Winston Churchill Makes Debut In Book Trailer for Hitler’s Agent:
Since so much of the subject matter of the Edward Ware Thrillers at War novels has to do with World War 1 and World War 2, we decided to give Winston Churchill a speaking part in the most recent book trailer. Cheops Books LLC has just posted the book trailer for Hitler’s Agent by Dora Benley, book five of the Edward Ware Thrillers at War Series, on the website at http://www.edwardwarethrillers.org. The battle between the great orator and MP, Winston Churchill, and Adolf Hitler, Fuhrer and Chancellor of the Third Reich, formed the chief political conflict of twentieth century history. So we let Churchill speak for himself and call Hitler what names he will such as a “monster of iniquity”. It all fits into the drama with Hitler and his chief spy, Helga von Wessel, committing all sorts of atrocities and making life very difficult for Colonel Sir Edward Ware and his wife, Dora, Lady Ware. Nor will Hitler and Helga von Wessel stop until the Wares hand over the Lawrence maps, key to world domination. We will see what Winston Churchill has to say about that.

Churchill with cigar

 

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Dora And Edward Should Book A Mediterranean Cruise in 2018:
One year from today on Friday, June 8, 2018 the Queen Victoria sets out on a 14-night Mediterranean cruise that should interest Dora and Edward Ware with all their connections all over Europe. What is better the cruise embarks in Southampton and returns them to Southampton at the end of the cruise so they can easily drive right back to Ware Hall in the south of England or they can drive into London and take up residence at the Savoy at their apartment. The following ports of call are on the itinerary of Mediterranean Highlights: Oporto, Barcelona, Port Mahon, Ajaccio, Citavecchia, Cagliari, and Gibraltar.
Ajaccio should interest them. That is the place on the island of Corsica where Napoleon was born. There is a statue of the Emperor there as well as a house that was in the Bonaparte family until the 1920s. Edward’s great-grandfather served under Wellington at the Battle of Waterloo in the upcoming Cheops Books LLC historical thriller, Inn at the Crossroads.
Citavecchia is the port of Rome. Edward has a big chase scene through all sorts of Italian formal gardens in the historical thriller, Map Plot. He could take a shore excursion to Hadrian’s Villa or the Villa de Este with all its waterfalls.
And finally Gibraltar would always be of interest. In the historical thriller soon to be published by Cheops Books LLC, Hitler’s Agent, Dora and Edward pay a visit to the island of Gibraltar to refuel their yacht. They need to get back to Paris to meet with Winston Churchill at the Ritz Hotel. Dora enlists some local apes to help escape from Hitler and his agents.

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Two Mediterranean Cruises That Dora And Edward Would Like:
Dora and Edward would want to visit Rome and Venice for certain and Gibraltar thrown in would not be a bad addition. So we would recommend that they sign up for the Cunard Queen Elizabeth 2 50th anniversary cruise Q729 offered by Cunard Lines this autumn starting on September 8. Not only does the Mediterranean cruise stop in Venice which is a must see for the couple who spent so many fretful hours there fighting Hitler, it also stops in Gibraltar as a last stop before reaching Southampton and England once again. Edward and Dora would enjoy taking a motor launch across the Venetian lagoon. They might even revisit the beach at the Lido where they spent some nervous hours at the famous hotel trying to figure out how to escape the island. Dora eventually hired a private yacht to take her, her husband, and her daughter to Paris to meet Winston Churchill at the Ritz Hotel.
Another possible Mediterranean cruise for the well-heeled, well-traveled couple might be a second Cunard offering for late this summer. This cruise is also aboard the Queen Elizabeth, the newest offering of the Cunard Line which ought to be overly familiar to Dora and bring back memories of her time on the Lusitania in 1915. This cruise is aptly named Mediterranean Highlights. This cruise stops in Citavecchia, the new port for Rome now that Ostia has silted up. They can take a tour and explore the haunts of Edward’s long-ago ancestors in the time of the late Republic and early Empire. They might even visit the Forum on a bus tour or on a romantic horse and buggy ride or perhaps via the Roma Train from the cruise port. They could gawk at the House of Augustus on Palatine Hill where Edward’s ancestor once dined with the first Emperor of Rome while discussing the rebellious Germans who were to do in Augustus’s legions in 9AD.
