If you’re just joining this story, you may want to start from the beginning.
This story follows the first in Jenn’s Rediscovered series, Last Assault on Oak Island.
During the meal, Lauren found herself lodged between Elden and Madame Poussin. She also noted, with some disenchantment, that she was the youngest guest present. Elden was one rung up on the age ladder by a few years. She glanced at the gold flatware, carefully choosing the correct spoon from the cornflower blue damask tablecloth.
At this proximity, she found Madame Poussin wasn't as old as she had previously imagined. Premature wrinkles, dry and taut skin, and the pallid countenance made the woman appear aged.
The smell didn't help, either, Lauren decided. It reminded her of the room-deodorized air of a retirement home. She steeled herself against the suffocating pungency and tried to regulate her breathing to when Madame Poussin was relatively still.
"Don't worry," Elden told her lowly, his blond head still posed over his dish. "The smell washes off."
She smiled, glad Madame Poussin was too busy noisily sipping her soup to hear the remark. "I didn't know I was thinking that loud."
"You weren't. I had the privilege yesterday." His voice dropped another notch. "I hope you can move quickly, Ms. Gates. Ms. Possum tends to choke on the royale."
She stifled a smile, not daring to look at the woman beside her. "Ms. Possum?"
"Don't tell Marlon I said that."
"I don't think I could find a way to work it into a conversation."
He smiled. "Good. And Lady Chatty, as you'll learn. Relax. The Possum only speaks French and handful of English niceties and a variation of Flemish."
"You know the guests well enough."
"A few." He cleared his throat, gray eyes shifting to where Carlos was seated down the table between Reuben and Madame Chatillier. "What did Dr. Sheldon think of the plate?"
Lauren sipped her water, wondering if he would bring up the subject and glad he had. "He's seen better artists," she said. "The design holds promise, but he was really impressed with the use of materials."
He waited until the attendant had taken their soup and the next course was served before commenting. "I didn't know if you knew. Just for reference, Monsieur Claiborne and the Lady Eldicott are fluent in English, and, of course, Madame Chatty, whom I presume can complain in any language. Mr. Morrow also, as well as a gin-ridden German. He spends most of his time in Germany and Poland, avoiding Mrs. Morrow." He chuckled, shrugging. "He was into the bottle the night we met. And Monsieur Tolchov."
"We met earlier. At the station." She looked to the man seated beside Carlos.
"My mistake," Elden said. "I'd watch him, were I you. I get the impression he understands most of what he hears, whether or not it's meant for him."
"When did he get here?"
"Before I did. That I know. I think he's waiting on more than the swords alone."
Her eyes turned back to her plate when Reuben noticed her attention. She cleared her throat and said to Elden, "Not the porcelain?"
He shook his head. "No. Not the porcelain, either."
Watch your inbox for more chapters as Dr. Sheldon and Lauren follow rumors surrounding the lost Amber Chamber.
Subscribe below to get alerts for future chapters in the search of one of history’s most fascinating lost World War II treasures.
#treasure #amber #AmberRoom #AmberChamber #mystery #WorldWarTwo #WorldWarII #LostArtwork #history
 | A guest post by
|