The Forgiving Heart (The Heart of Minnesota Book 1) (9 page)

Mr. Beauchamp smirked a little, “You are doctoring my words and now hers.”

Karlijna didn’t bother to deny it, “As little as possible, sir.”

Helga stood quickly, “What are you saying to each other?” fists to her hips, she scowled at them.

Her outburst drew her brother’s attention, “Is there a problem?”

Helga turned to him, “Yes,” she pouted in a fashion that would have made a prettier woman look bad, “Karlijna isn’t telling me what Mr. Beauchamp is saying to her.”

Mr. Sodergaard rolled his eyes, “Maybe it is a private conversation, Helga.”

That woman turned on her brother, resentment visible in every feature, “
I
was having a conversation with him, Roald, before your
employee
decided to take over the topic for her own purposes.”

The way the woman said, “employee,” made Karlijna feel as if it must have an ignominious meaning.

Roald frowned at Miss Sodergaard, “Really, Helga,” his tone spoke of his annoyance.

“Fine,” her tone indicated it was anything but, “You ask her what he just said that she wouldn’t repeat.”

Karlijna, having a little time to think was able to come up with a suitable reply, “He said he did not believe I was interpreting things quite accurately, sir,” the girl addressed herself to her boss, rather than the irate sister.

Roald narrowed his eyes, “What would make him say that?”

Kalrijna cleared her throat, searching for a delicate way to say it.  Mr. Beauchamp decided he didn’t like to be kept from the conversation.

“What is being said?  I believe I have gotten you into trouble.”

Karlijna answered him in French, “Mr. Sodergaard wishes to know why I am not interpreting things accurately.”

Back to the siblings, she spoke in Swedish, “Mr. Beauchamp wanted to know if he had gotten me in trouble.”

Mr. Sodergaard snorted, the episode forgotten, and went back to his paper. Helga wasn’t appeased.

“I want you to try,” she spoke in an angry, condescending manner, “to get it right now.”

Smiling large in the guest’s direction, a thing that was laughable after her tantrum, she questioned him again, “Do you have many siblings?”

Karlijna swallowed her sigh, “Please,” she implored the man in French, her features as bland as usual, “don’t cause me trouble.  Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Yes.”

Helga did not need the translation for t
his. She smiled and prodded, “How many?”

Karlijna repeated the question.

“Four,” he answered, his face as expressionless as the young interpreter’s.

“Are they in the same business as you?” the woman tried again.

Karlijna  translated.

“No.”

Helga pursed her lips and glared at Karlijna as if the fault belonged on that head, “I am going to retire now. This has been a very trying evening.” 

T
he woman stalked from the room. Karlijna watched her for a moment before turning her gaze back to the man in front of her. He was barely holding his laughter.

“Mr. Beauchamp,” she boldly chastised him, “I believe you are trying to get me in trouble.”

He looked unrepentant.

She tried again, “I could lose my job for this.”

He shook his head, “I think not. Roald knows a good thing when he’s got it.”

Karlijna tried not to smile at the praise, “I have no other skills and there is very little employment of this type.”

The French man smiled and pulled a card from a pocket in his suit coat, “If you should ever find yourself jobless, let me know. In fact, if you want to come with me when I leave on Friday, you’re more than welcome.”

Karlijna took the card and pocketed it, but shook her head, “No, thank you,” she laughed, “it would not be an easy job, working for you.”

He threw back his head and roared, “Indeed, it would not. This I have been told before.”

Karlijna sat silently.
Eventually his mirth diminished and he returned his attentions to her. He eyed her closely and leaned forward in his chair.

“You do not look French.”

“I am not.”

He leaned back again and folded his arms comfortably across his chest, “Where did you
learn to speak French so well? You have little accent.”

“I learned as a young child,” she did not resent this interrogation, but she wondered to what end it was.

“You are Belgian?”

“Yes,” she was impressed he had deducted this.

“Some of your inflections give you away.”

Karlijna smiled and nodded, but didn’t give any more information.

“I would have guessed German,” he continued, “but I think you would not be in Sweden right now in that case.”

Karlijna felt he was getting too p
ersonal. She rose, “Have you any more need of me, Sir?”

He scowled, “Oh, sit down, girl,” the man actually reached out to pull her back to her seat, “I won’t pry into your affairs anymore.”

Uneasily, Karlijna sat down.  She did not offer any more conversation and would have been content to sit and await further instruction if it hadn’t been for Mr. Beauchamp’s eyes on her. That fact and the long silence made her not a little uncomfortable.