At another port of call in Naples they can visit the Vesuvius volcano that lends its name to one of the historical thrillers in the Edward Ware Thrillers at War Series, the Vesuvius Plot. They can go ashore and visit Herculaneum and/or Pompeii, very nearby Pliny the Elder’s villa. Why Pliny the Elder? Find out how the great Roman writer is tied into the series by reading the upcoming Old Faithful Plot and the Vesuvius Plot soon.

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Hitler’s Agent To Go To The ALA: See It At The IBPA Exhibit:
From June 23 to June 26 Hitler’s Agent will be traveling to Chicago for the ALA American Library Association Convention. The paperback version will be on display at the IBPA cooperative booth. Cheops Books, LLC will also be giving away postcards with the cover of the book displayed on the front. If you are in Chicago at the time you are invited to stop by the booth.
Hitler’s Agent will be published on October 15 on Amazon Kindle. The paperback version of the book will be for sale for $12.95 on the Cheops Books LLC website http://www.edwardwarethrillers.org.
The villainess, Helga von Wessel, Hitler’s chief spy, struts boldly from page to page of this thriller with Europe at her back and all sorts of ambitious notions in her head during the lead up to WW2. As far as she is concerned it isn’t Hitler’s Reich. It is Helga’s Reich. She will wrap the hero, Colonel Sir Edward Ware, Churchill’s spy, around her little finger to prove it. Nor does it matter what Edward’s American wife, Dora, says. Hitler’s Agent is the fifth volume of the Edward Ware Thrillers at War Series.

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Hope you enjoyed the selection of blog posts about the upcoming historical thriller title Wall Street Swastika about the Wall Street Crash of 1929 and its effect on Hitler and his Nazi Movement in Germany.   How do Colonel Sir Edward Ware, Dora, Mrs. Byrne, and Winston Churchill — along with their spy Putlitz who works in the German Embassy in London — thwart Hitler and his attempts to finance his growing movement? What do they do about the Prince of Wales who has taken a liking to Hitler and his ways as Hitler starts by attempting to take over Thuringia? Find out when Cheops Books LLC publishes the book. It is coming soon to Amazon Kindle.

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Chapter 22: Wall Street Swastika: Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner
“My word!” the art director exclaimed. “What the times are coming to!” he shook his head as he continued forward up the stairs towards Dora’s cabin. “First you have the stock market crash in New York. Then everything else starts falling apart like a domino effect. It seems like the social order is breaking down if you ask me.”
The art director did not know how close he was to putting his finger on what was really going on. Adolf Hitler who was sailing aboard this ship was definitely a sign of the decline and fall of the social order. She, Edward, and Churchill were trying to set it right again sometimes all by themselves.
The art director carrying the painting knocked on the door of the suite. Immediately Edward opened it. He saw Dora and grabbed her into his arms and shut the door. The art director knocked again. Churchill took the painting and quickly thanked the man.
Dora whispered to Churchill to say something to the director to get rid of him. Churchill forced a smile onto his face and spat, “It is definitely NOT a Monet.”
“I thought not!” the art director said.
They slammed the door for the final time that night. They ordered room service and did not go down to the dining room while Churchill put the unwanted painting aside in a closet.
“Did you shoot the thugs?” Dora asked Edward horrified.
Edward nodded. “We had to let them know we meant business. They were after you, weren’t they?”
After all, Edward, Colonel Sir Edward Ware, was a crack shot. He had been so since his days in the Great War serving under Lawrence of Arabia in the Middle East.
She nodded. “They already threw me in an empty cabin. It was beginning to remind me of the Lusitania all over again. But I threw my purse at the thug and escaped. They followed me to the ship’s art gallery. I had to think of something so I bought the painting.”
