Hawthorn Page 11

  “What do you mean not done?” Daisy asked.

  Helen explained shipboard etiquette to Daisy as we walked around the promenade to the starboard side of the ship. “Mother and I sailed on her the summer before our first year at Blythewood. We had a suite on the top deck, where the most desirable ones are. Do you think your grandmother got us a suite? Oh look, this is the writing room.”

  We peeked inside a spacious room lushly appointed with rose-colored carpets and curtains, mahogany chairs and writing desks, and gray-and-cream brocade walls, all crowned with a glass dome. A few women sat alone writing or talking quietly in pairs.

  “That’s where the women sit after meals,” Helen said, dragging us away before anyone could take note of our disheveled appearance. “The men gather in the smoking room. Oh, here’s the music room.” We looked in through a window at an even larger and grander salon. It had a jade-green carpet with a yellow floral pattern and an enormous green marble fireplace. The barrel-vaulted skylight was made of stained-glass panels, each one representing a different month of the year.

  “Look, there’s Mr. Bellows!” Daisy cried, rapping on the window and waving.

  Mr. Bellows looked up and clapped the shoulder of the man he was talking to, who turned around. I almost didn’t recognize Sam Greenfeder in his checked three-piece suit and stylish hat. He’d grown into a mature man since the morning three years ago when as a young law student he’d flirted with my friend Tillie in Washington Square Park and then later helped the factory girls escape from the roof of the Triangle factory onto the roof of the law school building where he’d been attending class. I saw him lean over to say something to a slim woman in a navy-and-cream striped traveling suit and a straw hat crowned with a yellow plume. Then Agnes Moorhen was flying across the jade-green carpet, her freckled face beaming. She threw her arms around me first and then pulled Helen and Daisy into a group embrace.

  “Thank the Bells you made it aboard! When we didn’t see you at the dock we were afraid you hadn’t gotten away. Lillian and Vionetta said you’d get here.”

  “Are they on board, too?” Helen asked, looking around the lounge.

  “Yes, but Lillian felt seasick so they went straight to their cabin. They’re in second class—Vionetta insisted it would look strange for two schoolteachers to travel first class. But you should see the suite Mrs. Hall ordered for you girls. You probably want to go there now—”

  “Yes!” Helen said. “Please. Is our luggage there? Daisy really has to change.”

  Daisy crossed her eyes at Helen, but concurred. “People are staring at me and it will compromise our mission if we draw too much attention.”

  Agnes waved her hand to show us the way, but before I turned to follow I saw Daisy looking back at Mr. Bellows. “Is Mr. Bellows in second class as well?” she asked.

  Agnes snorted. “Rupert? No, he says he gets seasick below deck. Sam and I are up here, too, but only so we can keep an eye on you girls. We’ll all be dining together tonight, Vi and Lillian as our guests.”

  “Good,” Daisy said. “We’ll be able to discuss strategy.”

  For all her disregard of “fashion” Daisy squealed when she saw our suite. “It looks like the pictures of Versailles Mr. Bellows showed us when we were studying French history!”

  “I believe it was modeled on the Petit Trianon,” Helen said, “but it only has two bedrooms . . .”

  “Ava and I can share, can’t we, Ava?” Daisy asked, dancing into a lavish rose-and-gold bedroom. “There are two beds—oh, look at these clever built-in drawers!”

  “Do you mind sharing with Daisy?” Helen asked. “Marlin asked if I could meet him later and it would be easier . . . er, if I didn’t have a roommate . . . unless you needed your own room . . .” She faltered, face pink, and began fussing with the lock of her trunk.

  “What would I need my own room for—oh!” I colored. “You don’t mean . . .”

  “Honestly, Ava, you’re so old-fashioned. Darklings have different ideas about these things. They don’t always wait until marriage when a couple has pair-bonded. But if you don’t need a room to yourself . . .”

  “No!” I said a bit too vehemently.

