"Rumors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Godbersen Anna)

Twenty Two

THE ROCKING OF A TRAIN WAS EVIDENTLY SOMETHING that calmed Will, for Elizabeth, lying in the crook of his arm, woke up to see that he was perfectly, angelically asleep. The remainders of the lunch they’d eaten early that day had been removed from the little table in front of their red velvet upholstered seat, and the view through the brass-framed window showed that darkness had almost completely fallen. Or was it the first light of dawn? The hour was either very late or very early, but in any event the porter had not disturbed them to make up their berth. She had slept so little the night before that it was natural she would have fallen so completely into dreaming on the train. Elizabeth closed her eyes and then opened them again.

She sat up suddenly and stood. Will shifted but did not wake up. Her shoulders were tight and her mouth was dry. Had they slept through the Oakland stop? If that was true, her chances to save her family were behind her — she knew, from Denny, where the pawnshops were there, but how would she find such places in other cities? She didn’t know how long they would stay anywhere else. It seemed impossible that she would now be able to carry out her plan.

She moved down the train, looking for some friendly face, but all was quiet. As she reached the observation car, she saw through the glass that a well-dressed man was sitting there, smoking. She was so preoccupied that she went through the door and addressed the stranger with an abruptness that she would have termed rude in her previous life.

“Have we passed Oakland?” she said.

“Yes, some hours ago,” the man replied, turning. This answer distressed her so thoroughly that she did not recognize the man until he pronounced her name.

“Miss Elizabeth Holland,” Grayson Hayes repeated with emphasis.

She looked up into the man’s face and knew that she had not mistaken Penelope’s older brother. Though she hadn’t seen him in almost four years, his was a face she knew well. He had high, flat cheeks like his sister and a nose like an arrow pointing downward and a thin pencil moustache. His eyes were blue like his sister’s and were positioned just slightly too close together — for some reason that Elizabeth had never fully understood, this gave him a wily rather than clownish appearance.

Then she remembered that she was supposed to be dead.

He was looking at her as though he knew the whole catalogue of her secrets, but that might have just been an old Hayes intimidation technique. He had been abroad, after all, and had always had the family trait of self-absorption. He might have known anything about her or nothing at all. The only thing Elizabeth was sure of was that she disliked the way his eyes were on her.

He had hardened since she last saw him, which was at a small dance at the Hayeses’ old town house on Washington Square, where he had flattered her by asking her to dance — she had been very young then, and he had been the pick of the bachelors — but then he’d abandoned her midwaltz to dance with Isabelle De Ford. He was larger now, no longer someone you could describe as a boy. He wore his hair in a way that reminded her of Henry. It was the way they all wore their hair, those boys who cast proprietary glances at the whole world.

“You must have me confused,” she said coldly.

Then she turned and ran back through the cars until she reached Will. Grayson Hayes did not follow her, although she kept looking back to be sure, and when she reached her own compartment she shook Will awake. He opened his eyes slowly, lazily, and when he made her out he smiled. A few seconds passed and then he asked her what was wrong.

“We have to get off this train.” Her voice trembled, and she knew that if she did not manage a deep breath soon, she might collapse. Will must have realized her state of agitation, because the happiness went out of his face. “We have to get off as soon as we can.”