Churchill nodded. “We got your notes. That alerted us to figure out what was going on.”
“One of them was carrying a knife,” Edward said. “They were following you upstairs. Who knows what they would have done? So I shot them in self-defense.”
The next evening which was the last night of the voyage to Hamburg, Churchill, Dora, and Edward occupied their table in the dining room by the window to make a statement and show Hitler that they were not easily cowed. Hitler was seated opposite them in the center of the dining room gaily greeting waiters and waving at guests. Lots of people stopped by to shake his hand and meet the up and coming star of the National Socialist Party in Germany.
“So goes the British upper class!” groaned Churchill, shaking his head in disapproval.
Of course the real attention-getter was the Prince of Wales sitting at the same table next to the gaudily adorned Helga von Wessel and her husband in tuxedo, Herr von Wessel. The Prince was gazing intently into Frau von Wessel’s eyes as she used her hands and talked, describing the wonders of National Socialism and what it could do for Germany in the next few years. She was dressed in a black sequined gown all the way down to her ankles. The dress featured black puffy sleeves made of lace and a lace sheath that covered the rest of the dress.
But suddenly the Prince caught sight of Dora seated there near the window in the gown she had bought at such a cost yesterday in the shop on the ship. He waved at her, smiled, and rose from his seat.
Frau von Wessel grabbed for his arm. “Your Highness, you don’t want anything to do with Mrs. Byrne. She is an American divorcee or about to be one! That would never do. And besides, she doesn’t see things the way we do.”
“Nonsense!” His Majesty proclaimed. “It doesn’t matter. I have always admired Americans and divorcees are a more independent thinking kind of woman. I admire that, too.” He headed towards their table by the window.
Frau von Wessel scowled at Dora in envy that the Prince of Wales, the new benefactor of the Nazi Party, should think anything about Mrs. Byrne was interesting at all.
Dora was scandalized. She looked towards Churchill, then Edward, pleading with them to help her. But apparently neither of them could do anything at all about the actions of the Prince of Wales as he plopped down in a chair at the same table right beside them. He moved his chair closer to Dora who was so flabbergasted she did not know what to do except to gape at His Majesty.
“So you are the heiress from America!” the Prince exclaimed. “At least that is what Frau and Herr von Wessel tell me.”
He glanced back at his other recently met friends. The von Wessels plastered artificlal smiles on their faces. Hitler himself broke off his conversation to wave.
 Dora nodded woodenly. She swallowed hard. She had to sit here and listen to this.
“You and your millions could make the biggest difference to Herr Hitler and his friends and associates,” the Prince expounded.
Hitler again flashed them a winning smile.
Winston glared at the upstart.
Edward motioned to Dora to go on. She had to answer the Prince.
Dora wet her lips. “I am sure lots of people like charity, Your Highness, but I am inclined to keep charity at home which means the United States and not give it out to dangerous foreign types. That is what my father taught me.”
The Prince pointed at her and wagged his finger. “My parents the King and Queen of England taught me much the same thing. But I have learned to think for myself.”
Winston rolled his eyes. He leaned toward Edward and hissed, “That is the understatement of the year.”
“Your Highness,” Winston broke in. “Your parents the King and Queen would be much grieved to see you handing money to foreigners with whom they have no diplomatic relations.”
“Well, they should, and I intend to be the first to say so!” the Prince said stubbornly. “He is better than the Weimar government any day.”
Dora thought he sounded like a spoiled twelve year old, but a dangerous spoiled twelve year old.
After a few more minutes of unendurable behavior, the shadow of Frau von Wessel loomed over the table. She took the Prince’s arm. “Enough fun for now, Your Majesty,” she urged him to go, “it is time for Herr Hitler to practice one of his speeches. He is going to introduce you to the crowd at Nuremberg, remember? Don’t you want to hear what he is going to say?”
The Prince of Wales leaped up. “I certainly don’t want to miss one of Herr Hitler’s speeches even if he is only practicing. Would you like to come, too, Mrs. Byrne?” he asked Dora.
