by Beth Byers
“Quick, hide.” Hettie grabbed Ro by the hand, lurched them off the bench, and drew them into a nearby corner where they could still see the commotion across the way.
“That’s your family! What are they doing here, Hettie?”
“I don’t know,” Hettie hissed, sliding behind a pillar and ignoring the cart with their luggage. “Why would they be here?”
“They must be going somewhere. You don’t think—”
“No. It isn’t possible.” Hettie rubbed her brow. There was a creeping sense of unease running down her back. “Tell me they aren’t going to Prince Edward Island.”
“You tell me!” Ro hissed back.
They peeked around the same post, heads one above the other.
“I know they’re your family, but they’re a miserable family. They’ll ruin everything.” Ro sounded pouty.
Hettie didn’t have the capacity to comment on it. She was too busy having a heart attack. “They’d better not be coming. I’ll simply refuse to go. We’ll take that ship to Cuba instead. Maybe they’ve been sent here to give me an ulcer or to send me to the asylum—or possibly an early grave. I am telling you, Ro, anywhere on the North American continent is too close to the reach of my family. I might go mad if we are here much longer.”
“I might join you.” Ro stepped behind the column. “They’re probably going to a holiday party elsewhere. Perhaps a house party. Why would anyone go to Prince Edward Island over the holidays if they aren’t us?”
“Wouldn’t we have heard about that?” Hettie shook her head. “Maybe we should cancel.”
Ro’s tone was dripping with sarcasm. Hettie almost laughed out loud. Almost. Of course they weren’t going to cancel and of course Hettie wasn’t going to go mad. It was like Ro to pretend to go along with Hettie’s dramatic statements and force Hettie to return to her rational mind.
Hettie chewed her lip. “Wait a minute. Perhaps I panicked too soon.” She used her most collected tone of voice. “Maybe they’ve arrived here from another destination and are going home. An evening adventure we didn’t hear of since we left dinner so early. That must be it. Please let that be it. Ro, you shouldn’t be so quick to panic.” Hettie crossed her fingers and tried to control her breathing.
Ro rolled her eyes. “You’re right. I’ll try to stay calmer in the future.”
Amy’s voice climbed to a volume that made her audible across the station and Hettie braced herself for what was coming.
“Where are they?”
“Oh heavens,” Hettie groaned. “They could easily be going to the island. Why?”
Her sister had always been petulant, never backing down in argument, and even the tantrum-throwing child stopped to stare at her tone of voice. Hettie nudged Ro and pointed the child out.
“They’re devils,” Hettie muttered. “Cuba?”
“Mr. Cavanaugh.” Amy rounded on him after another frustrated look for Hettie and Ro. “You’ll be sorry for this if my father discovers what you have been up to.” Both Hettie and Ro looked up in surprise and they eyed each other. “He’ll ruin you as easily as he cracks his egg in the morning.”
“Maybe we should go on the train,” Ro said. “Aren’t you interested?”
Amy’s flaccid husband stood across from his wife, flinching as she hissed low and cold. Humphrey, Janet, Cecil—none of them were interested in what Amy was saying. Cavanaugh was the only one who reacted. He sputtered at Amy’s threat and sudden volume. He leaned in and motioned for her to be quieter while doing a quick scan with his nervous gaze to see who was close enough to overhear. It didn’t take long for him to see that the entire occupancy of the station was privy to their heated disagreement. He spoke sternly to Amy, but what he said wasn’t audible.
“I wish I could hear him,” Ro said and Hettie nodded in agreement.
Cavanaugh finished speaking and gripped her forearm. Through gritted teeth and in the same high volume she’d been using before, she said, “No, I will not lower my voice.”
“What do you think the business is?” Hettie asked Ro.
“This business between you and Cecil is ruining everything.” Amy jerked her arm away. “I took a great risk, but you have much more to lose than I do. Fix this, Jonas.”
