Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) (33 page)

“We should keep it from the younger girls,” Mr. Kensington said. “I don’t wish for them to lose sleep, nor for them to go about their days in fear.”

“Plus, they’d give the plan away,” Hugh said. “They’d never be able to pretend to be at peace if they thought the same men who tried to take them in Paris were back and bent on getting to them here.”

“Agreed,” Felix said.

It was the only way. To be free of the threat. Once and for all.

But as Will led them upstairs to the hall that would be guarded through the night, his heart pounded at the thought of that man daring to show his face to Cora. Watching her for how long? For what purpose?

Will hoped he’d be there when the man made his move. Because Will dearly wanted to show him what happened when he dared to mess with the woman he loved.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

~Cora~

I awakened wishing I had another five hours in my bed. I knew my sleep had been fitful through the night and had likely kept Anna awake. But I was so glad for her company. Had she not stayed with me, I doubted I’d have slept at all.

Anna had slipped away early, whispering that she was off to see to her own toilette and to fetch some breakfast for me, as well as a fresh gown. Word came with the breakfast tray that our tour was not to come to an abrupt end as I’d assumed. There was another plan in place.

After a meal of pastry, fruit, cheese, and the dark coffee Vienna was famous for—a remnant of the Turks who once tried to invade her—made more delectable with a dollop of fresh cream, I slipped into the ivory day suit that Anna had chosen for me, along with a big camel-colored hat tied with an ivory ribbon. I pulled my jacket straight and examined my reflection in the mirror, wishing I could wash away the dark circles under my eyes.

Resolving to excuse myself for a nap after our ball costumes were chosen, I went to the door and found William waiting outside, leaning against the far wall. He started when he saw me, and then in three strides was in front of me, reaching out to take my hands—then, obviously thinking better of it, folding his arms instead. I dropped my own hands awkwardly to my sides, glimpsing Antonio on one end of the hall and Yves on the other. Will’s gaze covered my face like a caress. “Cora, we’ll see this through. Together. Know that there will be many men keeping watch over you at every moment, both seen and unseen. We intend to draw out the men who wish to harm you and deal with them at once.”

“Draw them out,” I said, fussing with the finger of one glove that was slightly twisted. Had I heard him right?

“Once and for all. You cannot live life always looking over your shoulder—the Kensingtons and Morgans.”

I looked up at him, understanding him better now. “You want us to pretend as if we don’t know that we might be in danger. Make them come after us.”

His jaw clenched. “Yes. But I promise you, you will not be alone when they do.”

“
If
they do,” I corrected. “And until then, we’ll be stuck in this glass bowl. Never having the opportunity to be alone. To
talk
,” I said, giving him a meaningful look. There was so much I needed to tell him. So much I needed to talk through with him. But there was never an opportunity. And now there’d be even fewer chances.…

“Yes,” he said miserably. “Exactly. All the more reason to draw them out and have this done with, yes?”

I nodded, and he took my arm. “We do not intend to tell Lil and Nell,” he whispered as the others emerged in the foyer.

“Why?”

“We fear they would tip our hand.”

I understood their intention, even agreed with it, but keeping such a secret from the girls chafed at me. Vivian looked about as weary and dazed as I felt—with one glance, I knew Andrew had told her the plan—while Lillian and Nell were excited, chattering about the gowns they hoped to find at the costume shop. When Lillian looped her arm through mine as we walked down the stairs, asking me what was wrong, I told her I’d simply stayed up too late the night before. “Let’s find just the right gowns for the ball quickly,” I said, giving her hand a pat, “so that we can return for a good rest this afternoon.”

I saw that our fathers were in the foyer, along with Felix, Hugh, and Andrew. Vivian went to Andrew and took his hands, and he bent to give her a kiss on either cheek. Viv accepted his overture with grace—but with any joy? It was impossible to tell.

We all moved outdoors, loading into the motorcars. I was in the last one with Arthur, Felix, and Lillian. As we pulled out onto the main thoroughfare, I glanced over my shoulder through the small window to see if anyone was following us. There were other motorcars, of course, but were they those of additional guards or our assailants, or were they merely other Viennese? I’d go mad trying to figure it out.

The costume shops were in a poorer district, but Antonio had been right—the stores lined one side of the block and the other—and it was so clogged with traffic, we had to park several blocks away and return on foot. Men’s costumes and formal wear were in just a few shops and separated from the women’s—each with a strict rule of the opposite gender not entering the other—so Will and the other guardians had to be content with guarding both the front and back entrances as we girls moved from one shop to the next.

Vivian was the first to find her gown, a lovely mossy green that cinched up at her tiny waist and cascaded in enormous tiers. The bodice was low cut and swept from shoulder to shoulder in a wide arc, the sleeves tightly covering her arms. “It’s perfect,” I said, looking her over in appreciation. “It’s the exact green in your eyes!”

“It is,” Lillian agreed with a quick nod, already trying on her third gown, this one a deep yellow. She stepped up on the tailor’s bench, took a quick glance in the mirror, shook her blonde head, and then flounced off.

“But, Lil,” I said, “that’s pretty!”

“No! It’s not right!” she called over her shoulder.

Vivian met my gaze. “We’ll be here all morning. This is the girls’ idea of the most fun possible.”

I smiled and relaxed as I went back to rummaging through dress after dress on the rack that appeared to be close to my size. “I can’t blame them, really,” I said, pulling out a ruby red gown and then shoving it back, thinking I’d never have the courage to wear such a garish thing.

Vivian lifted a corner of a dusty-rose-colored gown from the other end, her skirts so wide over her hoops, they brushed against my legs. “This would be a pretty color on you.” She brought it all the way out, holding it in front of her, modeling it for me.