It had also drawn Mr. Sodergaard’s attention, “Is there a problem, Karlijna?”

“No,” she answered automatically.

Mr. Beauchamp rose, “I’ll be going to bed now.”

Karlijna interpreted for Mr. Sodergaard’s sake and the men bade each other a goodnight. She kept her seat, not looking at her employer until the other man was out of earshot.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Mr. Sodergaard,” she began without preamble, “but it would be simpler for me if I did not have to interpret personal conversations between your sister and your associate.”

Mr. Sodergaard moved to a chair closer to her, “Why?”

The girl tried to hedge, “
I thought my purpose here was for business.”

Mr. Sodergaard frowned at her, “And my sister is here because your being able to accomplish this purpose is dependent on her presence,” he raised his eyebrows. “It isn’t like you to shirk duties,
whether they are yours or not. I’ve caught you in the kitchen helping the cook.”

Karlijna knew she was going to have to explain her position if the situation was to improve, “Sir, your sister asks Mr. Beauchamp personal questions.”

“Ah,” her employer interrupted before she could finish her complaint, “they are having delicate conversations, and it embarrasses you.”

The girl almost groaned w
ith his misunderstanding, “No. The topics aren’t intimate, just personal and Mr. Beauchamp doesn’t care to be questioned about his personal matters.”

Though he has no issues with questioning others.

“He has told you this?” Mr. Sodergaard’s look told of his disbelief.

“No, sir.”

“Then how do you know?”

“His responses are,” she searched for a polite word, not wanting to offend, “somewhat harsh, sir.”

“Harsh?” the man shook his head, “How so?  Has he told her to stop questioning him?”

“No, sir. That would be gracious compared to some of the things he has said.”

“Wh
y haven’t I heard any of this? All I’ve heard has been polite.”

Karlijna tensed, “I’m afraid I have not been translating everything quite accurately, Mr. Sodergaard.”

“Let me be certain we are speaking clearly,” the man rose and paced the room.  “You have been misinterpreting Mr. Beauchamp’s words to us. . .”

“Just to your sister,” Karlijna hurried to defend herself.

“To my sister, then,” he looked irritated at the interruption.

“Yes.”

Mr. Sodergaard was angry, “I do not pay you to judge what to say. I pay you to interpret exactly what is said.”

Karlijna knew this was true, but she had to be clear, “I will do as you say, sir, but I must warn you,” she pressed, “If Mr. Beauchamp continues as he has been, your sister will be very offended.”

              A glimpse of hesitancy passed over Mr. Sodergaard’s face, but he shook his head resolutely, “Be that as it may, I must have accuracy in all translations.”

             
“I understand, sir.  Thank you.”

             
Mr. Sodergaard nodded, seeming surprised at her submission, “Goodnight, Karlijna.”

CHAPTER TEN
             

Karlijna was relieved to find the next day would be busy with meetings. 

There was no opportunity for Miss Sodergaard to carry on a conversation with Mr. Beauchamp until supper time. With that meal, came another business associate and his wife. Much to Karlijna’s relief, Miss Sodergaard was acquainted with the woman, and the two ladies conversed through the meal and until the company went home.

Karlijna doubted she could make it through the evening without at least a brief exchange between the two, but she was bless
ed to find otherwise. Immediately following the guests’ departure, Mr. Beauchamp confessed his fatigue and took himself to bed. Realizing Miss Sodergaard was not wanting for her company, Karlijna took the opportunity to retire early as well.

It was well that the girl had slept well Thursday night, for she needed all her s
trength for the following day. She awoke to the noise of someone pounding on her door. Looking over to discover Miss Sodergaard sleeping, she grabbed her wrap and went to open it. She was dismayed, but not surprised to see it was Mr. Beauchamp.

“Yes?” she blinked owlishly at the man, wondering what time it was.

“I need you to come and help me,” he looked angry that she wasn’t already at his service, “I plan to leave today so I need to get an early start.”

Karlijna no
dded, “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

The man grunted, but turned to leave.

Karlijna hurried through her morning preparations. She didn’t care if she did look thrown together. He was going home and then this trial of a week would be behind her.

It took less time than she had stated and Karlijna was down in the kitchen.  Mr. Sodergaard joined them shortly and the b
usiness was completed quickly. By noon, Mr. Beauchamp was packing to return home.

“You will take the noon meal with us?” Helga looked surprised as the man came down the stairs, suitcases in hand.

Karlijna who had been waiting with that woman in the parlor, translated.

“Of course,” he looked at Karlijna rather than Helga.

