Silver in the Blood (8 page)

“Oof! Vile!” Lou gasped.

“Well, that's what I get for hopping on this train last minute,” said her rescuer. “Every time the wind gusts, I get clouds of smoke in here unless I keep the windows shut tight—so be careful! And the passageway is constantly traveled by men with big cigars already in hand.”

Lou giggled in sympathy, and also a bit in embarrassment, and pulled her head back inside to look at her companion. He was British, she could tell by the accent, but she hadn't thought she would recognize him.

“You're Lord John Harcastle!” A red flush stole up her neck and into her cheeks.

“Ah. Yes. I suppose I am.” He fiddled with his cuffs and smiled awkwardly.

“But you're so young! The photograph made you look . . . and the papers made it sound like . . .” She trailed off, and blushed even darker.

“Saw that, did you?” Lord John made a face. “That was not the best day I've ever had, I must confess.”

“I—I imagine not,” she said, and then giggled a little before she could help herself.

To her relief, he joined her, laughing easily and hiding his eyes with one hand in an endearingly bashful way. He was probably no more than a pair of years older than her, nineteen at the most. He had brown hair that looked mussed as though he'd been sleeping, and his blue suit was rumpled as well. His collar was open and he wasn't wearing a tie, but Lou saw something with red stripes crammed between two seat cushions that she thought might be the missing item of clothing.

Dacia had sent the newspaper clippings to Lou, just a few months ago. Lord Johnny, as everyone called him, had gotten into an altercation with a member of the House of Lords on the steps of Parliament and had punched the other lord, knocking him unconscious. When police had tried to restrain him, Lord Johnny had fought them as well, and accidentally kicked a newspaper reporter who had arrived on the scene. The newspapers, protecting one of their own, had revealed that Lord Johnny had incurred enormous debts (gambling was implied)
and his father was on the verge of cutting him off before he squandered their entire fortune. The papers had made him sound like a hardened criminal, and the photograph that had run with the articles had made him look older, decidedly unkempt, and downright devilish.

And this was all before Aunt Kate had saved Dacia from a scandalous adventure with Lord Johnny, which made Lou blush to think about even now. Dacia gaily referred to it as the Incident in London, but Lou had no idea how her cousin could be so cavalier about it.

Furthermore, Lou was amazed that she had recognized him at all, since in person he was so much nicer, with a bright smile and twinkling blue eyes that made him look even more boyish. She could see why Dacia found him so irresistible.

She was also certain that he was the young man she'd seen at the Louvre just before leaving Paris. So strange that the society pages hadn't uncovered his whereabouts. According to the last clipping from London that Lou had received, Lord Johnny was hiding from his debts at his family estate in Suffolk.

“You have met my cousin,” Lou said to the young lord tentatively. “Miss Dacia Vreeholt of New York.”

Lord Johnny's entire face lit up. If Lou had thought him handsome before, if in a mischievous way, it was nothing to how he looked at the mention of her cousin's name. He even sat up straighter, and dazzled her with his smile.

“Dacia is your cousin? Marvelous! Is she here?” He peered out into the corridor.

“No,” Lou said, and was a bit disappointed. She rather wished that someday a young man might light up like that at the mention of
her
name. Dacia had young men falling at her feet no matter where she went. “But I'm on my way to meet her,” she admitted. “In Romania. Bucharest.”

“Why are you going
there
?”

Now Lord Johnny was on the edge of his seat, his spine ramrod straight, but the glow was gone, along with the smile. His blue eyes searched her face, and he moved a shock of brown hair off his forehead with an impatient hand.

“Are you traveling alone?” he asked, but then answered himself. “No! Surely not! And Dacia? She's already there? Who is with her?”

“I'm with my parents,” Lou said, taken aback by his reaction. “And my brothers. They are at the other end of the car, in our compartment. Dacia is at one of our family's houses. With our aunt Kate. We own a lot of houses . . . our mothers are Romanian.”

She was babbling, she knew, and it was obvious that she was edging toward the door of the compartment, but he really was alarming her now. Also, it had occurred to her that she herself didn't know this young man, who had nearly been sent to jail this very year for his crimes. Even worse: he had enticed Dacia to . . . to . . . well to nearly disgrace herself! Lou moved back to the door of the compartment.

“You're Romanian? I didn't know that.” He screwed up his face, thinking. “Then I think you'll be all right. Romania can be dangerous, though, if you don't know what you're doing. I'm sure your mother's family will look out for you.”

Ignoring that, Lou asked him a question. “What are
you
doing here?” She had one hand on the door, but his last sentence caught her attention, and she looked at him with one of her best Aunt Kate expressions. “I mean, why are you on this train?”

“I have business in Bucharest,” he said stiffly.

“Well, good luck to you,” she said, wishing her voice wasn't coming out so shrill. “Good day, my lord.” And she beat a hasty retreat back to her family's compartment.

“LouLou? Are you all right?”

Her father woke up as she slipped in between the sliding mahogany doors. He startled her and she jumped and let out a little scream.

“Oh, goodness! Yes, I'm fine!” She clutched at the lacy fichu at her throat. “I just wanted some air.”

Maria sniffed, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Then why did you go to the smoking car?” she demanded. Her sense of smell was almost as keen as Aunt Kate's, as Lou and Dacia had discovered the time they had tried to smoke cigarettes with the coachman behind the stable.

“Having a cigar with the gentlemen, were we?” Her father winked at her.

“I thought perhaps it was just an empty car,” she said, trying to sound dignified.

“Well, it isn't, and now you smell like some dreadful gentleman's club,” her mother complained. “Open a window, someone. I can't stand the reek.”