As she finished the last bit of her rant, her wide eyes locked onto Hettie’s. Hettie lifted a brow. The two sisters exchanged a meaningful glance. Everyone else in the station blurred into the background of Hettie’s vision and she saw only Amy. Hettie noticed that her sister’s eyes went from surprise to smug to fear in less than a moment. Amy was the first to look away, but it was too late. Amy had let something slip that she shouldn’t have and now she was afraid.
Chapter 6
Hettie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. What now? Ro nudged her with her elbow.
“What’s got you so upset, Hettie? You’re practically frozen in place and you are three shades paler than usual.”
“Silent sister communication. It’s hard after so much time.”
“We communicate silently,” Ro said, glancing between the two sisters.
“Yes. But that’s natural.”
Hettie pointed at Cavanaugh, who’d returned to a casual posture and appeared to be having a run-of-the-mill conversation with Amy now. They still ignored the others in their party who had trailed more slowly after the pair.
“Who is she arguing with?”
“That is my father’s business partner, Jonas Cavanaugh. He also happens to be Cecil’s uncle. My sister just announced to the entire crowd that there’s an issue between him and Cecil that will cause a problem with my father.”
“Uh-oh,” Ro said. With a bit of a squeak, she asked, “Cuba?”
Hettie shook her head. “Among these people, if anyone is on the wrong side of my father, it could ruin that person. Word will spread like wildfire and when my father’s friends discover that Cavanaugh is at odds with my father, it will create endless problems for Cavanaugh.”
“So your sister’s threats…”
“As loud as they were? She was toying with him.”
“She’s diabolical,” Ro muttered.
“The only way that damage can be undone is a very public display of alliance between my father and Cavanaugh. Which won’t happen if he doesn’t do whatever my sister is blackmailing him to do. She must have information on Jonas that gives her power—or at least she thinks it gives her power. But—that’s not the most important thing that happened. My dear sister’s eyes spoke more than she would have voiced and she won’t be able to take it back.”
Ro looked skeptical. “With the sister communication? The painful silent one?”
“Mmm,” Hettie sighed. “She’s involved in trouble. It’s a look I’ve seen a hundred times. The look she’d wear when she’d got caught taking the last biscuit or when I caught her sneaking out to kiss a boy and she begged me not to tell.”
Ro snorted. “You were the good one!”
“Was. My sister looks guilty and I’m certain it involves Cecil, my father, and Jonas Cavanaugh. And probably with me.” Hettie felt her eyes narrow. Her sister’s ‘cat that caught the canary’ expression. Hettie would recognize it anywhere. “I can’t let it go.”
“You shouldn’t. Not unless you want to say goodbye to London and not tell them where you’re going, and I saw your face when you hugged your mother again. You might be irritated with her, but you love her.”
“Of course I do. Nothing good will come from letting Amy run wild. To put it succinctly, my dear Ro, my life is certain to become infinitely more taxing in the very near future.”
“Sounds exciting,” Ro shot back. “We’ll need to focus on the hot air balloon and certainly find ourselves a rowboat—without holes—and dream of whoever Anne was dreaming of when she sank.”
“I want to see the sea where Anne lived with Gilbert when they were married,” Hettie answered seriously. “I want to walk the cliffs and pretend there is a Gilbert and he loves me.”
Ro gasped.
“I should have known it was Gilbert who makes you believe in love.”
Hettie shot Ro a wide grin. “Of course it’s Gilbert. Him, Knightly, Darcy, oh there are dozens.”
“They’ve walked away now,” Ro said, nudging Hettie to turn back around. “Maybe whatever is going on has nothing to do with us.”
Hettie considered that expression on her sister’s face and hoped it was true. Even if Hettie had to deal with Amy’s mischief later, first Hettie and Ro could have their sleigh ride.
They walked arm-in-arm towards the train. “We could always go directly from the island to the port,” Ro suggested. “There’s nothing at your parents’ house that we can’t leave behind.”
Hettie gasped. The pink diamonds were at the mansion. “You aren’t serious about abandoning all of our things, are you? The diamond choker. I didn’t bring it. I can’t. I won’t abandon it.”
