The Long Path Home - Ellen Lindseth Page 0,37

things will be plenty exciting soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Her travel buddy sat up. “You know what would be grand? If we could practice our dances in front of the sailors. Except”—she collapsed back onto the deck—“fat chance of that. The captain won’t even let us be on the same deck with them!”

“Which is for our own safety, Marce. There are several thousand of them, if you include the soldiers belowdecks, and only seven of us women, if you include Sue. The last thing he wants is a riot.” Not to mention the no-fraternization edict also reduced the chances of someone recognizing her as Lily Lamour, something that still worried her, though the fear faded with each passing day.

“Luciana doesn’t seem afraid,” Marcie said a bit peevishly.

Vi frowned as she reached for the long-sleeved shirt she had borrowed from Gertie. She hoped that wherever they landed would have ready-made clothing for sale. She was so tired of wearing other people’s things. “Why would you say that? And what’s your beef with Luciana, anyway? You’re always cuttin’ her.”

Marcie shoved a sweaty lock of hair out of her face. “Obviously you didn’t see her yesterday morning, taking private shooting lessons from the captain himself. Bet that wasn’t his only pistol she was looking to handle.”

Vi let the dig at Luciana slide, more struck, and even a little impressed, that the dark-haired actress had thought to ask for shooting instruction. “You know, becoming more at ease with a gun, considering how we will be touring in a war zone, doesn’t seem all that unreasonable. What we learned at Camp Kilmer was pretty rudimentary.”

“It wasn’t the lesson I object to but how it was conducted,” Marcie said darkly. “The two of them all cozied up and smiling. Good thing she’s through with Wyatt or there would’ve been trouble.”

Vi gave her friend the side-eye. “You’re jealous!”

“And why shouldn’t I be?” Marcie gestured toward the sailors who were hanging over the railing on the upper deck, ogling them. “A whole ship full of men and I can’t even smile at one without being reprimanded.”

“You don’t have to smile.” Vi glanced up and winked at the men, earning a cheer. The flirtatious side of her preened a bit at the attention. “Just be yourself: sweet, innocent.”

“Easy for you to say. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how men fall all over themselves when you’re around. You and Luciana, both.” Marcie plopped back onto the deck with a sigh. “I’m blaming my parents. They never left me unsupervised around anything male, so I never got a chance to practice . . . well, men-attracting things!”

“They probably wanted to protect you.”

“Yeah, by making me so clumsy and awkward around men I will never find one on my own,” Marcie said glumly.

Vi laughed. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m not kidding! My parents are relics from the eighteenth century, I swear. In their eyes ‘good girls’ marry whomever the family picks out for them, love be damned.” Marcie flung her hand out. “I’m nothing more than a pawn, someone to find an advantageous match for in order to bolster the family fortunes. I swear they all dream of becoming Rockefellers or Kennedys or Vanderbilts. Except they don’t really approve of those families, either, because they aren’t . . . well, not enough like us.”

Vi made a sympathetic noise, having seen firsthand how cliquish the Mafia was. Nor was she surprised to learn that Marcie’s parents had had a strict sense of what societal success meant. All parents did, as far as Vi could tell.

Growing up as the daughter of a respected, well-liked banker, as well as a veritable pillar of the community, had come with its own set of expectations around decorum and public behavior. Her parents had made it very clear that their girls should be well behaved, do well in school, and then find matrimonial happiness with a steady, responsible man. Working for a living wasn’t expected or even encouraged, unless it was meant to be a hobby and didn’t take away from time with the family.

Oddly, she had never questioned the mismatch between her parents’ goals and her own of being a Broadway star. That Marcie had was one more thing to admire about the girl, even if it did sting to hear her complaints about having to get married when Vi likely no longer had that option. Not with her past.

And why was it that one didn’t truly value an opportunity until it was taken away?

With a sigh, she looked up

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