And this was all before Aunt Kate had saved Dacia from a scandalous adventure with Lord Johnny, which made Lou blush to think about even now. Dacia gaily referred to it as the Incident in London, but Lou had no idea how her cousin could be so cavalier about it.
Furthermore, Lou was amazed that she had recognized him at all, since in person he was so much nicer, with a bright smile and twinkling blue eyes that made him look even more boyish. She could see why Dacia found him so irresistible.
She was also certain that he was the young man she’d seen at the Louvre just before leaving Paris. So strange that the society pages hadn’t uncovered his whereabouts. According to the last clipping from London that Lou had received, Lord Johnny was hiding from his debts at his family estate in Suffolk.
“You have met my cousin,” Lou said to the young lord tentatively. “Miss Dacia Vreeholt of New York.”
Lord Johnny’s entire face lit up. If Lou had thought him handsome before, if in a mischievous way, it was nothing to how he looked at the mention of her cousin’s name. He even sat up straighter, and dazzled her with his smile.
“Dacia is your cousin? Marvelous! Is she here?” He peered out into the corridor.
“No,” Lou said, and was a bit disappointed. She rather wished that someday a young man might light up like that at the mention of her name. Dacia had young men falling at her feet no matter where she went. “But I’m on my way to meet her,” she admitted. “In Romania. Bucharest.”
“Why are you going there?”
Now Lord Johnny was on the edge of his seat, his spine ramrod straight, but the glow was gone, along with the smile. His blue eyes searched her face, and he moved a shock of brown hair off his forehead with an impatient hand.
“Are you traveling alone?” he asked, but then answered himself. “No! Surely not! And Dacia? She’s already there? Who is with her?”
“I’m with my parents,” Lou said, taken aback by his reaction. “And my brothers. They are at the other end of the car, in our compartment. Dacia is at one of our family’s houses. With our aunt Kate. We own a lot of houses . . . our mothers are Romanian.”
She was babbling, she knew, and it was obvious that she was edging toward the door of the compartment, but he really was alarming her now. Also, it had occurred to her that she herself didn’t know this young man, who had nearly been sent to jail this very year for his crimes. Even worse: he had enticed Dacia to . . . to . . . well to nearly disgrace herself! Lou moved back to the door of the compartment.
“You’re Romanian? I didn’t know that.” He screwed up his face, thinking. “Then I think you’ll be all right. Romania can be dangerous, though, if you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sure your mother’s family will look out for you.”
Ignoring that, Lou asked him a question. “What are you doing here?” She had one hand on the door, but his last sentence caught her attention, and she looked at him with one of her best Aunt Kate expressions. “I mean, why are you on this train?”
“I have business in Bucharest,” he said stiffly.
“Well, good luck to you,” she said, wishing her voice wasn’t coming out so shrill. “Good day, my lord.” And she beat a hasty retreat back to her family’s compartment.
“LouLou? Are you all right?”
Her father woke up as she slipped in between the sliding mahogany doors. He startled her and she jumped and let out a little scream.
“Oh, goodness! Yes, I’m fine!” She clutched at the lacy fichu at her throat. “I just wanted some air.”
Maria sniffed, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Then why did you go to the smoking car?” she demanded. Her sense of smell was almost as keen as Aunt Kate’s, as Lou and Dacia had discovered the time they had tried to smoke cigarettes with the coachman behind the stable.
“Having a cigar with the gentlemen, were we?” Her father winked at her.
“I thought perhaps it was just an empty car,” she said, trying to sound dignified.
“Well, it isn’t, and now you smell like some dreadful gentleman’s club,” her mother complained. “Open a window, someone. I can’t stand the reek.”
Lou subsided into her seat, chastened. Why did such things always happen to her? If she wasn’t accosted by strange men, then she was wandering into the wrong train car and . . . being accosted by strange men again! She sighed and rubbed at her skirt, hoping that the smell wouldn’t stay in the silk permanently.
“Who is that strange man?”