Edward rose and took Dora’s arm. “Sorry, Your Highness, but Mrs. Byrne would not be attending a Herr Hitler speech if it were the last available entertainment aboard this ship.”
With that rejoinder Edward led Dora away out the entrance to the restaurant and up the stairs to their cabin just as Frau von Wessel led the Prince of Wales away. Dora hoped never to have to confront him again this side of Hamburg.

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Chapter 21: Wall Street Swastika: Lawrence Maps Or Your Life:
The German spies were getting so close Dora wanted to scream. But at the last moment they stopped and started to gaze at the portrait on the wall next to the one that resembled Monet’s Woman With A Parasol. It was another portrait of some undistinguished person that the painter must have known. Obviously the goons had deliberately moved physically closer so that they could keep up with what Dora was doing and so they could hear better what she said.
Dora knew this was a dangerous game that she, Churchill, and Edward were playing. It had not improved over the years either. It reminded her of when she took her first transatlantic crossing on the last voyage of the Lusitania in May of 1915. A goon hired by the Kaiser called Ali had followed her aboard, kidnapped her, and tied her ultimately to a pillar in the engine room with her future husband, Michael Byrne. They had barely escaped when the ship was torpedoed and the second mysterious explosion had occurred when Ali had set off his chemical bomb. Since she had not handed over the first Lawrence maps even then, she had been forced to row ashore with her father and mother. They had also been aboard the doomed ocean liner. In those days she had not even known what a Lawrence map was, though Ali had interrogated her about it. She was soon to find out, though, as soon as she got to Queenstown, Ireland and ran into the future Colonel Sir Edward Ware as a young man about to ship off for Gallipoli. He had told her all about the maps. Before the war was over he was to send them to her to keep in Pittsburgh. Then when she showed up in Paris for the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, Lawrence of Arabia himself, author of the maps, key to world domination, handed her a box of maps to keep with her when she returned to America. Lawrence thought they would be safer there than in Europe where greedy Germans even after the war were looking everywhere for them.
No one had made a better prediction. Here the Germans were crowding her out on the lower level of deck 3. It was ten years later, and they were seeking the same maps.
“M’lady, I should take a moment to wait on these gentlemen,” the art director tried to excuse himself, “while we wait for your art collector friends to arrive.”
“No matter what my friends say, I want to buy this painting. Don’t your have forms to fill out?” she pressed. She ran her hand up and down her arm.
The art director got out his bell and again rang for his assistant. “Will you please wait on the patient gentlemen over there while I wait on the lady?” he asked her.
Dora hovered over the art director protectively while he filled out form after form. She knew that he was all that shielded her from instant capture and being taken forcibly from this room at gunpoint with the butt of the pistol pointed toward her back especially when she no longer had her own gun to defend herself. It would be worse than the Lusitania. On the Lusitania there was just Ali. Here were two thugs who could jump her at once.
The art director asked Dora her name and address as well as her phone number. As she was reciting numbers, she noticed that the thugs had dismissed the assistant to the art director. They of course were not really interested in the paintings at all. Now they were slipping gloves over their hands. She swallowed hard. Did they intend to attack her anyways?
Then it came to her as if they had hit her with a mallet. She had summoned Edward and Churchill. They must have guessed that. They were not moving in on her because they were more interested in the menfolk. They would make a juicier capture than an American heiress. Neither had been present on the Lusitania or Ali himself might have preferred them to her or even Michael Byrne.
She tried keep her wits about her. She had to get out of here.
“Let’s —- let’s take the painting up to my cabin,” she suggested to the art director. “My friends are taking too long to arrive.” She had to reach Edward and Winston Churchill. She had to warn them what the rogues were planning. Certainly she should not be left alone like this while the clock was ticking and danger appeared at every turn.
She signed to put the cost of the painting on her final room tab to be paid at the end of the voyage to the purser’s desk.
