Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) (23 page)

He loved me.

William McCabe loved me.

Part II

~G
ENEVA
~

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

~Cora~

The next day, I posted my farewell letter to Pierre—which both pained me and relieved me—and we left France behind. It felt symbolic to me as we crossed the border into Switzerland, as if I were closing the door on whatever wild dreams I’d had about Pierre, too, and could focus on the future. On Will, I thought with a smile. I only hoped the letter would reach him before he set off to meet me, or that might prove to be awkward.

I tried to sit next to Vivian, hoping we could share a quick conversation, but when I patted the seat beside me she ignored me, choosing to sit by herself. Perhaps she was vexed with me as well, I thought, for getting her beau riled up into such a state. It mattered little. Once we got to Geneva, I’d find a time and place to talk to her and find out what was happening in her head…and heart.

We traveled through deep mountain valleys filled with tidy Tyrolean buildings—with bright white, stucco walls framed by big brown timbers and bright red shutters—and past shepherds driving herds of sheep and cattle from one meadow to the next. The train track made a serpentine path through the snowcapped peaks and over frequent, frightfully high arched stone bridges where waterfalls cascaded below us.

We all sat by the windows, gazing out in awe, mesmerized. Even Montana, with her glorious mountains and lakes, could not compare to this alpine glory. Gradually, we began to descend again, arriving in Geneva midafternoon. She was a pretty city, with obvious wealth behind her—every building had a perfect facade and gleaming glass in its windows. Streetcars ran meticulously on schedule, Will said, appropriate for a city known as much for her skill in crafting clocks as she was for banking and international diplomacy.

He led the way out of the train car, then toward taxicabs that took us to a gorgeous, sprawling hotel on the shores of Lake Geneva. Women strolled in crisp white linen, parasols above their heads, dapper-looking men at their sides. And out on the water was one sailboat after another, like a scene out of a painting.

“Ahh, yes, the Genevans do enjoy a proper bit of sailing,” Art said, pausing beside me. “Did you know Lake Geneva is the biggest freshwater lake in Europe?” He lifted his camera. “Do you mind? You’re as pretty as a picture there with your parasol.”

“If you’re so inclined,” I said. Did the man never reach the end of his film?

He hovered over the viewfinder. “Would you mind looking back out over your shoulder, toward the water? I like your face in profile.”

I did as he asked, feeling a tinge of a blush at his words. And yet I sensed no interest in a personal pursuit from him. He merely was concerned about his photographs, it seemed. With each stop I thought he’d leave us, but now he was securing sailing vessels for us tomorrow, and I’d heard Vivian say something about him having contacts in Vienna.

“Perhaps I can arrange a way to get us all out on the water tomorrow, to take part in the regatta…” he said, still peering into his viewfinder.

“Is there anywhere you do not know people, Art?” I asked, considering him. I wondered how he could be away from his business for so long. Or was he merely another young man of the well-to-do set, free to travel the world on an unlimited budget?

“I do know a good number across Europe,” he said, pursing his lips. “I grew up coming here and have fostered many good relationships over the years. It’s good for my business.”

“What is your business? If I may ask,” I said. I’d seen a typewriter among his luggage and knew he spent a fair amount of time in the local telegraph office, but he spent more time developing his photographs and traveling about with us, as far as I could see.

“I deal in people,” he said with a grin, winking at me. “The interweaving of lives. The intersections of our stories.”

I frowned in confusion over his cryptic answer, but he was already moving on. He gestured again toward the water and then patted his chest. “It does a body good to be by such a lake or sea, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t restrain my smile, turning to fully look at it myself. “Indeed.”

“Maybe Andrew and Vivian will find their way back to each other,” he whispered. He looked outward. “It’s irresistibly romantic.”

I glanced up at him. “Do you believe they will?”

“I do.”

“I hope you’re right. Because right now, neither of them is speaking to me.”

He gave me a wink. “It will work out. Come on. The others are already inside. Surely William has our room assignments by now.”

He offered me his arm, and together we walked up the wide marble steps, entering the grand lobby of the hotel. Inside it was posh, luxurious, with attendants at the counter in full black-and-white livery. The biggest crystal chandelier I’d ever seen dominated the center of the ceiling; gorgeous brocade and velvet couches and chairs and settees in groupings invited guests to come and sit for a while and look out through vast banks of windows to the veranda and blue lake beyond.

“Cora, you can follow this bellman and Anna to your room,” Will said, handing me a key and gesturing toward a young attendant and my maid. “Please join us here in the lobby in two hours. We are to attend an evening garden party.”

I agreed, and we set off toward the big, curving staircase carpeted in red. Another series of windows alongside the stairs showcased the view of blue upon blue, and when we reached the top, the bellman led us down one hall, turned a corner, then down another. “Your key, mademoiselle?” he asked in heavily accented English. Here in Geneva, they spoke as much French as they did German.

I handed it to him, and he quickly unlocked the tall door and entered, holding it open for me and then Anna. He moved past me and set down my two valises, then went to the windows and pulled aside the long, thick curtains, letting the sunshine stream in. Swiftly, he pointed out the hidden en suite bathroom door, as well as the door to my maid’s room, each cleverly papered to blend in with the rest of the wall. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a silver tray, on which was a pitcher of water, glasses, lemon slices, and a plate of cookies. “Anything else I might get for you, Mademoiselle Kensington?” he asked, straightening his white gloves.

“No, thank you.” I fished a coin from my purse and handed it to him.

“Ring for anything you need,” he said, pausing near the door and pointing to a pulley. “We’ll be at your door within a minute or two.”

“Thank you.”

Anna shut the door behind him and turned to me. “It’s a grand hotel, is it not?”

