Chapter One
ST. LOUIS
Three Days Before the Murder
GRACE HAD SPENT many of her summer days growing up within the elegant oak-paneled walls of the Carter mansion on Forest Park, despite the best intentions of her aunt.
Grace resented the way her aunt Clove had cast out her mother, but her uncle Reginald had insisted that civilized people did not punish the innocent for the mistakes of their forbearers.
So Grace and her brother Walt were to be given a fresh start and a chance to redeem their family line for the next generation.
Walt had squandered his chance in spectacular fashion and threatened to take Grace’s out as well, yet somehow it still hung like a charm on a thin string, winking in the light.
This was in large part because her cousin Lillie had adopted her from their first breaths and insisted upon bringing her along to high society functions.
But what Grace had secretly loved more than any of Lillie’s introductions to balls or dinner parties was the way the late-afternoon light splashed across the Carter mansion’s parquet floors; how she and Lillie had grown up believing the cast-iron fountain in the back courtyard was a magical, wish-granting spring; the way Lillie’s well-fed corgi Lulu padded around the house with a bell collar muffled by her fur.
It wasn’t the riches of the Carter mansion that called her back again and again, but the sense of family. Though it would never be her home in name, Oliver and Lillie had planted seeds in her heart that were not easily uprooted.
“Turn around,” Lillie ordered. She untied the sunhat from around Grace’s throat. Lillie was a stunning beauty, with her mother’s sculpted cheekbones and fair complexion, her father’s bright eyes and his kindness. Grace was utterly in love with her.
Grace had arrived a week ago, taking the train from Kansas City, and they had spent every afternoon sitting beneath parasols in the backyard, eating sandwiches and drinking lemonades with frozen blueberries floating on top while the frantic sound of hammering thundered around them.
It was impossible to go anywhere in the city without seeing the lavish art nouveau posters plastered on every pole and building for miles—an image by Mucha of an elegant woman in a tangerine dress, grasping the hand of a Native American chief in a ceremonial war bonnet behind her.
Grace and Lillie had written to each other of little else for months.
The jewel of Forest Park stretched on in an endless green vista near the Carter house, its fountains and rolling hills visible from all of the south-facing front rooms. But over the last three years it had been steadily transformed into a different world.
Ten thousand workers had poured in to create fifteen hundred new structures: palaces with domed cupolas, fountains and waterways and intricate canals for boats to float by grand halls and colonnades; a mile-long promenade of shops and restaurants; a Ferris wheel, an intramural railroad, and even a working roller coaster.
It was an entire miniature city built to last seven months, a world’s fair to be combined with the summer Olympic Games.
It was also a testament to progress: what collective humanity could accomplish, as well as marking the hundred-year celebration of the Louisiana Purchase.
“The Ivory City,” the press had dubbed it.
The eyes of the entire world were turned toward St. Louis, waiting for the future to be made there. And Grace desperately wanted to be there, too, in its crucible, secretly hoping she’d be touched by something valuable in proximity.
“You’re sure you don’t mind if I go tonight?” Lillie asked, bringing an earring to her lobe. She studied Grace’s face in the mirror’s reflection.
“Of course not,” Grace said. She tried not to feel the needle-prick of jealousy that Lillie and Oliver were invited to the fair’s exclusive opening night’s party.
She was grateful that she got to go at all, tomorrow, and every day before she returned to Kansas City on the train next week.
“I bet I can see the fireworks from the balcony,” she said.
“And in my nightdress, without the crowds.”
“But you’ll be here alone,” Lillie said.
Grace scoffed. “I’ll wait up for you to return and you’ll tell me everything,” she said. “And I won’t be alone. Lulu and I will be here together indulging in a cup of tea and some dark chocolate, won’t we, Lulu?” She scratched the dog’s neck.
“I don’t know,” Lillie said. “Perhaps I’ll just stay. We can make a girls’ night of it.”
“Don’t you dare, Lillie Alice Carter, I would never forgive you,” Grace said. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for you.”
Partly to distract Lillie, she jumped up and fetched a box.
She had spent three weeks fashioning what was inside—a necklace of round porcelain beads she had painted to look like an intricate bow pattern of floral lace.
She’d used a horsehair paintbrush as thin as a whisper and sharp as a blade, and it had turned out beautifully.
Lillie gasped, examining it closely. Then she insisted that Grace help her put it on.