The goons were trailing them as they left the shop. She hoped they did not intend to surprise them in a darkened hallway. She glanced over her shoulder. They were leaving the shop, too. They were only a few steps behind them. They did not want her to warn her confederates.
Suddenly she heard gunfire from one of the balcony’s above in the grand lobby. Women shrieked all around. She heard screams from behind her. The two thugs had collapsed on the floor of the lobby lying on oriental rugs looking blankly up at the chandeliers with vacant eyes. They were dead.

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Chapter 20: Wall Street Swastika: The Lawrence Maps:
The goon pressed his revolver against Dora’s shoulder. “I have orders to shoot you dead if you don’t cooperate, Mrs. Byrne.” He spoke with a German accent. “If I were you, I would hand over those maps, or you might just find yourself not here anymore.”
She scowled at him. This kind of complication was all she needed right about now. She was trying to hurry to meet Edward and Churchill for afternoon tea in the Queen’s Room on deck 3. How was she going to communicate with them now?
“Here,” she had the presence of mind to click open the top of her handbag. “I keep the maps here all in a row all neatly filed,” she lied.
He had not been expecting that answer. His eyebrows rose suddenly and with great interest. Good.
Dora threw the handbag at him. He caught it with both hands, naturally not wanting to drop it. She took advantage of the distraction to shove around him out of the cabin and race down the hallway. She headed towards the art gallery. It was the first place she caught sight of. It was not very crowded right now. She headed immediately to the desk. The gentleman in attendance stood up. She threw herself at him, pointing at the first painting she saw. “Is that a Monet?” she pressed. It was the first thing that popped into her head.
“I don’t think so. We don’t have any Monets here,” the man begged off. “But we do feature some younger painters who aren’t as famous but who we think are very talented and will do well in the future. We encourage all our guests to buy what pleases them. In the future the paintings will always be worth more and more than what you paid for them.
“But that painting looks so much like Woman With a Parasol,” Dora insisted as she saw the goon and a helper appear at the door to the art gallery. He was carrying her handbag that she had thrown at him. It seemed to be empty. No doubt he had cleaned it out looking for the Lawrence maps. Of course he had not found them. Edward had them up his sleeve as usual..
Dora moved even closer to the art gallery attendant. She figured they would not grab at her or try to snatch her again as long as she stuck to this man as if he were her long lost brother.
“Look at the sheen of the sunlight on her dress and the reflection in the water,” Dora said.
“Well, occasionally paintings do get mislabeled,” he hemmed and hawed. “I do remember the art gallery owner —- we are stationed in London, you know —- going to an exhibtion of Monets in Paris several months ago. I don’t imagine that he bought one, but you never know for sure.”
He reached for a catalog of paintings in the exhibition on the ship. He went down column after column. He apparently did not find anything. So he could out another catalog and searched for that.
“I am sailing with an art expert,” Dora volunteered all too eagerly when she noticed that Hitler’s thugs had advanced into the gallery and were pretending to admire the paintings exhibited on the walls and on each side of each porthole. Really they were obviously just trying to get closer to her by the desk. “If you will send for him, he can judge the painting and see what he thinks.”
“I am sure I would be glad to entertain your fellow art collectors,” the attendant exclaimed and rang a bell for a lady assistant who instantly appeared from a back room.
Dora thought, Good! The more people I can summon the better. I don’t want to be alone with those freaks.
“You should take the lady’s notes to her friends. They are art collectors too,” the man gave his assistant a significant glance.
Dora measured the distance the spies had to move to reach her behind the desk. “Do hurry!” she told the lady. “One of my friends is in cabin 4118 and the other occupies 4116,” she instructed the assistant. “It is only one floor up from here. They would be so happy to see this painting.”
She scribbled:
Edward:
Hurry down to the art gallery on deck 3 lower level. I am there alone right now with the gallery attendant. Hitler’s hired guns are closing in on me by the minute. I have already escaped once. I don’t know if I can manage again. Right now I am holding them at bay by talking to the gallery attendant about a painting which I said reminds me of Monet. The gunmen have my handbag which I had to throw at them minutes before to escape. So I don’t even have my gun with me.”
