fine young woman, inside and out.â
She met his gaze then, finally swallowing. A blush rose at her jawlineâfrom what? His endearment? Or because he had given her a compliment? Soon afterward, she sent away her plate, apparently too upset to eat any more while Wallace finished every bite. It surprised him, knowing how little sheâd had growing up. And now she pushed away a free meal? Well he remembered the days when he was lucky to get a full meal on his plate.
~Cora~
There was so much I wanted to ask him. About my mother. About their relationship. About his other family, his children. About what it was like when he first got to Montana, in the territorial days. About his stint as a US senator. But it all swirled around my head so fast that I couldnât grab hold of one strand long enough to pull it from the ball.
Thoughts of Mama and Papa made me feel even more dizzy. Would I ever see Papa again? That thought weighed upon me more than any other. Heâd looked so frail, his eyes sunken into his head, that it still sent a chill down my spine. Yet Mama had insisted this was Godâs provision.
Godâs provision? I scoffed at the thought. How could this pompous man across from me be sent by God?
âYouâre undoubtedly curious about the tour,â he said as the train neared Butteâs station later that evening.
I blinked twice, thinking Iâd like to know more about it, yes, but there were a hundred other thingsâ
âWeâll stay here in Butte for a bit. Tomorrow morning, you shall be seen by the family physician. Then your maid, Anna, will see to your wardrobe.â
I glanced down at my plain brown dress. I supposed I did appear as one of his lesser servants. But a physician? âIâm not ill.â
âYes, well, the bearâthe guide for your Grand Tourâinsists that all who are to come have a thorough examination.â He waved me off, as if that was all he could say about such an indelicate subject. âTonight, I must see to business. We shall dine together tomorrow evening, giving us time to becomeâ¦acquainted. Then we shall board another train and head north. Weâll take a week upon the lake before the tour party departs.â
âSo soon?â I managed to say.
âI believe it will be exactly right. Long enough for you young people to get to know one another, but not long enough for things toââhe paused, seeming uncomfortableââcome to a boiling point.â
I eyed him quickly. âDistraction is key,â he said. âAnd you all shall have constant distraction on the Grand Tourâyour minds occupied by the travel itself, by art, culture, languageâso you do not dwindle into lesser conversations.â
Lesser conversations. Such as my parentage. The thought of it made me blush furiously. Why, oh why, had my mother never told me? Given me the opportunity to prepare for this day?
Our train was pulling into the station now. Mr. Kensingtonâmy father , I reminded myself, though I highly doubted I would ever be able to call him Father âwas still speaking of our itinerary. â⦠trains to New York and then embark on a steamship for the weekâs crossing. And there,â he said, pausing, blue eyes twinkling, âthe adventure truly begins, does it not?â
I paused. âSomehow, I believe it already has, Mr. Kensington.â
He raised his head and regarded me for a long moment then. âIndeed, it has.â
It was ingenious, really. Sneaking me into town while the family was away. Mr. Kensington was greeted left and right, but apparently by mere acquaintances, no one important enough to introduce me to, regardless of their lingering glances. Or was it the other way around? That I wasnât important enough to introduce? I burned with curiosityâhow did he intend to explain my presence to the world?
He seemed to be in a hurry. To get to his office? Or to squire
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