where they engaged in their favorite pastimes of hunting, polo, golf, and cricket.”
I snapped the guidebook shut. “At least it’s not raining.”
The valley below showed off another beautiful waterfall, streaming down between the crevices of a green-carpeted hill, which was lined with neatly manicured hedgerows of tea bushes.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To the hotel,” Matt answered as he continued up a hill of mostly mud.
I took a few more squishy steps forward. “Why didn’t we take a taxi?”
“We need to save the cash,” he called back.
“Then, why are we staying at a hotel?”
“It’s already paid for, and since I made the arrangements myself, I doubt we’ll be found.”
“You doubt or you’re certain?”
“Do you want a shower?”
I shut up… for about a second. “Are you sure we’re going the right way? There are no signs on this road.”
“It’s a shortcut.”
The sky rumbled with laughter. Trickles of rain sprinkled, tapping a happy dance on my head. I pulled my rain poncho around me, which did nothing for the cold, while debating whether or not to throw the guidebook at the back of Matt’s head. “I’m hungry.”
Matt stopped. He waited for me to catch up and took the guidebook from me. He tucked it into his bag protectively. I made a face. He would save it from a soaking, but not me.
With a small, internal growl, I pushed ahead. We reached the top a few minutes later. The ground leveled and we passed through a barrier of trees. I almost cried at the sight in front of me. Soft rain kissed the slanted roof of a beautiful white plantation house with a wrap-around porch. Painted railings framed small balconies on the second floor, and halogen bulbs spotlighted a garden with a quiet pond. In the middle of an island jungle, I managed to find a slice of Georgia heaven.
“St. Elizabeth’s Hotel,” Matt announced.
“Room service,” I said happily. Despite aching muscles and an unstable muddy path, I practically ran to the hotel’s stone walkway. I tugged off my ruined shoes before rushing into the lobby.
A clerk in a crisp white uniform and thin mustache eyed me with misgiving, but smiled at Matt. “You will be on the second floor. You were fortunate, Master Northe, because of the festival we’ve been completely booked for months.” The clerk’s smile dimmed as he turned to me. His nose angled down at the sight of my dirt-caked khakis and bare feet. “If Memsahib would like, we also have a full-service laundry available.”
I resisted rolling my eyes. “Memsahib would like some tea. Can you bring it to the room? Oh, and a dinner menu.”
The clerk perked up. “We serve a high tea in the evenings with a variety of casseroles, meat pies, and a scrumptious milk cake for dessert. Of course, our restaurant has some wonderful local dishes the chef’s prepared for dinner.”
I perked up too. “Really? What kind of dishes?”
“A blend of Indian and Colonial—”
“Tea sounds perfect.” Matt took my elbow and steered me away. “Send it to our room. We’ll eat there.”
“What’s your rush, Master Northe?” I pulled my arm away from Matt. We crossed the small lobby and bypassed a narrow elevator to go up carpeted, wooden stairs. I lowered my voice and asked, “What’s a memsahib?”
“I think the translation is ‘rich European married woman.’”
“I’m not European,” I sniffed. “And right now, I’m dirt broke.”
“You’re also not married—”
“If you tell me I’m not a woman, I’m going to hit you,” I retorted.
“I haven’t said anything,” he said with a straight face.
I didn’t believe him at all. Rustic wooden tables and oil landscapes lined the long hallway on the second floor. The dark color of the wood made the space seem smaller, and suddenly I became acutely aware that Matt and I were essentially alone. To break the silence, I asked, “Why are we using Vane’s name?”
“I have a credit card in his name he doesn’t know about.”
“What? How?”
Matt shrugged. “Just because I don’t like to use technology doesn’t mean I can’t.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Grey helped you, didn’t he?”
“I don’t reveal my sources,” he deadpanned, stopping so suddenly I almost ran into him. “Does it bother you, Mrs. Northe?”
It did. Worse, it pulled at me. A gut-wrenching smack in the face of what might have been. And here I was—standing in the middle of a strange country with someone who looked so much like Vane. I said softly, “Would you like to be called by your ex-girlfriend’s name?”
“You’re my only ex-girlfriend,” he replied.
The long hallway