Montgomery looked up from cleaning a rifle on the table. He jumped to his feet, wiping his hands on a rag. Just seeing him made me blush, remembering the near kiss in my room that had caused me to unwittingly transform him to Edward in my dream.
But maybe I’d been misinterpreting. Maybe Montgomery had just been caught up in the dizzying memories of the past, and it hadn’t meant anything more. I’d been the one practically throwing myself against him, after all. The ways of men and women were such a puzzle. And I could barely decipher my own feelings, let alone anyone else’s.
Father put down his book and looked me over. “Ah, you’re wearing one of Evelyn’s dresses. She didn’t like it, I seem to recall. Too plain. Come sit and have a cup of tea. You’ve missed breakfast by a few hours, I’m afraid.”
My feet stumbled into the room on his order. A strange sensation overcame me, as though I were stepping into a memory. Something about the placement of the furniture perhaps. Or the smell of Father’s tobacco. Something from long ago that had sunk into that delicate space between the conscious and subconscious.
I rested my fingertips on the back of the sofa, trying to remember. The feel of the worn velvet evoked shadows of a memory. I stared at my fingers. Had I seen that sofa before?
The memory almost surfaced, but one of the island natives entered, frightening it away. Dressed in a loose cotton shirt and old blue military trousers, he carried a tea tray and sandwiches. I tried not to stare. Balthazar and the little boy were abnormally hairy, but this man hadn’t a hair on him. Instead, his scalp was covered with lumpy, flesh-colored skin like scales. He was thin, normal height, with nervous eyes, and whereas the others lumbered with their strange legs, he slunk about. He set the tray on the coffee table too abruptly, rattling the cups. He tugged at the cuffs of his shirt, where I saw that the scaly affliction continued to his fingertips.
“Ah, thank you, Puck.” Father smiled.
The man’s shifty eyes looked me over, like he’d never seen a woman before. For all I knew, maybe he hadn’t. He slunk off toward a back room, and I let out an exhale.
A clock on the mantel ticked loudly. Tick, tick, tick. Like the pulsing of my veins. “Where did you get this sofa, Father?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you remember. You were so young.” At my questioning look, he motioned to it. “It’s from the house on Belgrave Square.”
Belgrave Square. Now I remembered. The sofa, the green chair, the writing desk by the window. This had been our furniture. The same sofa I used to nap on as a little girl. A tear in the fabric ran along the seam. I slid a finger over it, as if by magic I could sew it shut. “Everything was auctioned off years ago. How did you find it?”
“It’s Montgomery’s doing,” he said, pouring a cup of tea. “A chair is a chair, if you ask me, but he wanted them. And he’s a knack for finding things.” He waved a hand toward the bookshelf by the window. “He’s collected quite a variety of trinkets from our former life. You’ll remember some of them, no doubt. But first, sit down. You’re making me nervous, hovering about. You too, Prince. We’re going to have to find some use for you, you know.”
I glanced at Edward. He settled slowly into one of the worn leather chairs, and I took the sofa. Father poured me a cup of tea. “How are you feeling? You’ve been diligent about your injections, I hope.”
“Yes. I feel well. Although …” I took a sip of tea, wishing it would soothe my trembling voice. “I woke in a nightdress that wasn’t mine. I wondered if someone else had been in my room.” I spied Montgomery from the corner of my eye. If not Edward, then maybe …?
Father dismissed it with a wave. “Oh, that was Alice. She found the nightdress in your mother’s trunk. Ah, speak of the devil.” His gaze hovered in a space behind my left ear. “Come meet our guests, Alice.”
A shiver tickled the back of my neck. Had there been another person in the room behind me, and I hadn’t noticed? And another woman, on this island full of men? I twisted to look.
A girl, two or three years younger than me, stood in the shadows at the rear of the room. I started. There wasn’t a single twist to her joints or hunch to her back. Her frame was small but perfectly proportioned. I realized that after being surrounded by the natives’ lilting gaits and protruding jaws, it was her ordinariness that struck me as odd.
“Don’t be shy,” Father said. “This is my daughter. You’ve heard Montgomery and me speak of her. Come introduce yourself.”