“Truly.” Every time we checked into someplace new, I remembered being escorted from my beautiful room in Syon House in England to the servants’ quarters after the hosts learned of my scandalous parentage. Would I ever be free of that? It always made me glad to be staying in a paid room rather than relying on the kindness of distant relatives or acquaintances who might pass judgment on me and find me wanting.

I strode toward the windows and gazed at the whitecaps blowing across the water. It was sunny but quite breezy outside, no doubt to the delight of the many sailors upon the water. “Do you think Arthur was serious?” I asked, looking at Anna over my shoulder. “That we might be able to sail tomorrow?”

“No doubt,” she said, moving toward my valises. “Now let me see to your garden ensemble for tonight. And if tomorrow is to hold some sailing for you, you’ll need something ironed for that as well.”

“Thank you, Anna.”

She pulled a neatly folded pile of clothes from a valise, sorted through them, and selected a white linen blouse and a straight navy skirt. “What do you think? For tomorrow? I can fetch your white hat from the trunks.”

“Perfect.”

“And how about your light blue dress for tonight’s garden party? It’s so pretty with your eyes.”

“Again, that would be perfect.”

Someone knocked on the door, and Anna went to answer it. Outside, a bellman held a vase with a bounty of beautiful, long-stemmed red roses in a crystal vase. “Flowers for Miss Cora Kensington,” he said.

“You can set them there,” Anna said, gesturing toward a small, round mahogany table between two wing-backed chairs.

“Of course,” he said. Anna took care to tip him, and he exited, closing the door quietly behind him.

But my eyes ran across the gorgeous blossoms, a perfect ruby red. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” I asked her.

“No, miss,” Anna said, eyes round with awe. “There must be three dozen flowers in that vase!”

I spotted a small envelope in the midst of all the foliage and reached for it. I tore open the flap and slipped out the tiny card.
Look upon these flowers and think of me
, it read.
As I’ll be thinking of you.
I smiled. Had Will done something so extravagant as this? When funds were so short? I tapped my bottom lip with the edge of the card and then read it again.
How irresponsible and reckless of him…and romantic…

“Who sent them, miss?” Anna asked, pausing with my clothes over her arm.

“I don’t know,” I said. “There is no name.”

“But you have a guess,” she said with an impish smile.

“Indeed,” I returned dreamily. It was smart of him not to sign the card. If one of my sisters happened to come to my room and see it…

“Well, get a little rest in, and I’ll be back to see you into your gown and re-pin your hair.”

“Thank you, Anna.” I pulled off my gloves and unpinned my hat, setting both on a shelf in the armoire. Then I sat down on the edge of the bed, unlaced my boots, and lay down. I thought it wise—her suggestion I nap—but all I could do was stare at the roses again and again and think,
He loves me.

I hurried down the staircase, eager to join the others in the gardens, where they were gathering for the party. From snatches of conversation about me, I gathered that today had been the first of several days of racing, and tomorrow afternoon was to be a leisurely sail for which all of Geneva would turn out. I eagerly looked from face to face, looking for my travel party, but most of all, Will.

A group of several gentlemen turned to watch me pass by, but I paid them no attention. I only wanted to see William and thank him for his grand gift.
There they are. At least Lil and Nell and Vivian are here.
I tried to adopt a more subdued, demure expression once I made eye contact with Viv. The last thing she needed was my giddiness in the face of trying to figure out whether she was in love or not. “Good evening, ladies,” I said, drawing near. I didn’t miss the quick, wary glances Lil and Nell shot in Vivian’s direction.

Lil and Nell put on overly cheery grins, while Viv at least managed to smile in greeting. “Did you all get a little rest?” I said.

“Who could rest?” Lil said, bouncing on her toes, her ringlets bouncing with her. “I can’t wait to go sailing. Can you?”

“No,” I said. “I’m very excited about that. I’ve never been on a pleasure boat before. Have you?”

All three shook their heads. Sensing that this might be the only opening I might have, I took Vivian’s arm. “Might I have a word with you, Vivian?”

She paused and then nodded, and we stepped a few paces away from the girls. “Vivian, I’m so sorry that our conversation the other night seems to have led you into some trouble with Andrew. I never thought—”

“No,” she said, lifting a hand to her temple. “It is I who am sorry, taking it out on you. It’s all right, Cora. You simply asked me a question I was unprepared to answer. And it seems that Andrew was unprepared as well.”

I leaned closer to her. “You still care for him?”

She nodded quickly. “Of course.”

“But you are not certain you love him.”

She paused and then slowly shook her head. She looked up into my eyes, cocking her head. “We’ve always been together, really. From the time we were toddlers, our mothers always talked about us getting married someday.”

“And so it was simply…assumed?” I took her hands in mine. “Vivian, you must not feel entrapped. You are a beautiful woman of poise and class. Surely, this small separation will make Andrew examine his heart, and he’ll discover he loves you. And if he does not, he doesn’t deserve you!”

Vivian slipped her hands from mine and bit her lip. “It is not that simple, Cora. Father
wants
this.”

I considered her tone for a moment. It said that I couldn’t possibly understand. Because we were raised in such different circumstances? “Regardless, in a union of any sort—whether between farmers or the well-to-do—God ordains that it is love that binds us, does He not?”

“I am fond of Andrew.” There was a measure of defensiveness in her tone now. But I couldn’t keep from saying what I thought I must—what I thought no one else dared. Simply because the copper kings wanted it to be so…

“Vivian, I understand you are fond of him. But what of his quick temper?”

She frowned at me, and I could tangibly feel her slipping away. “Many men have quick tempers. A lady simply learns to manage it. I think it rather attractive, actually. He’s so
powerful
.” She looked over my shoulder and scanned the crowd. I followed her glance and saw Hugh and Andrew approaching.