Lou subsided into her seat, chastened. Why did such things always happen to her? If she wasn't accosted by
strange men, then she was wandering into the wrong train car and . . . being accosted by strange men again! She sighed and rubbed at her skirt, hoping that the smell wouldn't stay in the silk permanently.

“Who is that strange man?”

Lou glanced up at her mother's shriek, and let out a small screech of her own. That Awful Man was standing in the passageway, peering into their compartment! She thought she might really have an attack of some sort now, and could only gasp for air. Lord Johnny appeared beside him, and Lou wondered for a fevered moment if she was simply hallucinating all the beaux she didn't have. Lord Johnny spoke to That Awful Man, and then they both went on down the passage toward the young lord's compartment.

“LouLou, are you all right?” Her father knelt in front of her, grabbing her hands. “Just breathe, darling, you're turning quite pale!”

Lou did her best to relax and breathe, but then the twins woke up and demanded something to eat. Maria shouted at them to be silent because she had just had a shock: a strange man had ogled her, and then Adam wanted to know what
ogled
meant. But Lou's father stayed at her side, talking in a soothing voice that she could barely hear above the din, until she was able to catch her breath again.

“I'll be all right,” she assured him after a little while.

“Did you know that man? The first one?” Her father pressed her hands.

“N-no,” she stammered. “He just startled me.” She felt her stomach churn at the lie. “But the younger man was Lord John Harcastle,” she admitted. “Dacia's Lord Johnny, you know, from London.”

“I see,” her father said, looking as if this explained a great deal.

“That horrid boy!” Her mother was even more hysterical now. “Don't ever say his name again! To think what we might have lost if Dacia had . . . if they had . . . I can't even say it!”

“Eloped?” Lou's father suggested.

“Don't say it!” her mother screamed.

“What does
eloped
mean?” David wanted to know. Adam giggled and elbowed his twin in the ribs.

“Never you mind,” their father said.

“But they didn't, not really, Dacia thought he . . .” Lou trailed off. Not even her father was listening to her, and she didn't really understand what Dacia had been doing.

The conductor arrived to see what all the screaming was about, and offered Mrs. Neulander wine and smelling salts, both of which she happily accepted. She was less happy that the conductor was unwilling to throw the men who had peeped at her off the train, when he learned that one of them was an English lord.

Lou leaned her face against the cool windowpane, and wished that meeting Lord Johnny had helped her make sense of what was happening with her family. She was just as baffled and frightened as she had been before . . . no, more so. And the train still had more mountains to cross, and more borders, before she reached Bucharest.

Lou could not wait until they arrived in Bucharest and she was reunited with Dacia. Dacia always seemed to have the answers, and if she didn't, she would figure out how to get them.

 

THE DIARY OF MISS DACIA VREEHOLT

22 May 1897

I wish that you could somehow help me. I do not know where to turn. There is something very wrong among my mother's family. They are full of secrets, secrets they guard so closely that Radu fears for his life if he tells me. He seems very convinced of this fact: that his life is forfeit if he disobeys that horrible creature that I have the misfortune to be connected to, that awful woman whom fate has cursed me with as a grandmother. Lady Ioana frightens me almost as much as she frightens Radu, and though I find it hard to believe that even she is odious enough to have her own grandson killed, there is still a coldness in her eyes that makes me shudder whenever I see her.

I long for Lou to join me here, and yet I am frightened for her. What will she make of this situation? How soon can we free ourselves of it? My uncle Cyrus will surely not allow us to be bullied and mistreated by Lady Ioana. Perhaps I can appeal to him to take us straight back to New York. They arrive soon from Paris. I will speak to Lou and Uncle Cyrus as soon as I may, and sound out their feelings. I am not sure I will last another week, let alone months!

I have written to Mother, but it is laughable to think that she would offer consolation, or go against her mother's wishes to tell me the answer to any of my questions. Indeed, she has not answered a single one of my letters since I fell into disgrace in England. Papa writes regularly, but only of general matters: his and Mother's well-being, social events, etc. Besides which, he has never been to Romania, and has never met Lady Ioana.

Will Aunt Maria be of help when she arrives? Who can say? Now that I see Aunt Kate giving in before Lady Ioana, I doubt Aunt Maria will oppose the old woman, either.

Precisely why I am glad that
my
mother's indisposition kept her at home. Imagine if my own mother were to turn against me!

On second thought, the difference would be imperceptible . . .

The moment Lou descended from the carriage, Dacia flung herself into her cousin's arms. She was a bit startled at her own vehemence, but just couldn't check her emotion or her flight. It was fortunate that her uncle was right behind Lou, and could catch them both before they crashed to the pavement.

“Oh, Lou!” Dacia caught herself before her words became a sob. “I'm so glad you're here at last!”

Lou muttered something into the lace of Dacia's bodice, and when Dacia stepped back, she realized that Lou had not been able to restrain tears of her own. That prompted more embraces, and Dacia and Lou both sniffled and smiled at each other with watery eyes, while Lou's father handed down her mother and then the twins.

“Dacia, it's been simply awful,” Lou said in a low voice, shooting a glance at her parents.

“You, too?” Dacia slumped. Poor Lou! She'd been hoping that at least one of them was enjoying herself. She knew about
That Awful Man, of course, but had hoped that things were going better for her cousin. “Come upstairs at once; we'll talk.” She leveled a terrible look at the twins. “And if we're interrupted, I will have the two of you exiled to Turkey, see if I don't!”

They gazed back in the utmost innocence, and Dacia snorted. She put her arm through Lou's and led her up the stairs into the mansion, where Aunt Kate was waiting. Dacia tried to lead Lou past their aunt, but Kate raised one eyebrow and Dacia wilted. The battle of wills with her aunt was becoming increasingly beyond her energy. Though she hated to admit it, Lady Ioana had taken much of the wind out of her sails.