  “Good,” Helen replied, without looking at me. “If you don’t mind I’ll take the first bath. My hair takes longer to dry than yours.”

  It was true I’d kept my hair short since most of it had burned up in a fire two years ago, but I thought Helen’s reason for locking herself in the suite’s only full bathroom was to keep me from asking more questions about her relationship with Marlin. Questions like, was she pair-bonded with him? And what exactly did it mean to be pair-bonded?

  Flustered, I went into Daisy’s and my bedroom and splashed water on my face in the half bath and then decided to wash my hair at the sink and take a sponge bath. When I came out, cleaner and cooler, I found that Daisy had unpacked both our trunks and laid out a dress for me.

  “I thought you’d like the green one; it brings out your eyes. I’m going to wear my rose silk. Ignatius says it brings out the color in my cheeks.” She held up a pink empire waist gown with a white lace overlay.

  “That will look pretty on you, Daze,” I told her, thinking that she didn’t need a pink dress to bring out the color in her cheeks; they already shone with excitement.

  Twenty minutes later I felt my own cheeks burning as I stood at the top of the grand staircase leading down into the first-class dining room. I hadn’t been anyplace so lavish since Georgiana Montmorency’s debut ball at her Fifth Avenue mansion. The stairwell was decorated in frosty white plaster and gold leaf like a fancy wedding cake. Bosomy pink-cheeked girls in green flowery bowers looked down from the stained-glass dome. Below us women in bright satin dresses surged through the dining room like tropical fish. For a moment I had the impression that they were tropical fish and that we were underwater. I closed my eyes to steady myself—and instead saw a horrible vision of the ship sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

  “Are you thinking of the Titanic?” Helen asked, laying a gloved hand on my back.

  I looked at her and noticed that her skin was pale against the midnight blue satin of her dress. “Yes, I suppose I am,” I said. “But this isn’t the Titanic.”

  “No, and the Darklings are flying guard to make sure we’re safe,” she said with a determined, brave smile.

  I smiled back and followed her down the staircase. She didn’t need to know that the image I’d had of a sunken ship hadn’t been of the Titanic; it had been of the Lusitania. I’d been having these visions since we came back from Faerie, shadows of the future. Perhaps the Lusitania sinking was part of that future that we were going to stop. I banished the image as we found our table and greeted our friends.

  Sam Greenfeder and Mr. Bellows leapt to pull out our chairs—and then both laughed when they realized that the chairs, bolted to the floor and designed to swivel, could not be pulled out. Daisy practically elbowed Helen out of the way to sit next to Mr. Bellows. Helen sat between Miss Sharp and Miss Corey and began asking them about how they were managing below deck. I sat between Agnes and Sam.

  “I hear my grandmother has hired you as her private lawyer,” I remarked to Sam when we’d all been seated. “She must think very highly of your abilities.”

  “Samuel scored the highest on the bar of his class,” Agnes enthused. “But he took the job because Mrs. Hall has agreed to fund all the pro bono work he wants to do for the labor unions.”

  “Really? My grandmother is supporting the labor unions?”

  “Oh yes!” Sam said. “Your experience at the Triangle has made her an adamant supporter of labor reform laws.” Sam went on to list the reforms that had been passed and the ones he was working on, which included shorter workweeks, child labor laws, and safer working conditions.

  “None of this will matter, though,” Miss Corey said, “if we don’t stop van Drood
from finding the third vessel.”

  The mention of van Drood’s name cast a sudden pall over the dinner table. The forkful of Supreme de Sole Palace I’d just put in my mouth turned to paste. As if by prearranged signal we all put down our forks and leaned in.

  “We still haven’t had any word from Scotland . . .”

  “Do you think it’s in Scotland . . .”

  “Professor Jager reports increased shadow activity in Vienna . . .”

  “Our intelligence in Belgium also says . . .”

  “What if we’re too late?”

