1 Paris, France Victoria Méliès sat patiently in the drawing room of Maison Chanel on the Rue Cambon. She had discovered the chic simplicity of Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel’s clothing while attending finishing school and over the years had become a frequent customer. The two women shared intelligence, wit and style and Victoria’s appointments were more like social calls than fittings. Chanel called Victoria, ‘her best mannequin,' and often said her clothing looked so elegant on the slender English aristocrat, that whenever Victoria wore a Chanel creation, new clients appeared at the couturier’s door requesting ensembles like the ones worn by Lady Méliès. Victoria would have looked stunning regardless of her clothing. Her honey blond hair framed her face drawing attention to mesmerizing emerald eyes. She was graceful yet sensual and exhibited a cool reserve, except among her closest friends and family to whom she was warm and animated. Together, she and the designer shared a secret. Victoria had proven herself adept at conveying secret parcels to people – to whom Chanel did not want to be linked. The designer had suggested the liaison shortly after Victoria's husband died. “I would like you to do me a favor,” Mademoiselle Chanel said – offhandedly. “What can I do for you?” Victoria asked. “It’s very simple. After you change back into your own clothing, pick up the beaded bag on that chair.” The couturier nodded toward a small chair in the corner of the room. “Take it to Marie and ask her to wrap it for you. Tell her I will add it to your account. Then go to the café around the corner and order an espresso. Tell them you’d like to see Monsieur Ariane. You will be shown into his office. Hand him the parcel and tell him it’s from me. Then you may enjoy your espresso.” “What if I don’t like espresso?” Victoria teased. “Empty it into the planter," Chanel said dryly. "If you deliver my package, and never make mention of it to anyone, you will receive a complimentary ensemble.” “Ensemble?” “Yes, the costume, dress and coat…even the hat. But it must all be our little secret.” “That’s a secret I wouldn’t mind keeping. As a matter of fact, anytime you want me to keep a secret, you can call on me.” Now their arrangement had a complication. Victoria and Chanel sequestered themselves in the couturier’s atelier. “After I delivered your parcel to the café last week, I thought I was being followed.” Chanel paled. “How did you handle it?” “I quickly turned onto another street and stepped into a doorway. When I saw him rush around the corner, I confronted him.” “My God, Victoria, you could have been killed!” “Really? What’s in those little packages that have proven to be so lucrative for my wardrobe?” She heard the slightest gasp come from Chanel’s throat. “No!” Victoria continued, “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned, they’re handbags.” “What did the man do when you confronted him?” “I told him, ‘This is not the proper way to make the acquaintance of a lady.’ And I said if he really wished to meet me, I would give him my brother’s card and he could call him to arrange an introduction. But he would have to be serious about marriage and would have to take over the financial support of my three children and pay my rent which has fallen into arrears.” Mademoiselle Chanel was amazed. “You have three children?” “Of course not! I wanted to disarm him.” “Did it work?” “Yes! He told me he only followed me because he thought I was a friend of his sister, but once we were face-to-face, he could plainly see I wasn’t. And then he scurried on his way. I haven’t seen him since, although I’ve kept an eye out for him.” For a moment, the couturier was lost in thought. “I’m having a small party in my apartment this evening. I wonder if you would come and tell me if you see the man who followed you?” “I think that could be arranged.” “There will also be a man in attendance who has information I need. You seem to be quite adept at improvising. It would be helpful to me if you would converse with him – flirt with him. Ask him about his life and his work. Then, just tell me what he says to you.” “Is this man also dangerous?” “He could be. So, be coy. And don’t, under any circumstances, allow him to escort you home. He must think your meeting is only an impromptu dalliance with no future. If he believes your encounter is more than that, it could complicate matters.” “Then I will keep it light and festive.” *** Coco Chanel’s apartment was exquisite. At the top of the mirrored circular staircase in her salon, sat a private hide-away, rich with treasures she had brought back from her travels. Lacquered, jewel-toned Coromandel screens from the Far East stood in contrast to the beige sofas on which the designer's guests sat. And the oversized gold mirror that topped the fireplace reflected the sparkle of a large crystal chandelier. Victoria arrived wearing a column of black silk and sequins and Chanel discreetly pointed out her quarry. The Englishwoman placed herself directly in the man’s view, allowing her shawl to slip down and expose one bare shoulder. “No, no.” Chanel made a fuss over the dress, saying just loud enough for the man to hear, “My most beautiful client must not cover up too much of my creation with a shawl. Allow it to fall like this.” She loosened the shawl and draped it over Victoria’s arms. “Now, the details of the design, as well as your lovely décolletage, can be viewed.” She looked up demurely at the man standing there. “Don’t you agree Herr Frankel?” “I would, Mademoiselle, but I’m reluctant to admire too closely, until I am introduced.” “Lady Méliès, allow me to introduce Günter Frankel. Be careful what you say in front of him. He’s a German officer and I haven’t yet determined if he’s friend or foe.” With that, Chanel walked away, leaving Victoria to pick up the conversation. Frankel beat her to it. “Your name is French, as is your clothing. Yet there is something about you that seems unmistakably British. Are you British, Lady Méliès?” Victoria allowed her French accent to sound just a bit heavier than normal. “Maybe, Herr Frankel. Would it make a difference?” “It’s just a little guessing game I like to play. I try to determine a person’s country of origin and political alliance, just by the way they look and carry themselves. Then I ask them outright. My first impressions are rarely incorrect.” “You must have very astute powers of observation. What else do those powers tell you about me?” Frankel smiled. “You’re a very beautiful woman who’s not afraid of men. Even strangers whom you don’t yet know.” Victoria allowed a smile to play lightly on her lips. “I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an aspersion on my character.” “It’s merely a statement of fact. That is my first impression of you.” “Well, let me tell you my first impression of you. I believe you’re an important man. And a dangerous one.” “Why would you think me dangerous, Lady Méliès?” “Because you’re a man who’s honing his skills at instantly summing up a person’s character. That tells me you're constantly on guard. And a man who’s on guard is a man who has something to fear. That makes you dangerous.” “Should I fear you, Lady Méliès?” Victoria allowed her slightly amused expression to widen into a dazzling smile. “I would be very afraid of me, Herr Frankel. I’m a woman who likes expensive things, like Mademoiselle Chanel’s clothing, Dom Perignon champagne and watches disguised as diamond bracelets. Swiss watchmakers are so clever about that.” “Soon, those Swiss watchmakers will be German watchmakers.” “What a silly thing to say. Why would they move to Germany?” “They won’t have to move to Germany. Germany is moving to them!” Victoria’s champagne flute crashed to the floor.  Visit Young Victoria to learn about her aspirations to become a spy.