Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The bright sun shines through the windows, nearly blinding my left eye as we make our way to the dining car. The chugging sound of the train thumps loudly in my ears. My stomach twists with anticipation. The sooner we can get through this meal, the sooner I can be Clara again.
The scent of food hits me as soon as we enter the dining car. Murmurs echo quietly across the car, and Henry gives a look of reassurance as we head deeper inside.
The dining car is luxurious, just like our suite, with crystal chandeliers, dark walnut hardwood paneling, golden accents, and dining tables covered in soft ivory tablecloths.
A server comes over to us. “Good evening, Mr. I glance out the window as he places them in front of us.
Snow-capped Alps rise in the distance, engulfed in a sea of pale pink light from the setting sun.
A chill runs down my spine at the sight.
A smile of amazement forms on my face, allowing Mother Nature to bewilder me.
I turn to Henry, smiling, and point to the view off in the distance.
“Isn’t it exquisite?” I marvel.
He doesn’t speak as we take in the beauty before us.
For a moment, I allow myself to be swept away in the belief I’m not Clara Fairfax, burdened with being the Eudaemon and wielder of powerful ancient artifacts.
Instead, I'm Georgina Abbott, a wife and expectant mother, traveling Europe with her loving husband.
“Is this what it feels like to see the world?” I ask Henry, forcing myself to look away.
A dazed, mesmerized expression lingers on both our faces.
Henry nods, taking a sip of wine. “There’s no better feeling than to be in the presence of a marvel, both natural and manmade. Truly breathtaking.”
I get lost in his eyes, trying to grasp the adventures reflected in them.
If only I could reach in and take hold of each memory, truly envision what it’s like to experience the world.
Then the train shifts slightly on the track, jolting me from my reverie.
I sit up straighter and take a sip of water, grounding myself back into the mind and body of Georgina Abbott, pushing aside the strange feelings our moment stirred.
We resume eating our mushroom soup before it gets cold, and we place our spoons at the four o’clock angle on the dish when we are finished.
As I dab my lips with the napkin, I hear a low female voice beside me. Too low for me to hear what she said. I turn to my right and see the wife of the couple next to us looking right at me, waiting for a reply.
“Apologies, dear, I didn’t hear you. My head seems to be in the clouds these days,” I say with a light chuckle. “What did you say?”
The woman gives me a warm smile, complimenting her sharp green eyes. Her pristine blonde bob shines in the sunlight, looking like a beautiful actress from a silent picture. “It’s alright, I understand.”
Her American accent is clear as her gaze drifts to my slightly noticeable bump. “I said it’s nice to have another couple on board with us.” She glances toward the other passengers before leaning closer, lowering her voice. “As you can see, we’ve had limited company while on the Simplon.”
A grin spreads across her face as she looks to her husband, who must be ten years her senior, with salt-and-pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses. “Now we have another couple whom we can entertain with, darling.”
She places a hand lightly on her chest. “I’m Mrs. Fournier,” she says, then gestures to her partner. “And this is my husband, Mr. Fournier. But you can call us Helen and Antoine.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Abbott. But you can call us Georgina and Edward,” I reply, meeting the same level of informality as her.
A side smile curls on Helen’s lips, approval setting in her eyes as if she’s assessing us. “I don’t mean to interrupt your meal, especially as you’ve just arrived, but would you care to have digestifs with us in the lounge car afterward?”
“What a grand idea,” I say brightly, stifling a yawn. “But I’m afraid between all of our travels today—and with my condition—I’m exhausted and should rest after dinner.”
“We will gladly accompany you for digestifs tomorrow evening, if that is suitable for you both,” Henry offers quickly as an alternative.
“Tomorrow it is! We look forward to seeing you then,” Helen says. She lifts her wine in a salute. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
When I turn away from Helen and face Henry, I realize I’ve been holding my breath, my body stiff as if braced for discovery. Relief rushes through me that we’ve passed our first attempt at proving we’re the Abbotts.
The first course arrives shortly after. As one course gives way to the next, we settle into the charade of performance, speaking as the Abbotts would.
“Have you heard the outcomes of the race in Cheshire?” I ask. “I’m surprised Reign won. I would’ve bet five hundred pounds on San Sebastián to bring home the trophy, given its winning history this year.”
Henry smiles, understanding I’m speaking as Georgina Abbott. “That’s why you never put all your money on one horse, dear.”
I shrug. “My method has worked very well for me over the years. Why change it up now?” I reach for the waterglass to take a sip. “Have you heard from your father? Is your brother still giving him a hard time about finally taking a position in the company?”
“You know how Louis is, stubborn as a bull, and isn’t willing to let go of his bachelor days. It drives Father mad and keeps Mother worried.”
I smirk. “But they never worry about you, Mr. Abbott. You’re the dutiful and loyal son they always dreamed of.”
Henry leans forward with a sly smile. “And don’t forget that I’m the favorite son, too.”
Benecio arrives at our table, clearing away our dessert plates. “I hope you both enjoyed your dinner, Mr. & Mrs. Abbott. Have a good rest of your night.” He bows slightly to us, then swiftly makes his way to the kitchen with plates and cutlery in hand.
Henry rises from his seat first, offering me his hand.
I take it and am helped up from my seat.
As I stand up, I’m able to take a quick glimpse of the other passengers onboard and am surprised to find out that they are two solo travelers: an older woman all dressed in black and a man somewhere in his thirties.
Before heading out of the train car, we stop in front of the Fourniers’ table. Henry places a hand lightly at the small of my back, and I slightly lean into him as we stand before them.
“It was such a pleasure meeting you tonight,” I say.
Helen gives me a warm smile. “Pleasure’s all ours. Have a good night. We shall see you tomorrow.”
After we say our final farewells, I place my hand in the crook of Henry’s arm and let him guide us out of the dining car.
The moment our suite door closes and locks behind us, I collapse onto the bed.
The buckle of the contraption digs deeper into my back, irritation flaring as it gets worse.
I know if I don’t get this thing off me in a few short seconds, I’ll be like a stick of dynamite, ready to explode.
Without saying a word to Henry, I rush off the bed and head to the water closet.
Closing the door behind me, I lift my dress and frantically unbuckle the cushion contraption.
When I feel the extra weight free from my torso, a deep sigh of relief escapes me.
I carelessly plop the contraption onto the floor, remembering what’s secretly nestled inside.
I take hold of each side of the water closet sink, getting my bearings.
Once I feel like myself again, I fix my dress skirt, grab the contraption, and head back to the bedroom.
The double doors to the living room are still open. Henry’s sitting on the edge of the chaise with his forehead scrunching with worry.
“Everything all right?” he asks as I set the contraption delicately on the bed and then join him in the living room.
“Now it is. I think the buckle was on too tightly. It was digging into my back, and I had to get it off.”
My dress feels loose on me, the extra material draping down. I imagine I look ridiculous wearing such loose clothing without that contraption on.