Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
My hotel room door opens, jolting me from where I stand, before the full-length mirror.
Instinctually, I cover my barely clothed body, but relief runs through me upon seeing it is Amina.
Draped over her arms is an assortment of silk and cotton dresses.
In her hands are shopping bags filled with accessories needed for the disguise.
I fidget with my hair—now cut into the fashionable bob Amina insisted would help me look nothing like Clara Fairfax—as she lays the dresses carefully on my bed and sets the shopping bags on the floor.
“Were you able to get everything?” I ask.
She nods. “Enough to get you by for the next month or so.” She gestures to the pile. “Are you ready to get started?”
My breath hitches as I stare back at my reflection.
My body looks foreign to me—slight hollowness under my eyes and cheekbones, the undergarments looser than before.
I secure my garter belt tighter, roll my stockings into place, and tug at my chemise.
The toll of recent events shows, but there’s no time to dwell on it.
Amina comes up behind me with a soft pillow, slightly bigger than my head—one side rounded with extra cushion, the other flat.
Hand-sewn buckles flop on the sides. She places the flat side on my stomach and moves behind me to buckle it onto my back.
I poke a few fingers deep into the protruding side, no more than four inches deep. All I feel are soft feathers.
“How does it feel?” Amina asks over my right shoulder.
I twist from side to side, jump slightly, but the pillow barely budges. I take a few deep breaths, comfortably.
“Fits perfectly,” I confirm.
It’s tight enough that it cannot fall off, but loose enough to breathe.
Amina turns me sideways in front of the mirror and shows me how to put the contraption on myself. With that done, I slip into a short-sleeved silk day dress—a solid navy blue embroidered with navy stones. Thankfully, Amina picked a size that fits perfectly over the rounded cushion.
She hands me a set of pearl earrings and a matching necklace. Taking one final look in the mirror, I’m taken aback. From the hair to the elegance of the dress and the barely visible bump, I truly look the part. No one will doubt I’m an expecting mother.
A married one, I must add—which reminds me…
“Do you have the rings?” I ask, turning back to Amina.
“Oh! Yes.” She digs into her purse and pulls out a small black velvet box, handing it to me.
Inside are two rings: a solid gold band and an engagement ring with an emerald surrounded by smaller diamonds in a rectangular setting.
I lift the engagement ring to eye level.
This must be the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.
I slip on the wedding band first, then the engagement ring, stretching my left hand out in front of me.
I’m not used to seeing such an expensive item on that finger.
“I packed everything into your valise,” Amina says, waking me from my gem-stoned reverie. I glance at the bed—empty, everything packed away into my luggage. She hands me a white cloche hat, a satisfied smile on her face. “I think you’re all set to go, Mrs. Abbott.”
I take the hat from her and pull her in for a tight embrace. “Thank you for everything,” I say into her ear. “I will miss you terribly.”
When we break apart, our hands are still clasped together. I look at her, pleading in desperation as I say, “Please come back soon with answers, and more importantly, promise me you’ll be safe.”
“You worry about getting to Canterbury safely,” Amina says. “Between Lord Claremont, Dr. Alarie, and me, we’ll get you out of this bind.” She squeezes my hands, meeting my eyes. “I promise you.”
We share another hug before grabbing my two valises and proceeding out of the suite toward the hotel lobby.
While alone in the hallway, I experiment with my walk, wondering if I should add a slight waddle to my gait.
It’s the smallest detail that can ruin a disguise, despite how much I may look the part.
That’s in part why Amina suggested this as my disguise.
No one would think to look for a married, pregnant woman when they’re searching for Clara Fairfax—an unwed woman, not with child.
Nor would anyone suspect I’d be hiding the Eudaemon artifacts in my pregnant belly.
This ensures I keep them with me while also eliminating the risk of anyone stealing them from me.
Quite an ingenious idea. I only wish it hadn’t required such an intricate disguise on my part.
“Add in a little bit,” Amina says, noticing my attempt. “You don’t want to oversell it.”
I practice my new walk as we descend the three flights of stairs and reach the lobby. It’s Saturday midday, with locals and tourists arriving for luncheon or tea. I scour around the busy lobby for them. Thankfully, Dr. Alarie’s tall stature makes it easy to spot.
“Grandad,” I say, announcing our arrival.