Dora
She folded the note and handed it over and then hurriedly scribbled another to Winston saying pretty much the same thing. She added:
Winston:
Hitler has not come to England just to get funding for his elections in Germany and to use the von Wessels to snag the Prince of Wales. No! He is after the maps. The thugs thought I had them and tried to kidnap me after I left the dress shop. I had to throw my purse at them and run. Now I am in the art gallery. But they have found me. I need immediate assistance.
Dora
She heard the trampling of feet and looked up. The men were only about two yards away. They were headed straight for her. Should she scream? She had only seconds to decide.

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Chapter 19: Wall Street Swastika: Dora Gets Kidnapped
Dora did not hesitate to push the Prince away. She raised her hand to slap him if he persisted in mauling her and fondling her.
She heard female laughter all around her. It got louder and turned into a raucous giggle. “That is just Mrs. Byrne, Your Highness. Don’t let her scare you,” said the low alto voice that Dora recognized all too well.
The Prince looked temporarily taken aback. He was not accustomed to ladies pushing him away. Usually they followed him about in crowds flirting with him and oohing and aahing about everything he said. They complimented him and remarked on how brilliant it was whether it was or not.
“Mrs. Byrne is an American,” Helga remarked. “She isn’t any fun.” She made a nasty, exaggerated face at her enemy in the stalls on the ship.
“On the contrary, I have always been very fond of Americans,” the Prince smiled at Dora. “Independent types. I envy them their freedom to do and say as they wish.”
Dora shut the drapes to her stall decisively, though she was sure the Prince was not accustomed to that behavior either. She quickly put on her own clothes and got ready to flee. She did not want to be caught by a bunch of freaks sent by the von Wessels to capture her and drag her off somewhere just like poor Rita Jolivet and the lighthouse in Nova Scotia. Just because she was on the ocean liner headed for Hamburg did not prevent that sort of wayward behavior.
“When you run into Mrs. Byrne that means that Colonel Sir Edward Ware must not be far behind. And in this instance I think you will even find the backbencher MP Winston Churchill aboard this ship,” Frau von Wessel said to the Prince as he helped her with her zipper.
Dora knew she had been found out. She had exposed them to danger.
“Churchill!” the Prince exclaimed. “You don’t say! I remember his family living nearby one of our Palaces. He was in the government during the war. He did a credible job as Secretary of Munitions, but he got sacked as First Lord of the Admiralty for Gallipoli and for the Lusitania.” He sighed. “But you say he has got himself involved in intrigue with Hitler and Germany?”
“Up to his neck!” Frau von Wessel sounded dramatic.
“I suppose he will never learn,” the Prince reflected. “Herr Hitler seems to be an up and coming force in Europe. Too bad he can’t see it that way.”
“Churchill isn’t as smart as you are, Your Highness,” Helga purred as Dora put her shoes back on, and she was forced to listen to more smooching and giggles. “And he’s much older and way too old fashioned. He thinks he is back in the era of Queen Victoria, your grandmother.” She laughed and laughed. “He doesn’t have all the new ideas like Adolf Hitler. I guess that’s why he is always snooping into our affairs anyway and trying to interfere with everything we do. He doesn’t approve of us.”
“I don’t understand why,” the Prince. “Anybody who doesn’t approve of you must be a eunuch or a fool.”
Dora peered out the dressing room. She looked from side to side as Helga and the Prince carried on shamefully in the dressing room right next to her while Helga attempted to wheedle money from the Prince for Hitler. She noticed two big-shouldered goons in dark suits and glasses standing by the entrance to the dress shop. She had no illusions that they had been summoned to handle her.
Dora had to make a break for it. She did not know what else to do. She waved at the shop assistant. She forced herself to smile. “I am ready to buy this dress. Could you assist me?”
The lady was of course more than happy to do so. Dora with seeming impulsiveness pointed at this scarf and that piece of jewelry. She added them to the total and checked out several bags full of merchandise.
