Aleida, however, had to restrain herself from taking his hand, his arm, from leaning against him.
After she returned the card to the filing cabinet, she and Miss Winthrop sat down at the desk with a stack of letters from billeting officers.
Aleida slit open the first envelope and opened it. “From Bedford. Three children have returned to London.”
Miss Winthrop went to the filing cabinet. “Bedfordshire ... Bedford ... child’s name?”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Martens.” Mr. Armbruster stood in front of her desk in a black suit that rounded over his portly form.
Aleida stood and greeted the head of their division. “Shall I fetch Miss Granville?”
“You’re the young lady I came to see.” Dark eyes twinkled from deep in his full face. “How is your talk coming along?”
“Talk?”
“Yes. We’re all very interested in hearing more about the status of the refugee children.”
Aleida tilted her head as if doing so might sift missing knowledge into place. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“You did receive my invitation, did you not?”
“Invitation? No, sir.”
Mr. Armbruster frowned over Aleida’s shoulder. “Miss Granville?”
“I’ll fetch her, sir.” Miss Winthrop scurried off to Miss Granville’s office.
Mr. Armbruster returned his gaze to Aleida. “I sit on the board for the Refugee Aid Society. We’re holding a charity banquet, and I want you to talk about the refugee children. I’m sure—ah, Miss Granville. It appears you forgot to pass on the banquet invitation to Mrs. Martens.”
Color rose in Miss Granville’s cheeks. “As the head of this department, I shall speak about the matter. I am more informed about the situation than Mrs. Martens. And—I do apologize, Mrs. Martens—but I don’t believe a foreigner would be accepted by this stratum of society. She does have an accent.”
Aleida tensed. How did Miss Granville manage to look prim and contrite while saying such things?
Mr. Armbruster chuckled. “Her accent is charming. And I specifically invited her to speak because her status as a refugee will lend poignancy and authenticity to her talk.”
Miss Granville folded in her lips. “It isn’t proper.”
“Proper?” Mr. Armbruster’s voice dropped a forbidding octave. “Who better to speak about the refugee children than the very woman who wrote that excellent and thorough report?”
“Report?” Aleida could think of only one report that fit—but how had Mr. Armbruster received it? Hadn’t Miss Granville dumped it in the scrap bin?
No joviality remained in Mr. Armbruster’s expression. “The invitation, Miss Granville.”
“Very well.” She turned on her heel and marched back to her office.
“A ten-minute talk,” Mr. Armbruster said to Aleida. “Please summarize the information about the refugee children from your report. Would you like to borrow it so you can prepare?”
“No. I—I made a carbon copy.” Her words came out breathy. She couldn’t believe Miss Granville had passed on the report she despised.
After Miss Granville returned and handed Aleida a creamy envelope, Mr. Armbruster departed.
Aleida followed Miss Granville back to her office. “I didn’t realize you gave my report to Mr. Armbruster.”
At the office door, Miss Granville turned to her with a contorted smile. “Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
Aleida could think of many reasons. The same reasons Miss Granville didn’t want Aleida speaking at the banquet.
“Do be careful to do this department proud.” Miss Granville’s mouth formed a compassionate little moue. “I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of Mr. Armbruster, but you’re so quiet. I was afraid you’d faint in front of an audience, especially an audience of this caliber—some of the finest families in London. I wanted to protect you.”