“You earned that necklace,” Ro agreed. She let the conductor hand her into the train. “We won’t leave Montreal without them.”
Hettie risked a look over her shoulder and saw that her family was nowhere in sight. Relief replaced the lingering anger and she took a deep breath.
“You’re right, of course. We’ll take our trip, enjoy every minute of it, then we’ll drop by Mother’s, collect our things like adults, and then flee the country as quickly as possible. Perhaps in the nighttime. If necessary. As adults.”
“Independent women,” Ro added. “Nothing like wayward children sneaking off with diamonds in the night.”
“Nothing,” Hettie said.
They handed their tickets over and were led to their compartment. Each side had a bench that turned into a bed. There was a small mirror by the door and a table that folded and unfolded at their convenience. The boy placed their bags overhead, ensured they’d had what they needed, and returned to lead another first class passenger to their compartment.
“Yes, bosom friend,” Ro said as she looked around the cabin. “I think this will do.”
The adventure to pay tribute to Anne of Green Gables, their favorite fictional character, was saved. Hettie’s family appeared to have left on another trip, and their plans for after were set. If Mother and Father behaved, they would stay. If they pressured Hettie again about Cecil, they’d flee, diamonds in hand. In the night, if necessary.
There was a knock on their compartment door when it was time for luncheon and Ro answered it, chatting with the conductor who came to announce the luncheon service. She turned and winked at Hettie. “It looks fancy out there. Mr. Ribsy, he’s the conductor, is wearing gold braids on his uniform. Anne would be giddy.”
“Diana too,” Hettie said. She’d used a pillow and her fur coat to take a nap, and she sat up slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. “That isn’t so comfortable really.”
Ro’s lifted brow was as mocking as it should have been. Anyone who expected a feather mattress in a train compartment was spoiled indeed.
Hettie splashed water on her face from the basin at hand, ran a comb through her hair, and fluffed her skirt. She was a bit rumpled, but it would have to do for luncheon on a train. Ro had read while Hettie slept and had only to freshen her lipstick before she was prepared to be seen.
Before they left, Hettie crossed to the window and glanced out. Ro joined her. The snow was coming down thick and fast, making it impossible to see beyond the tracks.
“When I was a child,” Hettie said unexpectedly, her voice far away, “we took a holiday. There had been a sleigh ride, complete with jingle bells, and large sturdy horses who moved through the snow as though they were made from it.” Her smile was distant and then she shook it off. “We should go. I’m starving.”
The midday meal looked to be quite an affair—a bit pretentious, even, perhaps to make up for the lack of feather beds. Tables overflowed with finer food than a train should be able to provide, and as she and Hettie entered the dining car, Ro found herself wondering if they had a full kitchen for this Beef Wellington or only a way to keep it warm. It looked perfectly rare and was served alongside roasted vegetables and what she hoped was a lovely white wine.
“Beef Wellington for luncheon on a train,” Hettie said, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous.”
It looked to Ro as though there was a near constant stream of wine with glasses being refilled before they were emptied. As she followed Hettie to find their assigned table in the first class dining car, she wondered idly how the second class dining car differed from her experience. She bumped into Hettie, who had stopped abruptly in the aisle.
Ro whispered, “What is it, Hettie?”
“We were wrong. They must have boarded.”
Ro shook her head frantically but expected the truth.
“It’s Cecil,” Hettie hissed, “and he’s sitting with my entire family save my parents. We can’t get to our table without passing theirs. Will you please have mercy on me and slaughter me now?”
“You were saying you felt like the fatted calf,” Ro told her without mercy. “The desire to be slaughtered seems appropriate.”
She grimaced as Hettie’s brother-in-law, Frederick, walked toward them. There was no way for them to escape. He’d seen them and practically knocked his seat over getting up to flag them down. But at least it wasn’t Cecil. “Hettie! My favorite sister.” He grinned between them.
“In-law,” Hettie added.
Frederick shot her a hurt look but pressed on cheerfully. “Glad we’ve finally found you. We’ve been waiting all day to surprise you.”