“That will be wonderful,” the older woman gushed at the answer, “I’ll tell Cook to make something special.”

Karlijna translated the message.

Mr. Beauchamp didn’t try to hide his disgust, “It’s a little late to change her menu now, madam.  She is working to put it on the table.”

Karlijna took a deep breath and repeated, word fo
r word, what the man had said. She hoped the remark, though mild compared to some of the things he said, was blunt enough to stop Helga’s effusiveness. Karlijna was to be disappointed.

“Well,” Miss Sodergaard huffed, looking from the handsome, but cynical face of the man to the inno
cent face of the interpreter. She seemed as if she didn’t know where the remark had originated. “I guess Cook could change the menu if I asked her to.”

Karlijna lifted up a prayer for mercy as she repeated this to Mr. Beauchamp.

His eyes narrowed and he looked directly at Karlijna, “Well done, Miss Bergstrom. You didn’t alter my message.”

“What did he say?” Helga demanded as her brother entered the parlor.

“Dinner is ready,” her boss’ announcement was the answer to Karlijna’s prayer and she nearly jumped from her chair to get to the dining room.

Once
seated, Karlijna prayed again – this time that the conversation would center on business. It was not to be.

“Who will be there to drive you home when you arrive back in France?”

Karlijna dreaded Mr. Beauchamp’s answer.

“Tell her one of my employees,” Mr. Beauchamp looked at Karlijna.

Karlijna gratefully did so.

“Do you have many employees?”  She asked, never looking at Karlijna.

Karlijna was relieved the questions were not personal, but she wished Mr. Beauchamp would look at Helga while answering.  She knew the woman’s ire was going to be raised by the way things stood.

“Yes,” his answers were not satisfying to Helga and she made no secret of her displeasure.

“Surely,” she spoke through clenched teeth, though her voice was syrupy, “You can think of more to say to me than yes or no. We could have a conversation if you tried a little.”

Mr. Sodergaard frowned at his sister’s speech, but when Karlijna looked at him, questioning, he raised his eyebrows and gave a little nod in Mr. Beauchamp’s direction.

Karlijna realized this was to be the end of all peace.  Mr. Beauchamp would not let such a statement go.

In as clear a voice as she could muster, Karlijna repeated what the lady said.

“You’re dreading what I’m going to say, are you not?”

Karlijna
translated this into Swedish. The look of surprise on the siblings’ faces was, she knew, less than what was to come.

“You can tell her or not,” Mr. Beauchamp continued, “that I make no effort to converse with her because I have no desire to do so.”

Karlijna did not look up from her plate as she said this to Mr. and Miss Sodergaard.

A small gasp escaped
the lady’s lips, but the Frenchman was not finished.

“If your young lady here had not been so kind, you would have known it from the start.”

Again, Karlijna interpreted his words accurately.

“I find your cloying manners and prying questions nauseating.”

Karlijna had tears in her eyes as she quietly repeated this. Her voice was so low that her employer had to ask her to repeat herself. 

She lifted her face and tried again, but he stopped her.

“I’m sorry, Karlijna,” his voice was kind, “I think we got the message.”  The man turned angry eyes toward his guest.

Mr. Beauchamp had just realized what he had been doing to the girl, “Miss Bergstrom, he
touched her arm, “I apologize. I didn’t realize you were interpreting everything I said.”

She looked at him and nodded, “I should have warned you,” she acknowledged, “that I had been instructed to do so.”

Mr. Beauchamp looked sorry for the young lady, but not shamed. He finished his meal and thanked the cook. With as little speaking as possible, he left the house. Karlijna did not need to accompany him as, he assured her, there would be French speaking people at the port.

Mr. Sodergaard led the young woman into his
office and ordered her to sit. Shortly after, he brought in a glass of water.

“I apologize, Karlijna,” he sat next to her, “I had no idea that would happen.”

Karlijna sipped her water, not out of thirst, but for something to do.

“You did try to warn me.”

Karlijna set her glass on the table and looked up to him, “I wish I would have warned Mr. Beauchamp. He was as surprised as you.”

Mr. Sodergaard laughed derisively, “It is what he earned.  I hope he is ashamed of himself.”  There was a slight pause, “
I
am ashamed of
myself
, Karlijna.”

“You?” she turned in her seat to better see his face.

“My sister’s prodding was inappropriate. It was unprofessional of me to allow her to use you that way.”

Karlijna saw a little humor in this, “You would have your interpreter ignore her requests?”

He laughed softly, “I don’t know how we could have improved this, but ignoring Helga probably wouldn’t have helped anything. I will tell her things must be different next time.”