Lou glanced up at her mother’s shriek, and let out a small screech of her own. That Awful Man was standing in the passageway, peering into their compartment! She thought she might really have an attack of some sort now, and could only gasp for air. Lord Johnny appeared beside him, and Lou wondered for a fevered moment if she was simply hallucinating all the beaux she didn’t have. Lord Johnny spoke to That Awful Man, and then they both went on down the passage toward the young lord’s compartment.
“LouLou, are you all right?” Her father knelt in front of her, grabbing her hands. “Just breathe, darling, you’re turning quite pale!”
Lou did her best to relax and breathe, but then the twins woke up and demanded something to eat. Maria shouted at them to be silent because she had just had a shock: a strange man had ogled her, and then Adam wanted to know what ogled meant. But Lou’s father stayed at her side, talking in a soothing voice that she could barely hear above the din, until she was able to catch her breath again.
“I’ll be all right,” she assured him after a little while.
“Did you know that man? The first one?” Her father pressed her hands.
“N-no,” she stammered. “He just startled me.” She felt her stomach churn at the lie. “But the younger man was Lord John Harcastle,” she admitted. “Dacia’s Lord Johnny, you know, from London.”
“I see,” her father said, looking as if this explained a great deal.
“That horrid boy!” Her mother was even more hysterical now. “Don’t ever say his name again! To think what we might have lost if Dacia had . . . if they had . . . I can’t even say it!”
“Eloped?” Lou’s father suggested.
“Don’t say it!” her mother screamed.
“What does eloped mean?” David wanted to know. Adam giggled and elbowed his twin in the ribs.
“Never you mind,” their father said.
“But they didn’t, not really, Dacia thought he . . .” Lou trailed off. Not even her father was listening to her, and she didn’t really understand what Dacia had been doing.
The conductor arrived to see what all the screaming was about, and offered Mrs. Neulander wine and smelling salts, both of which she happily accepted. She was less happy that the conductor was unwilling to throw the men who had peeped at her off the train, when he learned that one of them was an English lord.
Lou leaned her face against the cool windowpane, and wished that meeting Lord Johnny had helped her make sense of what was happening with her family. She was just as baffled and frightened as she had been before . . . no, more so. And the train still had more mountains to cross, and more borders, before she reached Bucharest.
Lou could not wait until they arrived in Bucharest and she was reunited with Dacia. Dacia always seemed to have the answers, and if she didn’t, she would figure out how to get them.
THE DIARY OF MISS DACIA VREEHOLT
22 May 1897
I wish that you could somehow help me. I do not know where to turn. There is something very wrong among my mother’s family. They are full of secrets, secrets they guard so closely that Radu fears for his life if he tells me. He seems very convinced of this fact: that his life is forfeit if he disobeys that horrible creature that I have the misfortune to be connected to, that awful woman whom fate has cursed me with as a grandmother. Lady Ioana frightens me almost as much as she frightens Radu, and though I find it hard to believe that even she is odious enough to have her own grandson killed, there is still a coldness in her eyes that makes me shudder whenever
I see her.
I long for Lou to join me here, and yet I am frightened for her. What will she make of this situation? How soon can we free ourselves of it? My uncle Cyrus will surely not allow us to be bullied and mistreated by Lady Ioana. Perhaps I can appeal to him to take us straight back to New York. They arrive soon from Paris. I will speak to Lou and Uncle Cyrus as soon as I may, and sound out their feelings. I am not sure I will last another week, let alone months!
I have written to Mother, but it is laughable to think that she would offer consolation, or go against her mother’s wishes to tell me the answer to any of my questions. Indeed, she has not answered a single one of my letters since I fell into disgrace in England. Papa writes regularly, but only of general matters: his and Mother’s well-being, social events, etc. Besides which, he has never been to Romania, and has never met Lady Ioana.
Will Aunt Maria be of help when she arrives? Who can say? Now that I see Aunt Kate giving in before Lady Ioana, I doubt Aunt Maria will oppose the old woman, either.