“Oh we’re surprised,” Ro told him. “To our very centers.”
“Wonderful!” His grin was so broad and so smarmy Ro wanted to elbow him hard. “We decided that we’d come with to your little outing to the island. Surprise!”
Hettie’s gaze narrowed on her sister, Amy. “You’ve been gone so long,” Amy said idly. “How could we pass up a chance to be with you when you’re this close?”
“Exactly,” Frederick said, pulling them towards the table. None of the men stood courteously as they approached, not even Cecil. “Amy insisted that we come along, although she does loathe those books—what are they called again? Alice of the Blue Barn—such a funny name—but I suppose they’re nonsense.”
“Mmm,” Ro murmured to hold back her hiss of fury.
Hettie pasted a fake surprise smile. “Did Amy? She insisted?” Hettie met Amy’s gaze with raised eyebrows, and the looks they shot each other were disbelieving and a bit resentful. “How interesting.”
They were surrounded by interlopers. What a disaster the entire trip to Canada was turning out to be. This wasn’t what Ro had expected, but it probably should have been, given what Hettie had told her about her family.
“She did,” Frederick continued eagerly, completely missing the sarcasm in Hettie’s voice.
“I see our table. Perhaps we’ll be able to connect later. Wonderful to see you, Frederick. Everyone.”
Ro winced at Hettie’s words. Amy was in danger if Hettie’s sickly sweet tone was any indication of her sister’s fate. Ro put her hand on Hettie’s shoulder to offer a restraining hand or moral support—whichever option Hettie needed.
“Oh, nonsense.” He looked past Hettie, seeing Ro for the first time. “Hello, Miss Lavender. Lovely to see you again.” Then he looked back at Hettie. “We asked to have your table assignment changed so we could all be together.”
“Mmm, no,” Hettie said.
“Of course you must.”
“No,” Hettie repeated.
“It’s why we’re here,” Amy added with a dark look. The sisters were shooting each other full essays in their expressions, and they were dark commentaries indeed. “Cecil insisted that you join us. It’s the least you can do.”
Hettie and Ro both eyed Cecil, who was looking uncertain but determined.
“The least I can do?” Hettie asked silkily. Ro was impressed how easily Hettie steeled her spine and faced off with the entire table. Humphrey and Janet watched with interest, but G
ladys’s husband was eyeing a young woman a few tables away.
“Perhaps we should,” Ro said. “We could learn about what lies ahead.” She didn’t mean the island.
“Of course,” Jonas Cavanaugh said. “Been this way once before. Wasn’t about nonsensical books, but I suppose I know enough.”
Neither Hettie nor Ro acknowledged him. Instead they eyed each other, silently debating.
“How nice it will be for us to be together,” Frederick urged.
“I’m sure. Aren’t you all just so entirely thoughtful?” Hettie looked helplessly at Ro, irritated for them both. She sighed loudly. “Ro, aren’t they so thoughtful?” Ro didn’t miss the sarcasm, but some of the others were entirely unaware.
“So thoughtful,” Ro mocked. “Perhaps your sister can tell us about the earlier conversation we witnessed.”
They allowed Frederick to seat them at the table.
Ro finally noticed Cecil’s sister, Gladys, was also seated at the table next to the only two empty chairs, with Cecil on the other side, so of course Frederick seated Hettie and Ro there. This was going from bad to worse, but there was no real way to get out of this now—not and prevent a scene. Ro wasn’t above creating scenes, but as this was Hettie’s family, she’d follow her friend’s lead.
Everyone was remarkably well-behaved, and Ro thought that perhaps they’d dodged the proverbial bullet when dessert came around without any trouble. Though the lack of any dramatic scene made her as nervous as having one.
Hettie had put a heaping fork full of cheesecake in her mouth when Cecil stood up, turning to face her. Her eyes widened when Cecil turned her chair around and pulled her into a standing position.
“Hettie,” Cecil said, taking her hand firmly in his. “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”
“By heaven, don’t!” Hettie glared at him.
“Hettie!” Amy scolded, but Hettie ignored her sister.
