little cabin on a remote peak in the Alps. She laughed again, more naturally this time. “Yes. Once the wedding is over you can resume your explorations, to new summits of all kinds, and I’ll be with you, of course, to mend the mosquito netting and pick the wildflowers.”
“Vida,” Fitzhugh said as they reached the edge of the dance floor. He led them through a doorframe and into a quiet hall.
“Why do you keep saying my name like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I am a child that must be managed.”
“I hardly think you are a child. But I do need you to listen carefully. And understand. I am the sole heir of the Farrar shipping concern, and it would be unseemly for me to risk my life adventuring all over the place. I am needed in New York, to oversee the business. My life is here now.” He grasped her hands and met her eyes with an expression of urgent and—she couldn’t help but think—humorless conviction. “Our life. You understand?”
“Yes,” Vida repeated like a bright student, although the way he was staring at her made her feel rather like he were the man in charge of ticket sales for the Farrar Line and she was a customer being rushed into buying a first-class ticket she did not at all need. “Yes, I understand. I just feel a little faint.”
“Do you need some air?”
“Yes—and to be alone for a minute.” If she could be alone for a moment, could master herself, she could be the woman Fitz expected her to be. “I’ll be back soon.”
Fitz nodded, he smiled in his rakish way. “All right. Don’t be gone long.”
It took a great deal of maneuvering through crowds to find a place that offered fresh air and was not already populated by cigar smokers.
Then, as she was trying to find her way to the servants’ quarters, to someplace private and quiet, she saw Sal, moving away from her down a hallway, like he was always moving away from her.
“Wait!” she called. She glanced behind her to make sure no one had heard, then she called out again, louder this time.
He paused reluctantly, as though realizing he couldn’t escape. When he turned, his expression was serious—though a momentary smile flickered across his face when their eyes met. Then it was serious again, almost weary.
“What now?” he asked.
“I was just trying to find a quiet place not full of people shouting to be heard, with a little night air. Can you help me?”
His eyes searched the ceiling. “There are a hundred servants here who could help you better than I could.”
Vida didn’t think that was true. She wanted to say so, but knew she shouldn’t. “Why do you keep running away from me?” she asked instead.
“Why?” He smiled again, but sadly this time. He glanced over her shoulder, then back at her. “I don’t think you really need to be told why. I had a strong feeling for you. I can’t have that feeling now. You’re different. You aren’t who I thought you were.”
The clatter of metal platters falling somewhere close by startled Vida. She was aware of her surroundings—of the chandeliers, but also of the large staff. I had a strong feeling, Sal had said. She hadn’t known he would be so direct. She wanted him to tell her everything. She was afraid, too. Her pulse raced. Anyone might have heard. “Shhh,” she whispered. “Don’t,” she said. “You offend me. I’m not different. But that was a different place. We have to forget it.”
“Yes.” Sal gave her a curt little nod. “I know. That’s why we should not talk.”
He was gone before she could think better of what she had said. Then she was alone in the grand hall. Her throat pained her, but not as much as her heart. Her heart was a field of anguish. She held her belly, wishing she could tear all her frippery off her body.
Twenty-Eight
“Oh, Vida darling, listen to what Dame Edna has written about you now,” said Mother from her side of the breakfast table, which was topped with marble, and then with every imaginable pastry.
This mention of her name in the press did arouse a curiosity in Vida, but perhaps not with the naughty pride it might have before—a fact which she tried to tell herself was on account of the excess of champagne she’d imbibed last night. At the current moment Vida was spread across the chaise of the salon in their hotel suite, a cool compress