“Oh, excuse me, but could you help me to my cabin!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I don’t think I could carry everything all by myself.”
Since she had purchased over one thousand dollars worth of items the shop was only too glad to send one of their assistants over to her cabin that she was sharing with Edward on the main deck. Dora attempted to brush past the goons with the shop assistant. But no sooner did she try to enter the first dark hallway than one of them cupped his hand over her mouth and drew her into an empty cabin.
“All right,” the goon pressed her, “where are those Lawrence maps?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she attempted to put them off with her standard answer.
Hitler might be after money to fund his political campaigns. But he was always after the Lawrence maps.

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Chapter 18: Wall Street Swastika: The Prince Assaults Dora:
Edward, Dora, and Churchill scurried about the Ocean Terminal in Southampton looking to buy tickets on the cruise to Hamburg across the English Channel and across the North Sea. Dora did not have any luggage with her. The little she had brought across the Atlantic had been sent ahead to Ware Hall. And now it did not look as if she were going there. And there was nothing to buy in the terminal building.
Dora promised herself she would hit the shops in the lobby as soon as she boarded the ship to find a change of clothes and a nightgown at the very least. She could not let the wastrel Prince interfere with her whole routine and her life, too.
They tried to stay clear of the German party and the Prince, and of course the Prince of Wales was attracting all sorts of attention particularly from the ladies who were crowding around him asking for his autograph. Dora did not even bother to see their cabin first. She dashed over to her favorite dress shop that also sold handbags, scarves, and jewelry. She began trying outfits on in the spare dressing room area that was squeezed in between two shops on this deck. She usually wore only Elsa Shaparelli originals. But this time she was going to have to compromise. Otherwise she would have to wear her old clothes the whole voyage and she had already worn them across the Atlantic.
Not long after she started to try on a white chiffon dress with folds in the lower skirt half and a white net attached to the casual straw hat, than she heard shrieks of laughter. She peered out at crack in the curtain of her stall. To her horror she could not help but notice Frau von Wessel squeezing her her into own dressing stall right next to her.
Even worse, Dora heard a male voice, too. She could not believe that she looked out of the stall to observe the Prince of Wales.
“You should get the low-backed gown with the flower prints,” the Prince insisted.
“Way too expensive!” Frau von Wessel exclaimed. “My budget won’t allow it.”
“I could never permit such an injustice! Since I am devoting my fortune to Herr Hitler the least I can do is to make certain that his assistants dress properly.”
“But I couldn’t impose on you!” Frau von Wessel leaned out of the dressing room in the most provocative, flirtatious way imaginable. She poked the Prince in the nose as if they were already on intimate terms.
Dora was more than horrified. She would have to remember what was going on and who said what to whom to report back to Edward and Winston Churchill as soon as she could get out of here and reach her cabin and safety. The Prince and Frau von Wessel should not see her. That would not be proper. Winston and Edward certainly would not like it.
The shop assistant bustled back and forth handing clothes to Frau von Wessel to try on and handing clothes to Dora. Dora silently tried to warn the lady off. She shook her head and tried to discourage her.
“We want you to dress right. Herr Hitler deserves to have his representatives look like they are in the pink of fashion. The workers should vote for him and sweep away that corrupt Weimar government!” The Prince asserted as he waited outside in the hallway where he must be squeezed because there was not much room at all. He must be bumping into the assistant on all occasions.
“You are so kind, Prince!” Helga gushed. “If only we had other supporters like you. Herr Hitler’s path towards saving Germany and its workers would not be so long and hard.”
“I will do everything I can to help and more!” the Prince promised.
Dora clapped her hands over her mouth and gasped. The Prince was reaching into her dressing room and grabbing hold of her instead of Frau von Wessel. She was being catapulted out of the stall and into the Prince’s arms. Before Dora could stop him, his lips landed on her own. Dora felt the shriek rising from the bowels of her being. Then she screamed and screamed and screamed.

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