Enemies of the Heart
Contents (41)
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
Enemies of the Heart
REBECCA DEAN
HARPER
For Carol Smith
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
Chapter One
Berlin, June 1909
‘You can’t possibly decide to marry a man you haven’t yet met.’ Vicky Hudson’s voice held an underlying trace of North Yorkshire vowels—and a wealth of affection and amusement.
Her American-born cousin, five years her senior, looked at her through an ornate dressing-table mirror as her maid put finishing touches to her elaborate chignon. ‘I can when he’s heir to a steel empire that makes the Pennsylvanian steel empires back home seem child’s play in comparison,’ she said drily, uncaring that a chambermaid was also present and that she was talking about the eldest son of the house in her hearing. ‘My father says Harald Remer has one of the finest financial brains he’s ever come across, which is why he was so insistent that Uncle Arthur pay him this visit.’
Vicky walked across to the nearest of the large windows that looked down over the tree-lined Unter den Linden. Zelda’s father was a New York banker and his assessment of Harald Remer’s financial abilities was, presumably, based on hard evidence.
It was early evening and carriages and smart motorcars thronged the already gas-lit boulevard. Because she was not husband-hunting—and wouldn’t be interested in a heel-clicking, stiffly formal German even if she were—Harald Remer’s eldest son’s eligibility was of little interest to her. For Zelda, widowed three years ago when she was twenty-three, the situation was different.
Zelda’s father was rich on a scale that far exceeded her own father’s comfortable lifestyle as a Yorkshire mill-owner. As a matter of course Zelda had married a man of enormous wealth and, now that she was a widow, had no intention of marrying anyone whose fortune didn’t exceed her own. Even within mega rich New York society this narrowed the field of possible husbands—and something that narrowed the field even further was the unfortunate manner of her husband’s death.
After an evening dining at Delmonico’s, Harry Gould had committed suicide by throwing himself into the East River from the central span of Brooklyn Bridge. As there was no obvious cause for his action—no financial catastrophe, no sordid scandal attached to his name—rumour had whispered that perhaps his exotically beautiful wife was the cause of the despair that had driven him to take his life. Though nothing was ever said to Zelda directly, she was aware enough of the gossip to have welcomed the opportunity of leaving New York for a trip to Venice, Florence and Rome as part of Vicky’s twenty-first-birthday celebrations.