Precisely why I am glad that my mother’s indisposition kept her at home. Imagine if my own mother were to turn against me!
On second thought, the difference would be imperceptible . . .
STRADA SILVESTRU
The moment Lou descended from the carriage, Dacia flung herself into her cousin’s arms. She was a bit startled at her own vehemence, but just couldn’t check her emotion or her flight. It was fortunate that her uncle was right behind Lou, and could catch them both before they crashed to the pavement.
“Oh, Lou!” Dacia caught herself before her words became a sob. “I’m so glad you’re here at last!”
Lou muttered something into the lace of Dacia’s bodice, and when Dacia stepped back, she realized that Lou had not been able to restrain tears of her own. That prompted more embraces, and Dacia and Lou both sniffled and smiled at each other with watery eyes, while Lou’s father handed down her mother and then the twins.
“Dacia, it’s been simply awful,” Lou said in a low voice, shooting a glance at her parents.
“You, too?” Dacia slumped. Poor Lou! She’d been hoping that at least one of them was enjoying herself. She knew about That Awful Man, of course, but had hoped that things were going better for her cousin. “Come upstairs at once; we’ll talk.” She leveled a terrible look at the twins. “And if we’re interrupted, I will have the two of you exiled to Turkey, see if I don’t!”
They gazed back in the utmost innocence, and Dacia snorted. She put her arm through Lou’s and led her up the stairs into the mansion, where Aunt Kate was waiting. Dacia tried to lead Lou past their aunt, but Kate raised one eyebrow and Dacia wilted. The battle of wills with her aunt was becoming increasingly beyond her energy. Though she hated to admit it, Lady Ioana had taken much of the wind out of her sails.
“Aunt Kate, so good to see you,” Lou said, and let go of Dacia’s arm to hug and kiss their aunt.
Aunt Kate looked like she was going to say something more, but then Lou’s parents entered with the twins. In the ensuing babble, Dacia led Lou upstairs. Dacia, seeing Lou’s pallor and remembering how grimy she’d felt when she arrived, went past her own room to the adjacent one, which was to be Lou’s. Her cousin looked around briefly, set her reticule and hat on the dresser, and then collapsed into a chair.
“I can’t speak of it all just now,” Lou said. “You had better go first. What has happened since your last letter?”
“It’s been awful,” Dacia blurted out. “I feel like I’ve been put in prison, and all because a young man likes me!” She leaped to her feet and paced back and forth. “All Prince Mihai wants to do is take me to the opera one night. But Aunt Kate is acting very strange, and so is Uncle Horia, and you are going to be appalled when you meet Lady Ioana!”
“Who is Lady Ioana?” Lou asked, looking even paler.
“The most unnatural grandmother the world has ever known,” Dacia said.
“You mean Grandmother Florescu?” Lou’s brow puckered in anxiety.
“Whatever you do, don’t call her Grandmother Florescu,” Dacia said in a dark voice. “No one warned me, which is beyond rude, but it seems that everyone calls her Lady Ioana, even Aunt Kate—her own daughter! And everyone is terrified of her. Even Aunt Kate! Especially Aunt Kate!”
Lou looked shocked, and Dacia made a face. She hadn’t meant to terrify her cousin the moment she arrived, but Dacia sensed that it couldn’t be helped. Lou was so much more sensitive than Dacia was, and it would do Lou no favors to have her run afoul of Lady Ioana, who was expected for dinner. Dacia looked carefully at Lou’s face, to make sure she was ready for the next bit of news. She saw the puckering of her cousin’s forehead: a sure sign that Lou was upset. Dacia drew in as deep a breath as her corset would allow. She knew that what she was going to say next would make Lou upset for certain.
“Let me tell you about meeting Lady Ioana,” she began, proceeding to tell Lou about her less-than-fortunate introduction to their grandmother, followed by Lady Ioana’s strange words.
“The Wing? She said that she was the Wing?” Lou’s pallor had gone waxy, and her voice hardly a whisper. “She said that I was the Wing?” Her dry lips barely made any sound at all on this last question.