As she fixed the clasp around the slender curve of Lillie’s neck, Grace could hear the roar of a massive crowd cheering nearby.
Fifty thousand people—perhaps even one hundred thousand people. It sounded like the crash of an ocean wave in the middle of the country.
They both turned toward the window. Lillie’s fingers flew to her mouth.
“Stop biting,” Grace said automatically.
Lillie wrinkled her nose as she looked at her ragged nails. “Mother is going to have a conniption when she sees my hands.”
“Nail-biting is the surest indication of a person’s debauchery, more so even than gambling, wantonness, or prostitution.”
Lillie threw a hat at her.
“Wear these,” Grace said. She rummaged in Lillie’s wardrobe and found a pair of satin gloves.
Her eyes fell on a dress that shimmered pale blue, shot through with silver threads and exquisitely embroidered appliqués of beaded flowers.
It was one of the many dresses Lillie would wear later in the week. Her eyes lingered on it.
There was a knock on the door.
“Everyone decent in there?” Oliver called.
“The jury is hung,” Grace said. She went to open the door. “But fully dressed? Yes.”
He waltzed in dressed in tails, a bow tie, and a top hat.
“You look lovely, as always, Sister,” he said, giving Lillie a kiss on the cheek. Grace returned to pinning Lillie’s hair.
“And I have a surprise for you.” He dangled a box wrapped with a ribbon in front of them. “A riddle. One very decadent offering is hidden within this box. It is a single item that cannot be shared, and yet it’s a gift to you both.”
With a flourish, he set it in front of Lillie. “Can you guess what it is?”
She squealed. “You do the honors, Grace,” she said, pushing it across the vanity, where Grace picked it up. It was as light as the discarded shell of a bird’s egg. She resisted the urge to shake it.
“Don’t keep us in suspense!” Lillie said. “Open it!”
Grace pulled at the ribbon, her face flushing. She opened the box and inside was a piece of paper.
Its gilded edge caught the light.
Invite One
Opening Night Fete of the World’s Fair
Private Entrance
Under and Over the Sea
She turned toward Oliver, eyes shining.
A ticket.
Lillie shrieked, plucking it from her hands.
“A ticket? Another ticket for Grace?”
“Yes. A gift to you both.”
“You are the most brilliant, delightful, delicious brother,” Lillie said.
Grace could hardly catch her breath. “Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around Oliver. She kissed his neck. “Thank you.”
“Oh, but quickly!” Lillie said, glancing at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “The carriage will be here soon! We have to find you a dress!” She threw open her wardrobe and began tossing gowns on the bed. “And now you’ll get to meet my friend Frannie!”
Oliver buried a laugh in a cough and gave Grace an apologetic look.
Grace had never told Lillie how horrible Frannie Allred had been to her that night at last winter’s Botanical Ball in Chicago.
Her stomach turned a little at the thought of seeing Frannie again.
It brought back the way Theodore Parker had looked at her like she was a piece of mess on the bottom of his shoe; the way the two of them had dissected and humiliated her together.
She’d hidden it from Lillie, who would have been injured on Grace’s behalf.
And Grace couldn’t bear to hurt her cousin, even if the wound had traveled through herself first.
But who cared about any of that now. The presence of Frannie Allred was a small price to pay for a ticket to the event of the century. Grace’s gaze fell on the silver-blue dress she’d been eyeing earlier.
“Yes,” Lillie said, immediately scooping it up. “It’s so you.”
“It won’t fit me,” Grace protested.
“So we’ll pin it.”
“Your mother will have a fit.”
“Good. It will distract her from my nails.” Lillie thrust the dress at Grace. “Now go put it on.”
Grace held it to her chest and hurried to the guest room.
Her heart was pounding. So the week at the Ivory City would start sooner than she had planned.
She was thrilled—and yet the memory of Frannie Allred and Theodore Parker in Chicago was the least of the secrets she’d been keeping.
The start of the fair meant she was one step closer to having to tell Lillie and Oliver the truth: she could no longer be part of their world.
Her fingers shook a little as she pulled on Lillie’s dress and pushed earrings into her ears.
Lillie came in with pins to help the dress better fit Grace’s shape.
She fussed with the folds until it fell to her liking, then gasped with delight, steering Grace toward the bronze-framed mirror.
“Can you believe it?” Lillie said, clasping Grace from behind.
“This is about to be the best week of our lives.”