He took a step forward, and I pretended to be flustered while I tried to work out what to do next. Matthew wasn’t the type to have his head turned by fluttering lashes and girlish giggles. I heard Lillian shout out in triumph, and I nodded at Maisie, urging her on. If she gave up in frustration, as she so often did, I might never get another private conversation with Matthew.
“I’m quite ordinary,” I said. “A governess traveling with a widowed father, his ancient spinster aunt, and two daughters who will use any excuse to escape their lessons.”
“But who is she, this governess?” he teased. “I know nothing about her.”
Why would he want to? I was passably attractive (my mother’s words, forever imprinted on my memory), but had none of the glamour I’d assumed a man like Matthew would be drawn to. My dress was simple white cotton, and my dark-brown hair was cut in a practical chin-length bob. My figure was all wrong for the fashions of the times: bosomy on top and rounded at the hips, so dresses clung stubbornly to my curves rather than cascading elegantly downward.
I had to pretend none of that mattered. I’d risen above the miseries of my childhood because I was determined not to let my past define my future. Self-confidence was the only advantage I had.
“If you were a detective—Sherlock Holmes, say—you could deduce everything you need to know,” I said in a breezy tone. “I’m practically penniless, as you can tell from the scuffs on my shoes and the fact that I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday. I’m well educated; otherwise, Mr. Headly would never have hired me, yet I also told you I’m not part of the family’s regular staff. When the girls go back to boarding school in the fall, I’ll be out of a job. And I haven’t the faintest idea what I’ll do next.
“Now for the most damming evidence of all: I am confessing all this to a man I hardly know, which must mean I am either terribly forward or terribly lonely. There you have it! A complete portrait of Miss Kate Moore. I warned you. It makes for a very dull story.”
“Then why is it I’d rather talk to you than any other person on this ship?” Matthew’s voice had dropped to a whisper, and he was so close, his breath tickled my cheek.
Before I could respond, we were interrupted by an irate Maisie, who ran over from the court and threw her stick at my feet, the clatter echoing along the deck.
“Lillian cheated!”
“Don’t blame me for your clumsiness,” Lillian snapped as she walked over to join us.
The spell was broken, and Matthew’s playfulness vanished. With formal politeness, he leaned forward in a bow and said, “Ladies, forgive me. I promised to join a game of cards this afternoon, and I’ll be forced to walk the plank if I’m not there to make a fourth at bridge.”
Thrown off balance by his sudden change in tone, I barely had time to nod before Matthew walked away. Moments later, I heard a familiar tap-tap-tap and guessed the reason for his quick departure. The girls’ great-aunt, Constance, came tottering toward us, her slouched upper body jolting with each movement of her cane. One of Cincinnati’s haughtiest social doyennes, she had been taken aback to discover that her reputation didn’t carry beyond the Ohio state limits. The humiliation had made her more high-handed with the few of us still subject to her commands.
“Miss Moore, we mustn’t allow the girls to tire themselves with recreational pursuits. Surely these hours should be set aside for their studies?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, mentally pushing aside the irritation that swelled up whenever Aunt Constance shared one of her self-important pronouncements. I told Lillian and Maisie to get their books from the cabin and meet me in the ship’s library.
“I can’t say I approve of Preston buttering up the young Lemont fellow,” Aunt Constance said. “It won’t do for the girls to be seen with him at every meal.”
“Why not?” I asked. “He seems very polite.”
“Don’t you know anything about the Lemonts?” Aunt Constance glared at me, irritated, as if my stupidity was beyond her comprehension.
“They’re rich,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
“We are unfortunate enough to live in a time when hedonism is celebrated rather than condemned,” said Aunt Constance mournfully. “The Lemonts’ money keeps them from being ostracized. But they’ll never be respectable, no matter how much they spend.”
I couldn’t understand it. Matthew looked and acted like a perfect gentleman. It’s what had drawn me to him, from the very first time I spotted him on board.
“There’s always been something strange about that family,” Aunt Constance continued. “They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want—that’s what everyone says about the Lemonts.” She shook her head in haughty disapproval. “That young man’s father and grandfather were the subjects of unsavory rumors for years.”
I was taken aback by the vehemence of her tone.
“A girl disappeared at their estate, you know. Simply vanished!”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Honestly, I can’t remember. It happened years ago. But I will not have Lillian and Maisie tarnished by association. We must distance ourselves from Mr. Lemont for the rest of our journey.”
We? Aunt Constance wasn’t concerned about my welfare; it was Lillian and Maisie she wanted to shield from whatever bad influence the Lemonts represented. Not that I took her suspicions seriously. At the time, I dismissed her as a bitter old woman, jealous of another family’s good fortune. I never considered that her accusations might be true, that something dangerous might be lurking beneath Matthew’s refined exterior. I looked at her pinched, judgmental face and nodded obediently, hiding my disappointment and frustration. I’d hoped our flirtation might last beyond the voyage. Now, thanks to Aunt Constance’s meddling, I’d never speak to Matthew again.
But I was wrong. That night, when I returned to my oppressively tiny cabin and the rattling snores of the elderly woman who had been assigned as my bunkmate, I found a cream-colored envelope sitting on top of my mattress. I ripped the seam open with one finger and pulled out a thick note card with Matthew Lemont embossed in gold letters at the top.
My dear Miss Z, he wrote in a narrow, angular hand.
With our voyage approaching its conclusion, I find myself much concerned with your plight. As we will both be traveling westward, I cordially invite you to join me in my family’s private railcar, which will be departing from Pennsylvania Station two days after the Franconia docks. I would be happy to escort you to the station of your choice in Ohio, but I hope you will consider continuing on for a visit to Chicago. The thought of giving up our lively conversations is enough to send me jumping off the deck at the earliest opportunity, so your answer must be yes.