinated her. It was perhaps a little perverse, but she would like to study them if at all possible. Maybe sometime later, if she returned to her time.
“If we have time... There is a museum I’d much rather take you inside of, and I believe will interest you more than the earliest historical time periods.”
“Really?” She lifted a brow. “What does it house?”
“Some wonderful works of art,” he began. His tone held a mischievous tone. “Come. I’ll show you.”
They went inside the museum. He remained silent as they walked through some of the galleries. When they reached one section, he stopped and pointed to a painting. “This isTelemachus’ Returnby Eberhard von Wächter.”
The painting depicted a group of ladies as they watched over a soldier, Greek if she had to make a guess, that was hugging another woman, possibly his wife. They appeared to care a great deal about each other.
“You like this painting?” She turned to him. “What is it that draws you to it?”
There was something almost ethereal about it. She couldn’t help wondering about their story. Where had he been and how long had he been gone? Was their love eternal? Did they have regrets? It was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time. Anya had never loved anyone that much.
“I like to think, one day, I’ll have something like this.” He motioned toward the painting. “Someone to love, a home, a family. This type of emotion, the sense of purpose, it isn’t so easy to find. Once my duty is finished here in Germany, I’m going to return home. I hate this country and its newfound ideals. It is hard to stomach.” He met her gaze. “But there is beauty here too. This art is proof of that. Nothing is all bad or all good, but pure evil is not difficult to see.”
What was he trying to say to her? “Have you seen so much evil then?”
“More than I would like,” he admitted. “I wanted you to see some of the good in Berlin. One day it might be difficult to find. For now, though, there is this.” He pointed to the painting. “Any time you need to get away and feel as if there is something in this world worth observing. Let me know, and I’ll take you.”
What he didn’t say in that statement was:I’ll do anything for you, to protect you. Say the word, and I will see you through any storm.It was breathtaking, and she lost all ability to speak. The rest of the day, through everything they viewed, she didn’t say much. He had given her a lot to think about, and perhaps, later, she’d tell him her truth. That she wasn’t Ana, but Anya from nearly two decades in the future. Hopefully, when she did tell him the truth, he wouldn’t think her insane and tell everyone she should be put in a mental asylum. She swallowed a lump that formed in her throat. She had to find the right opportunity to tell him and take a leap of faith.