Karlijna’s throat constricted, “Next time?”

“Yes,” he rose and went to his desk, “there will most certainly be a next time. It cannot be helped.  Though the war has slowed travel to a crawl, some business is best done in person.”

Karlijna shook her head, “I don’t think I can do this again.  I am more than willing to . . .”

Her speech was cut short by Miss Sodergaard’s strident voice calling for her brother.

“Roald,” she was angry, “where are you?”

Mr. Sodergaard gave her a brief smile and a pat on her hand before exiting the office.

“What do you need, Helga?” he did not sound sympathetic toward his sister.

“To start, you can tell me why that little witch got away with that. Both of you sniveling men acted as if she was the one who had been offended.”

“We put her
in an awkward position, Helga. You must admit that.”

“Her!” the woman all but screeched, “You p
ut her in an awkward position? Did you ever think what kind of humiliation I was suffering at her hands?”

“Quiet down, Helga. She is still in the house.
She has had to deal with enough. . .”

“I
don’t care if she does hear me. She’s had to deal with enough. . .” the woman’s voice rose and fell as though she was pacing, “Did you not hear the things she was saying to me? Did it not occur to you that my feelings might be hurt?”

“Surely you cannot blame her for that, Helga,” his voice incredulous, “The other night we insisted she tell us exactly what Armand was saying and now you are angry because she finally did.”

Karlijna didn’t hear the woman reply, whether because she had nothing to say in retort or because the words were too softly spoken, the young girl couldn’t say.

“If Mr. Beauchamp was really saying those things,” the woman finally spoke again, “it was probably because that foreigner you hired was poisoning him from the beginning.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Helga,” her brother scoffed, “your pride has been injured and you’re taking it out on the girl.”

“You’d better be careful,” Karlijna could hear the woman’s shoes clicking on the tile near the front door, “She’ll poison other things as well.  Pretty soon you won’t have a business to run.”

With that statement, the door opened and slammed shut. Karlijna could not help feeling a great sense of relief over the woman’s departure. She had brought disharmony from the time she walked through the door. Karlijna could only hope that things would return to normal now that she was gone.

Mr. Sodergaard returned to his office to find a white faced girl still sitting where he had left her.

“I’m going to have Olaf drive you home,” he offered.  “Take Monday off as well. You could use the rest.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she rose from her chair and walked to the door, “I’ll just get my things.”

Monday morning Karlijna offered to help in the store since she would not be needed elsewhere. Leif protested at first, but finally agreed when he saw she needed something to keep busy.

In the afternoon, Kar
lijna had a pleasant surprise. Regina came through the door with her children in tow.

“How nice to see you,” she walked around the corner and reached her hands out to her friends.

“We came to show you the children’s new coats,” Regina smiled broadly as she looked down at her offspring. They were all wearing blue woolen coats.

“They are lovely,” Karlijna began walking them back to her small room to visit.

“ Leif,” she called to him as he helped Mrs. Torkleson find thread, “I’m taking a short break.”

“Alright, Karlijna,” he called back, “Take them into the kitchen and get something warm to drink.”

Karlijna changed direction and did as she was told.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Regina began as the women sat with the children at Ingrid’s table, “I had no idea where we were going to get coats for them.”

“I was happy to help,” Karlijna poured some tea, “I only wish I could do more for you after all your family did for me.”

Regina’s eyes widened, “There is more, I suspect, that you have done.”

“What is that?” Karlijna waited to be enlightened.

“The week after we made the coat for you, three women came to us to
ask us to make some for them. They have all paid as well as you did.”

Karlijna had hoped her little attempts at advertising would pay off.

Regina further surprised her, “We have not been without work since.”

Karlijna clasped her hands to
gether, “I am so glad, Regina. I prayed you would have means of support,” she smiled broadly, “God does provide.”

Regina looked at her perplexedly, “You are a strange girl, Karlijna.”

Startled a little, Karlijna laughed uncomfortably, “Why is that?”

“You are a Genti
le, yet you care for the Jews. The way you talk about your God, I can see your faith is real, yet. . .”

Karlijna smiled, “Yet what?”

Regina looked as though she was afraid of offending, “Most Christians don’t want to associate with Jews. They call us dirty Jews, Christ-killers, all sorts of things. If you believe we are the ones who killed your Jesus, why do you treat us kindly?”

Karlijna lifted fervent p
rayer to God before answering. She had been praying for an opportunity to share her faith with her friends, but there had never been an opportunity until now. After giving each child another slice of bread to busy them, she told Regina about her faith.