“It’s lovely,” I said. “But that neckline!”

“They’re all that low, Cora,” she said, lifting it to me. “Go on. Try it on.”

“If you think it might work,” I said. I stopped by the front desk, and a grumpy woman who spoke little English handed me a hoop skirt and corset, pointing me and one of her maids into a dressing room with all the finesse of a cowboy herding a cow into a corral. I supposed I couldn’t blame her, I thought, alone for a precious minute as I undressed. Dealing with uppity women all day, all bent on finding the perfect dress for a single ball, would be enough to drive anyone mad.

I stood there in nothing but my underthings, wondering how the maid would know when to come in, when she knocked on my narrow door. “Come in,” I said.

She slipped through the door, closed it, and then grabbed hold of the corset, wrapping it around my waist. With quick fingers, she pulled it back and forth, getting it settled on my figure, then immediately set to lacing it. Disgruntled with my movement, she sighed, took my hands, wrapped them around a post, put her hands on my shoulders, gave me a look in the eye that said
stay
, then returned to the lacing. She was ridiculously good at it, I thought with chagrin, waiting until I exhaled each time to tighten the next level of lacing. Then she bent, leaving the hoops in a cascading circle at my feet.

I stepped in, and she lifted the hoops, the smallest just fitting around my hips and above it, cinching a waist ribbon to secure it. She turned to the gown and threw the heavy silk over my head and outstretched arms, then pulled it down, keeping my back to the mirror as she fastened one tiny fabric-covered button after another behind me. When done, she straightened the tiny cap sleeves, which just barely covered my shoulders, and slowly turned me toward the mirror. I gasped and then covered my mouth, embarrassed by my vain reaction. But it was truly beautiful. A desert-rose color that made my skin look golden, healthy, and contrasted nicely with my eyes. The corset and bodice had done their job, giving my breasts a lift and my waist a cinch. The silk had a slight sheen to it, and the skirt was as wide as Vivian’s, with a dramatic waterfall effect of gathers all around.

I gestured toward the door, so I could show my sisters and Nell, and when I came out, the younger girls clapped excitedly while Vivian gave me a dignified, knowing smile. I was startled to recognize a bit of pride in her eyes, rather than her customary competition. “
You
fished it out of the pond,” I said in appreciation.

“No man will be able to keep his eyes off you, Cora,” Lil said, running her fingers over the beautiful silk.

“No, they won’t,” Nell said, her brown coils of hair bouncing as she shook her head. “You’re beautiful. Not that you need any more men noticing you, what with Monsieur de
Richelieu
doting upon you.”

I stepped up onto the tailor’s bench and looked in all four mirrors, thinking of four men looking upon me. Pierre. Will. My father. And the mysterious man who had tracked us here. To each, I’d appear slightly different, I thought, my eyes flicking from one glass pane to the next. A conquest to conquer. A love to be honored. A daughter to win over. A prize to collect.

Who would take my arm, in the end?
I thought distantly, feeling vaguely helpless. The thought of it made me want to run again, refuse them all. Take matters into my own hands.

I was my own woman. They could not make me what they wished.

I would allow what
I
wished.

Nell’s words rang in my head. Pierre was glorious—dramatic, handsome, perfectly attentive. But he was a fantasy. I was no Cinderella. I belonged in no castle. It was Will who held my heart. I turned to look out the front window and saw him outside standing guard, his broad shoulders daring anyone to try to get past him. He was real. True. Right. Able to walk beside me in this world as well as in
my
real world. He alone understood me. Where I came from and where I could go.

And being away from him was making me feverish. We had to find our own moment alone soon.…

I stepped down from the tailor’s bench and was walking back to the dressing room when I paused beside the matron at the front desk. She was reading a paper. I bent and peered at an article, catching the English words “Montana Copper” and “Dunnigan” in the first sentences.

She set it down and looked at me, her grumpiness fading with me in her gown.
“Schön, schön,”
she said, waving up and down at me, looking pleased.

“Oh!
Danke
,” I said, assuming she was saying something complementary, by her expression. I knew less German than I did French. “May I?” I asked, gesturing toward her paper.

She frowned in confusion and then waved at it as if to say “go ahead,” and I picked it up, scanning the article. The headline held the words “Montana Copper” and the first line of the article mentioned Dunnigan. It was all in German, and I could not understand any more of it, but as my eyes ran from the company name to my hometown’s name, my heart sank as I reread the words, again and again.

Instinctively, I knew it could not be good. What exactly had my father been up to while I was traveling the world? I stood up straight, staring at a rack of gowns, not seeing them, only seeing the mountains that lined my papa’s property, now with Wallace Kensington’s name on the title. “He couldn’t have,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It’s impossible.”

“May I?” I asked the matron, gesturing to the paper, hoping she understood that I was asking if I might take it with me.

She frowned at me and shook her head, speaking in rapid German. Apparently she was not yet done reading it and felt no need to bend over backward for her clients.

“Cora?” Vivian asked from across the room. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes,” I said, dodging her questioning glance. I hurried into the dressing room and swallowed an urge to scream as the maid began the long, laborious task of taking the gown and corset off me. Only the release of the corset brought me some relief. I struggled to breathe, slowly and steadily, trying to gather my wits. I had to find a translator. And a copy of that newspaper, before I made incorrect assumptions.

Don’t jump to conclusions without the facts
, my papa always said. But I was jumping, leaping….

And where I landed was a deep, deep hole.

~William~

Cora and Vivian found their gowns at the first stop, but Lillian and Nell were proving far more difficult to please. The men had their rented costumes in order too, and all were scheduled to be delivered in the morning, clean and pressed. Vivian accompanied the girls into the next shop, but Cora lingered outside with the men, looking one way down the street and then the other.