The wedding had occasioned a happy reunion between her father and Zelda’s father who, separated by the Atlantic, rarely saw each other. ‘Zelda really is my sister now,’ she whispered to him. ‘Which is lovely, because it is how we’ve always thought of each other.’

He patted her hand, knowing only too well how close she and Zelda were, and she wondered if he knew just how deeply she missed him—and not only him, but Yorkshire too. She had taken advantage of her honeymoon by spending it at home, and had fully expected Zelda to do a similar thing and to honeymoon in America, at Niagara or somewhere else close to New York.

‘Landsakes, Vicky! And risk socializing with someone who would tell Josef the sordid details of Harry’s death?’ Zelda had said when she had voiced surprise that Vienna was to be the honeymoon destination. ‘Or, nearly as bad, have him discover that my paternal grandmother was an Iroquois Indian? No, thank you. My days of being gossiped about on those counts are in the past. As is America. From now on I’m a Berliner.’

Dearly as she loved Berthold, Vicky knew she would never be able to think of herself as a Berliner. In her ten months of living in the museum-like mansion on Unter den Linden, her heart hadn’t warmed to Berlin. She was a country girl, a Yorkshire girl, and the grandiose architecture of Berlin left her cold. She ached for the lush sweeping valley that was Wensleydale; for small villages with weekly markets; for woods and waterfalls; for the River Ure that tumbled through the grounds of her home; for the jigsaw pattern of drystone walls; for sheep dotted everywhere; and for the exhilarating sight, always, in the distance, of high bare moorland.

‘Are you uncomfortable, sweetheart?’ Berthold asked, covering her hand with his.

She nodded, grateful for his gentleness and sweetness.

‘You’ll be able to rest soon. It isn’t customary in Germany for the bride and groom to remain long at the reception and as soon as they leave for their honeymoon, you will be able to excuse yourself.’

‘Won’t my doing so be seen as bad manners?’

Behind his pebble-thick lenses his eyes were amused. ‘Not considering your condition and the length of this wedding service.’

As the first notes of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March rang triumphantly out and the happy couple began to make their way down the aisle as man and wife, Berthold leaned towards her again, saying in her ear, ‘I much preferred our wedding in Yorkshire, with the snow falling and only family and real friends wishing us well.’

The Kaiser began to make his way down the aisle and Vicky rose to her feet with the rest of the congregation. Once the baby was born she and Berthold would be able to make plans for a return trip to Yorkshire. They might even be able to spend their wedding anniversary there. Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so nauseous. The future was full of things to look forward to. Her baby would soon be in her arms, and once Zelda returned from honeymoon she would have her companionship constantly, for Zelda and Josef would be living for most of the year in the mansion on Unter den Linden.