Dacia knelt in front of her cousin and took her hands. “Yes. And that I was the Claw,” she said softly. “But I don’t know what it means any more than you do. I tried to ask Radu, but he said that Lady Ioana would kill him if he told me before she gave her permission. And Lou, he really meant it. There’s something going on here, only I don’t know what. Everyone’s acting like there’s a reason for us to come here, beyond just meeting our cousins.
“The worst part is they make it sound like we’re never leaving.”
A soft knock came at the door, which made them both jump, but it was only a footman with Lou’s luggage. Dacia remained at Lou’s feet, both of them frozen in a strange tableau as he brought in her things, trying hard not to gape at them.
“I met your Lord Johnny, Lord John Harcastle that is, on the train,” Lou said, changing the subject after the footman had gone. She opened the lid of her trunk and began to remove an array of beautiful new gowns.
Dacia felt a warm flush start up her neck and cheeks. “He’s not my Lord Johnny,” she said, but couldn’t keep a faint smile at bay. “What did he say?”
“He—he was very kind,” Lou said. “I accidentally wandered into the smoking car, and he offered to let me sit in his compartment for a while and catch my breath.”
“Why was he on the Express?” Dacia found that now she was smiling, she couldn’t stop, thinking of Lord Johnny. “Did he say? Did he mention me?”
“Of course,” Lou told her, laying out her new gowns. Dacia gasped appreciatively at the pale pink satin evening gown. “Well, I brought you up first, because I recognized him from the clippings you had sent me. But he appeared to be very excited to talk about you.”
“Did he say where he was going? Istanbul? Or somewhere even more exotic?” Dacia held a blue gown to her shoulders and looked at herself in the long mirror, trying to be nonchalant.
Lou was looking at her with raised eyebrows and a faint smile. Despite being totally guileless herself, she was exceptionally good at reading Dacia. “Bucharest,” she said.
“What?” Dacia dropped the gown, then scrambled to pick it up, face burning. “Here? Does he know I’m—Did he say why he’s—He’s in Bucharest right now?”
Lou laughed her bubbly little laugh, which Dacia had tried to tell her over and over again made every man in the room look at her. Lou just never would believe that any man was paying her notice, which was probably a good thing, since it made her less self-conscious and freer with her smiles and laughter.
“He said that he had business, and he did seem startled that you were here,” Lou told her. “But he was blushing almost as badly as you are.” Another little laugh.
“Oh, really?” Dacia laid the gown on the bed, trying not to twitter like one of
those silly girls who suddenly acts like a flitting, brainless sparrow whenever a young man is in the room. Or even mentioned. “That’s . . . nice.”
Lou shook her head. “Ah, Dacia, you’re going to get into trouble. I’ve heard about your other suitor as well. Mama has been fussing over it since she got Aunt Kate’s telegram. We have trunks of new gowns for you as well.”
Dacia goggled. “Your mother . . . she wants me to keep company with Prince Mihai?”
“From the sound of things, yes,” Lou said, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t she? He’s Romanian, and a prince!”
“Uncle Horia is firmly against it,” Dacia said. “That’s why they were fighting when Radu and I listened in and were caught by Lady Ioana. Lady Ioana is supportive, but that makes me highly suspicious. I feel like I’m being ‘handled,’ you know?” Dacia picked the gown up again, then hung it in the wardrobe before her nervous fingers plucked off all the ornaments.
“And then there’s the fact that Lady Ioana and even Aunt Kate act as though an invitation to the opera is a proposal of marriage, which I must accept!”
“But he’s some kind of royalty,” Lou said, her eyes wide. “They always take their connections very seriously. For him, it might be as good as proposing.”
“Oh, hardly!” Dacia threw up her hands. “I mean, to say he’s a prince sounds thrilling, but it’s one of those older titles that are traditional, not political. He’s no relation to the king, you know. It’s like the Russians, who have princes simply everywhere.”
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