Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) (6 page)

Plus, I simply wanted to prove it to myself. That I could do it, regardless of Will’s views that it wasn’t an exercise for the “fairer sex.” I wouldn’t halt where Lillian had. I’d practice on my own tonight, under cover of darkness. Would they not be surprised, come morning, when I made my leap with confidence? I’d step into the air and remember to breathe on the way down so that I could hold my breath until I broke the surface again and—

“Penny for your thoughts,” Will said, sitting down on the wall as I stood gazing at the river. He sipped at his champagne, his eyes shifting over the others, then sidling back up to me.

“Oh,” I said, wondering if I dared to tell him. Would he try to stop me? “I was just considering putting on my bathing costume and joining you gents come morn for a leap into the Rhône.”

He studied me with slightly narrowed eyes, as if he knew I wasn’t telling him the exact truth, but then he turned and looked over the edge. “It’s a big jump. Are you not scared?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Every time,” he said with a conspiratorial grin. “But that’s part of the thrill.”

I peered over the edge with him, watching as the river swirled here and there in minor eddies and a leaf-laden branch drifted by. “Is it cold?”

“Not as cold as the lake. Not as warm as the sea.”

“And is it deep? There are no rocks to watch out for?”

“If you can get several feet out, it plunges straight down a good thirty feet. I’ve never seen or touched bottom.” He eyed me. “Maybe it’s best you skip it. Or if it’s a swim you crave, simply walk down the stairs, through the gates. It’s far more ladylike.”

“Maybe,” I said lightly. “Though I’m still more farm girl than a lady.” It chafed, the idea that we couldn’t do as the men had without being censured, judged. I took a sip of champagne. “Will, what do you think of women having the vote?”

His eyebrows lifted. “What? Where did that come from?”

“Where has it not come from?” I returned. “It’s a part of conversation, in newspapers, everywhere. Just today, Vivian and Lil were talking about it.”

He studied the river a moment, apparently gathering his thoughts. “I think women should have a say,” he said carefully. “And giving them a vote is a fair and prudent call. That said, women need to put their heads to understanding the issues before they cast a vote.”

“As should men,” I said.

“Agreed. Far too many don’t. They vote by party alone, never really paying attention to what a change might do. They get swayed by a speech, a man’s charisma, rather than forming their own opinion.”

I nodded, wondering if Will had ever been swayed on any front. I admired that about him, his fortitude. He was steady, like a boulder in the river—the water went by, but it was never pulled under.

“Would you vote, Cora, if given the opportunity?”

“Of course. I’d imagine we women would appreciate the opportunity more than men. It’s like me being here on the tour.” I glanced over my shoulder at my traveling companions. “They enjoy it. But how many other journeys have they been on? This is one of many, I’d wager. I’ve never been anywhere other than Normal School.”

“And that mitigates some of their appreciation?”

I shrugged a little. “I can’t know for sure. But that’s what I’d guess.”

He lifted his chin, and I studied his profile as his eyes scanned the castle and woods of the far side of the river. Then his eyes shifted to mine. I forced myself not to look away, allowing him to know I’d been watching him. “You and I are in agreement,” he said softly. “We appreciate the things we have to fight for.”

A chill ran down my back. He did not look away. What was he saying? Why did I get the idea that he spoke of fighting for
me
?

“What’re you two conspiring over?” Felix said, edging near with Arthur in tow. We both looked to them with some relief.

“Your sister believes she’s ready to vote. And leap into the Rhône.”

“What? A suffragette diver among us?” Felix said in wonder, smiling at me. “Perhaps you’re more a Kensington than I imagined. Though heaven knows I can’t convince Lil to make the jump now that she’s stared down the executioner’s blade. And Vivian believes it to be the last thing you women should be doing.”

“Maybe the Diehls are more hearty stock than the Kensingtons,” I whispered to him.

He hooted and ducked his head. “Don’t let the girls hear you say that.”

“I won’t.” I smiled. I saw that Arthur’s eyes darted from my brother to me and back again. Had he overheard my whisper? I knew I was blushing, and I turned to study the river again, sipping from my glass of champagne.

