Chapter 1: Ride To Oxford

As she walked on, heading away from the camp, but with no idea where exactly she was, or where the road might lead, except that it was the road the staff car took to Oxford when she and the Count had gone to Oxford, she heard a car travelling fast behind her. When it had passed her it suddenly screeched to a halt and backed towards her.

What now? she wondered, convinced it could not be anything good.

The door opened and in the car she saw a young officer who, she was fairly sure, was the one who had collected her when she was first taken to Camp Vorzügliches Vergnügen.

“Have you come to arrest me again?” she asked, adding disconsolately, “I might have known it was all a trick.”

The young officer driving replied, “No, I am not arresting you, nor collecting you as I did last time. All I am doing is offering you a lift, if you know where you want to go?”

“Very convenient that you happened to be passing,” was the sarcastic reply.

“Listen for a moment,” he said as she made to walk on, “I am Hauptsturmführer Joachim Bernhardt von Döring-Esser, the Pfalzgraf’s nephew; I was named for him. I came to check that you were released as ordered by the Standartenführer. You are entirely free to go wherever you like. Did you get the money and your papers?”

“Yes, thank you. Why does it interest you?”

“It interests me because you interest me. When I collected you I could see immediately why my uncle had spent five years scheming and conniving to get a posting where he could get you into his bed. I suppose I take after him, because I nearly kidnapped you for myself then. Now I am offering to help you in the hope that we can see more of each other. Do you have a destination in mind?”

Jane thought for a moment and then asked, “Did he really spend five years working to get me into his bed?”

“Oh yes. He could have had much better postings by using the title of Pfalzgraf than the ones he accepted, but he had laid his plans at the start and carried them through meticulously, as any good soldier should,” was the surprising reply, “Now get in the car and I’ll take you wherever you are going.”

“What if I say I want to go to the Palatinate of Döring-Esser?”

“Then I shall take you to Oxford railway station and warn you that you will not be allowed to go to Germany on the travel permit you were given. Do you really feel so much for him?”

“I am carrying his child,” she replied simply.

“And it seems to suit you well. You are positively glowing with good health. Get in anyway, and allow me to take you to Oxford. It’s nearly eleven kilometres, sorry, seven miles from here and you can’t walk that far, especially carrying that much luggage.”

Jane decided that this was sensible; after all she had nowhere to go, but in Oxford she could perhaps find a room for a reasonable rent while she sorted her life out. Climbing into the car she remarked, bitterly, “At least you didn’t wave a gun at me this time.”