true.
Helga turned angry eyes from the handsome man to the young girl, “Obviously, he said more than that, Karlijna. I demand to know what else he said.”
Karlijna looked to her boss, but Mr. Sodergaard was reading a newspaper and did not seem to be interested in the conversation of the room’s other inhabitants.
“He also wishes to know why you want to know,” Karlijna spoke softly.
Helga gave a superior smile as if this was a triumph, “You may tell him I w ish to know him better. That is why I ask.”
Karlijna barely contained the grimace that threatened to mask her face, “She says she h as no interest in your wealth. She just wishes to get to know more about you.”
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
Helga turned angry eyes from the handsome man to the young girl, “Obviously, he said more than that, Karlijna. I demand to know what else he said.”
Karlijna looked to her boss, but Mr. Sodergaard was reading a newspaper and did not seem to be interested in the conversation of the room’s other inhabitants.
“He also wishes to know why you want to know,” Karlijna spoke softly.
Helga gave a superior smile as if this was a triumph, “You may tell him I w ish to know him better. That is why I ask.”
Karlijna barely contained the grimace that threatened to mask her face, “She says she h as no interest in your wealth. She just wishes to get to know more about you.”
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
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