“If you jumped with me tomorrow, they might follow,” Felix said.

“Maybe. It’s a far piece,” I allowed, gesturing toward the water. “Best for everyone to make their own decisions and not feel undue pressure.”

“Agreed,” Will said. “But be advised that once the women get involved, Uncle will likely put a stop to it. He was very relieved when Lillian turned back yesterday.”

“If everyone will simply refrain from getting killed, all will be well,” Felix said.

“Yes,” Will said with a smile. “It would be most helpful if everyone abided by that rule.”

I covered a pretend yawn. “Well, gentlemen, tomorrow is a new day. I believe I must turn in. After the long day and heat of the sun, I confess I’m most eager to return to my novel.”

“Are you reading Lawrence’s
Sons and Lovers
?” Hugh teased, enjoying my look of dismay.

“Pish,” Andrew said, coming alongside him, “that book is nothing but an Oedipal indulgence for the working classes.”

“That’s exactly what makes it so engaging,” Arthur said, perching on the chateau wall and bending to light a cigarette. He passed a box around, offering cigarettes to the others, and then lit Hugh’s as well, tossing the stub of his match over the edge, letting it fall to the river below. “I’d think you would find it uniquely engaging, given its mining backdrop.”

“You’d think wrong,” Andrew said.

“Perhaps you’d enjoy
Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man
,” Arthur said, eyeing me and blowing smoke slowly from the corner of his lips.

“Oh?” I said, throwing him a confused look. “Why would you say so?”

“It’s quite an engaging read. The main character is of mixed race. He must decide between embracing his Negro culture by engaging in ragtime music or passing as white and living a mediocre existence as a common man.” He took a steady drag on his cigarette, never releasing me from his gaze.

I stilled even as the men about me shifted uneasily. So…he knew. About my history. Had Pierre told Celine and Celine told him? Or Hugh? Felix, even? I straightened my shoulders. It mattered not. Right? I was through with hiding. I lifted my chin. “It does sound engaging,” I said, staring right back into his eyes. “I’ll have to find a copy the next time we’re in a bookshop.”

Will and Felix straightened and nodded in my direction, bidding me good night. I passed by the others, saying good night to each of them, as well as thanking our hosts. Yves followed me at a distance of ten feet, my silent guard. At first I’d believed he never slept, but over the last couple of days I learned that Claude relieved him on duty by the gate below at midnight.

In my suite, Anna helped me undress and put on a fresh nightgown, then she brushed out my hair. I lifted my hand, irritated to see it trembling. I thought it was past me—my desire to keep my parentage a secret. I thought I’d embraced who I was. Accepted it. I thought about my teasing words to Felix, about me being of sturdier stock than my half sisters. His drunken comment that I was a scrapper. Why was all that permissible, but a near stranger’s discovery of the truth enough to set me to trembling? “Lay out my bathing costume, will you, Anna? I wish to make the leap with the young gentlemen in the morning before we begin our day.”

“Ach,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re to be a part of that nonsense.”

I forced a smile and looked at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m most certainly going to be a part of that nonsense. Don’t you wish to give it a go yourself?”

“Not a’tall, miss. Never been one for more than a shallow bathtub full of water.”

“Do you know how to swim?”

She shook her head. “No call to learn, anyway,” she said, cutting off my next question.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” I winced as she hit a knot and dragged the horsehair brush through it.

“We mustn’t always pine after what we think we’re missing, miss,” she said, cocking a brow and nodding toward me. She set down the brush and then swiftly wound my hair in a long, thick braid. “Some things are just not ours to be had.”

“Or they
are
ours, if we simply reach out and take them.”

“Hmm,” she said, eyes on my hair.

“Are you afraid? Honestly?”

“Honestly, yes,” she said, tying the end of my braid with a tight knot of string. “Sometimes fear is something we must battle through. Other times it’s something the Lord gives us to warn us to take heed.” She left me then, going directly to my third trunk at the side of the room, and pulled out my bathing costume. She laid it on a sitting chair. I thought I saw her shaking her head a bit.

“Thank you, Anna.”

“Good night, miss.”

