“It’s all right,” I said, despite the sudden drop in my stomach. Her words were like a slap to the face. I knew she hadn’t meant it, but it still stung. “I’m ready for this night to be over.”
We swept inside, our dresses wrinkled, hair disheveled, a pair of wilted flowers. Elvira dropped onto the couch, yawning hugely. I cast her an amused glanced as I took out my pins, freeing my wild hair, and strove for a light tone. “Elvira, at the risk of sounding like your mother, promise me that you’ll wake me before your rendezvous. I’ll accompany you . . . no, don’t make that face. It is the proper, and safe, thing to do.”
“All right, all right.”
“Why is this so important to you?”
Elvira shifted in her seat, her eyes wide and pleading. “Inez, I’ve never been on my own before. I just want time to do something that’s not on a schedule or approved by my mother. One day, I’ll be married to a perfect stranger, very likely. Someone chosen for me. But tomorrow, I’ll be spending time with someone I picked. Can’t you understand?”
It was incredible how quickly we fell into similar patterns. Elvira would follow me anywhere, trust me to lead her on the grand adventure. And it was my responsibility to look out for her. To protect her from whatever scrape I’d landed us in. Like the time we got stuck in a tree when we were six years old, or the time I’d gotten us lost in the heart of downtown Buenos Aires. She trusted me to get us home in one piece.
But the minute we docked, our lives would be scheduled, and shepherded into a future my aunt approved of. These were the last moments of unencumbered freedom.
“I understand,” I said. “Have your morning with the fellow.” Then I swooped down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “But I’m still going to be there. Don’t forget to wash the soot off your face before bed.”
Elvira rolled her eyes and then stood, helping me out of the tight confines of my evening dress. She pulled a little too tightly on the stays of my corset and I yelped. When I stood in my chemise, I returned the favor and then we both went into our separate rooms. Without my parents’ things, the bedroom could have been anyone’s.
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or not.
*
I awoke to the sound of loud knocking. I rubbed my eyes, gingerly sitting up in bed as the noise grew louder. With an incoherent sound of protest, I climbed out of the bed and drew on my white dressing gown and stumbled out into the main room of our suite. The sharp knocking continued and I yanked open the door.
I hadn’t expected to see Whit again.
He stood on the other side, his fist raised. He dropped his arm abruptly and sagged against the doorframe. “You’re here.”
I made a show of looking around. “Where else would I be?”
“I need to come in,” Whit said.
I stepped aside to let him through and he closed the door behind him. This was so uncharacteristic of him, acting outside the lines of propriety, that I was momentarily without words. But I recovered quickly. “What are you doing?”
“Is Elvira here?”
At first, I didn’t understand the question. Then his words cut through the mental fog of fitful sleep. Dread pooled deep in my belly. “She ought to be.”
Whit stood in the middle of the room, his hands deep in his pockets, a grim line to his mouth. “Go look, Inez.”
I was already heading to the adjacent room, and when I opened the door, the empty bed stared back at me cheekily. A groan of exasperation escaped me. I had told her to wake me, to not go down without me. I spun around, my hands flying onto my hips.
“Where did you see her?” I demanded. “No doubt enjoying a pastry out on the terrace with her morning date—”
“Who?” Whit interrupted.
“The man she danced with. I didn’t learn his name.” My lips parted; I hadn’t thought to ask. I had assumed I’d be with her for the rendezvous.
Whit was making a commendable effort to keep his attention trained on my face, but when I moved, the slide of my robe revealed the frilled hem of my nightgown. He turned away abruptly and sat down on the available chair, unoccupied by my parents’ trunks.
“I didn’t see her personally,” he said, his voice grave and serious. “I went down to the lobby for coffee and Sallam remarked that he saw someone who looked like you get into a carriage around eleven in the morning.”
“She wouldn’t have,” I said. “She isn’t stupid. There must be some mistake.”
“Fine,” Whit said. “Where is she?”
“I told you, taking tea out on the terrace.”
“I didn’t see her out there,” Whit said gently.
A roar sounded off in my ears. “Let me get dressed.”
“Please,” Whit muttered.
I went to my room and shut the door behind, and quickly decided on a day dress in a light green and cream stripe, and realized that I had a problem. The dress would only fit with a corset and bustle, and while I could put on the latter, I couldn’t do the former without assistance. I groaned. This day was already off to a terrible start. I opened the door and stuck my head out.
“Whit, you’re my friend, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” came Whit’s impatient reply. “What in God’s name is taking you so long?”
No one felt the urgency of the moment more than I did. My mind raced with possibilities of where Elvira might be—because I knew she would never get in a stranger’s carriage. “So you wouldn’t mind cinching my corset for me?”
Whit dropped his head into his hands. “Damn it, Olivera.”
I remained silent.
“I’ll go find someone to help you,” he said rather desperately, standing.
I shook my head. “That will take longer. Will you please just tie up my laces? It won’t take a moment and then we’ll never speak of it again.”
Whit glared at me, and I waited patiently for him to see there was only one course of action available. He muttered a distinctly foul word under his breath and walked toward me, his blue eyes icy and fixed solely on my face. “Turn around,” he said through gritted teeth.
I obeyed quietly, sensing that if I antagonized him further, he’d probably start bellowing. I was worried for Elvira, but for half a moment, I let myself smirk.
Whit’s tone was deadly. “Stop smiling.”
“I wasn’t.”
He tugged at the stays fiercely and my breath whooshed out of me. “You’re a rotten liar.” He worked quickly, his fingers accidentally brushing against my upper back.
“You’ve done this before,” I remarked casually. “It’s not an easy thing to figure out. Judging by how effectively—”
“Quiet,” Whit snapped.
My grin returned.
“I’m done,” he said, his breath tickling the back of my neck. “Go put on your gown—”
I turned around with an apologetic smile. “The dress has two dozen tiny buttons on the back. I’ll need your help.”
Whit’s expression turned murderous. I quickly went and put on the bustle and then stepped into the dress, putting my arms through the sleeves. I came back out, wisely checking my amusement. Whit’s expression hadn’t changed. He walked around me and began buttoning me up.
“This dress is absolutely ridiculous.”
“I agree with you. I’d much rather be wearing what you’re dressed in.”