The three of them turn, pausing as they register that it’s me standing before them. It appears my disguise is doing its job. If I can fool my grandad, then there is no doubt it will fool strangers along the way.
Henry and I take each other in. He’s wearing a tweed suit like Grandad’s, a matching fedora in hand. Catching the light, a gold band shines on his ring finger. Glancing down at my left hand, a sense of ease runs through me, knowing we are now partners in this journey.
I wonder what he sees when he looks at me like this. Suddenly self-conscious, I raise my hand to the back of my neck, reaching for the bun that’s typically there, but I’m met with exposed neck. Instead, I shift the pearl necklace to save myself from looking foolish.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Abbott?” Henry asks with a teasing smile as we step closer, standing side by side like a married couple.
I glance down, caught off guard by the sight of the bump beneath me. I know it’ll take time to get used to. A smile forms on my face as I look back up at him.
“Feeling splendid, Mr. Abbott,” I tease.
Grandad, Amina, and Dr. Alarie stand before us, all of them wearing the same hesitancy on their faces.
They won’t be leaving Venice until tomorrow night.
Grandad by train to Rome, Amina by train to Constantinople, and Dr. Alarie by ship to Athens.
We won’t be able to contact them until we reach the base and confirm our arrival.
After that, communication with each other will be sparse, reserved for emergencies or news of how I might become unbonded.
Grandad looks over at Amina. “You outdid yourself.” He gestures toward me. “If I hadn’t known already, I wouldn’t be able to tell that any of this is fake.”
He steps closer and angles his body away from the others, lowering his voice. “Are you ready?”
I nod with as much confidence as I can muster. “I think so.”
A smile forms on his lips. The kind he wears when he isn’t quite sure of something. He leans closer and whispers, “If you're ever in a position where your life is in danger, please promise me you won’t hesitate to use the artifacts.”
I look up at him, surprised by his request. Grandad is no man of violence; he doesn’t even like to go hunting, which is why his insistence on my using the artifacts to protect myself comes as a shock.
But knowing how worried—and frightened—he must be to send me away, I understand how much agreement will mean to him.
“I promise I will,” I assure him.
And I silently promise to do the same for Henry.
Relief spreads instantly across his face.
“Lord Claremont,” a strange voice says directly behind us.
We all turn to see a lanky man, roughly Dr. Alarie’s age, ascending the entrance stairs toward us. He’s dressed in luxurious clothing, nearly identical to the wealthy aristocratic disguise we are exuding. An aura of arrogance clings to him, reminding me of every Duke or Viscount in the peerage.
“Dr. Richmond,” Grandad manages, astonishment written plainly across his face. “I didn’t know you were in Venice,” he adds, quickly collecting himself as he shakes his hand.
“I had to get away from the cold and dark days in the Nordic region. The university in Rome invited me to give a lecture on Norse mythology’s influence during the Viking Age. I stopped here for a quick visit, as nothing is quite like the Venetian cuisine,” Dr. Richmond says.
“That’s right. You’re leading the current Viking excavation in Denmark. How is it coming along?” Grandad is acting earnest.
I can always tell when he’s being sincere, and right now, he’s forcing it like his life depends on it.
Dr. Richmond rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Oh, absolutely dreadful. We haven’t uncovered a single foundation for a Viking ring fortress. We’ve been in Aggersborg for three months, and not a single discovery yet.”
“Oh, that’s quite a shame, Richmond. I understood your team believed one would be there,” Grandad says consolingly. “I can see why you would need a brief reprieve from that.”
Dr. Richmond dips his head in appreciation and finally looks past Grandad. Familiarity registers across his face when he sees Amina and Dr. Alarie. “Oh, Dr. Baccar and Dr. Alarie. I didn’t see you there with Lord Claremont. My apologies for not acknowledging you sooner.”
His gaze shifts to Henry and me with intrigue. “And I don’t think we’ve met before.” He extends his hand toward Henry. “Dr. Alan Richmond, archaeologist and mythology expert at your service.”
Henry takes his hand, but I sense his reluctance. “Edward Abbott.” A brilliant instinct. He places a hand lightly on my back. “And this is my wife, Georgina.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Richmond says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He then turns back to the group. “Now tell me—why the three best minds in archaeology and history are here at the Magnolia Hotel? I thought you would be heading toward Turkey by now.”