She closed the door behind her, as carefully as if I were already slumbering on and might be disturbed. Twilight still clung to the skies, and so I climbed into bed, taking my novel from the side table and turning up the flame on the lamp. But my eyes refused to focus on the words on the page. Again and again, my eyes went to the chair and my bathing costume and then the window.

I had to wait until dark. Under cover of darkness, by the light of the moon, I’d leap.

CHAPTER THREE

~William~

The men sat in a line of chairs, watching as a full moon rose over the horizon, smoking the last of their cigars. The women had long departed, and twilight had just given way to navy sky. The air was still warm but blessedly cooler than the heat of the day, and Will found himself looking forward to the morning’s plunge, just as surely as Cora was. Or perhaps she’d elect to take the more conservative route and wade from the shoreline.

A smile tugged at his lips. He knew enough about Cora Diehl Kensington to know that wasn’t possible. And what was that look about this evening? When he’d turned to find her bright blue eyes studying him, not looking away. It had made him itch to take her hand in his. Her delicate fingers…fingers that other men so easily handled, kissed in greeting, even. And yet he had no right.
No right. Get it through your skull, McCabe
,
he told himself.
It can’t be.
Had they been two normal people, not client and guide… But tonight, before the others joined them, when it had just been the two of them…

He shook his head and stared up into the stars above them, wondering if he might be slowly going mad as van Gogh had in this same countryside. He told himself it was all his imagination. But then he thought again of that moment together. Out from under Pierre de Richelieu’s watchful gaze, Cora had turned a few degrees in his direction. If he turned a few degrees too…

He rose and walked along the wall, looking below to the river, warm cream stripes of reflected light from the chateau dancing in it—from Cora’s suite below? He tried to drive away his traitorous, treacherous thoughts. After a while, the others said good night, and his uncle came to join him. Stuart took a deep draw on his cigar and then slowly blew the sweet smoke out. It drifted around Will and past him on the breeze. Stuart stamped out the stub of his cigar on the wall and casually let the remains fall to the river.

“I heard from Wallace Kensington today,” the old man said at last.

Will froze. So word had finally arrived. “And?”

“He applauds our clients’ fortitude and tenacity, as well as our astute choice to add more guardians to our traveling troop.”

Will dared to take a breath. “And?” he repeated.

“And he wants assurances that we left the kidnappers behind in Paris.”

Will considered that a moment. “There’s no way to know. You know as well as I that those two escaped.”

“Chances are that they’ve gone underground, though. Without the element of surprise—now that we know what lengths they’d go to—we won’t be caught unawares again. They’ll likely move on to easier targets.”

“You hope.” Will stamped out his cigar too and tossed it to the water, the taste no longer appealing to him.

“I hope.”

“Not many travelers on the road that could fetch the ransom that one of these would,” Will said, nodding over his shoulder at the chateau.

“Indeed. Are you saying you wish to take the safe road and return home? Forego our extra pay? Let alone our complete fee for the tour…”

Will studied the water, far below. “In my experience, the safe road rarely leads to growth, depth, edification.”

Uncle Stuart clapped him on the shoulder. “Sleep on it. Let’s talk, before breakfast, before we put it to the others and make sure they’re all game to carry on. Kensington and Morgan are en route. They plan to rendezvous with us in Vienna to make certain all is well before we venture into Italy.”

“Ahh.” So the fathers were willing to let the chicks stretch their wings, to a point. In Vienna, they would decide for themselves if the tour was to continue.

“Think about it, Will. What assurances can we offer them when it comes time? We have to prepare our argument.”

“Best to let the children persuade them. They’ve done all right so far.”

“Perhaps,” Stuart said, looking as weary as Will felt. He turned to go, his shoulders stooped and every step a clear effort.

“Sleep well, Uncle.”

“You’re not turning in?” he asked, looking at Will over his shoulder.

“Not yet. I think I should keep an eye out. Make sure that Felix and Hugh don’t get it in their heads that they should sneak out to that cabaret in town. I heard them mention it under their breath. If they do, I’ll wake Antonio and tag along.”

“If we’re down by you four, be certain you alert the guards.”

“I will. Good night.”

“Good night, Will.”