  A chime brought all the whispers to a stop. Mr. Bellows struck his silver fish fork against his crystal wine goblet three times. “We must not give in to panic. We are taking what steps we must. Dolores and Bea are on their way to Vienna to join their father. Lillian and Vionetta will debark at Fishguard and go on to Paris to confer with the Order in France and Belgium. Agnes and Sam and I will go with the girls to Hawthorn Hall to find out why we haven’t heard from them and locate the vessel there. A Darkling guard will watch each party and ferry messages between us. If each of us does his or her part, then we will surely succeed. Now—the orchestra is playing my favorite waltz. Would any of you young ladies care to dance?” He looked around the table. “Daisy?”

  Daisy turned the color of her dress and nodded mutely.

  “Well,” Sam said, slapping his napkin on the table, “I’m not one to be outdone. Miss Moorhen, would you join me on the dance floor?”

  Agnes looked at Helen and me. “I don’t think we should leave the girls.”

  “I think the girls will be well taken care of.” He looked over my head with a sly smile. At the same moment I felt a hand touch my bare shoulder. A tremor ran down my spine, threatening to unleash my wings from their hiding place beneath my dress. I turned and looked up to see Raven and Marlin in smart black evening coats standing beside the table.

  “Might we be so bold as to ask the young ladies to dance?” Marlin asked, bowing to Miss Sharp.

  “For Bells’ sake!” she declared. “Do before Helen bursts a corset stay. She’s been kicking my shins tapping her foot to the beat for the last five minutes.”

  Helen glared at Miss Sharp but quickly smiled when Marlin held out his hand for her, and she swiveled out of her chair so quickly I thought she might be the one to sprout wings as they joined the couples on the dance floor. Raven looked down at me, one eyebrow raised. The moment I put my hand in his I felt myself rising weightless to my feet as if we were underwater. We floated across the dining room to the liquid strains of the Blue Danube waltz.

  “I didn’t know you’d be on board the ship,” I said as we swept past a beaming Daisy and Mr. Bellows.

  “Did you think we’d roost like albatrosses in the rigging?”

  I blushed. “No—”

  “We’ve taken third-class accommodations, nothing so fancy as your suite, but it will do to keep an eye on things.”

  “And are you finding anything to keep an eye on?” I asked, noticing the way his eyes were roving over the bare shoulders of the women on the dance floor.

  “Rats,” he answered.

  I shuddered. “Rats?”

  “There are always rats on a ship but I’m afraid these creatures might be shadow-ridden.”

  I shuddered again, the image of a shadow-ridden rat even more disgusting than the garden variety.

  “Don’t worry. Marlin and I are hunting them down.”

  “Is that why you’re staying in third class? I thought it might be . . . well . . . Helen said . . . she seemed to think Marlin might . . .”

  I stuttered to a stop and Raven stared at me. “What are you trying to say, Ava?”

  “Nothing, it’s just, well, Marlin and Helen seem to be getting along very well.”

  Raven tilted his head, clearly perplexed. “They do. I only hope Helen’s not trifling with him.”

  “Trifling? Helen’s not some flibbertigibbet!”

  “She’s not? It hurt Marlin’s feelings when she went off to Europe with Nathan. He might seem like a carefree clown but he’s not. He liked a Blythewood girl before and she toyed with him.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that. Who was it?”

  “He’s never said. I didn’t even know about it until last year. He only met her a few times and then she stopped coming to see him without a word of explanation. He thinks she was only playing at liking him—as an adventure of sorts—and was scared off when she realized he was getting serious about her. It hurt his feelings terribly. I’d hate to see that happen to him again.”

  “Of course,” I said, relenting. “I do think Helen really cares for him and that it’s better that Helen’s with Marlin.” Seeing that Raven was confused I blurted out, “I’m afraid Nathan might be shadow-ridden.” I told him what van Drood had said to me in the woods and what Daisy had told me on the boat.

  “If he is we could be walking into a trap. Perhaps one of us should go ahead and scout out Hawthorn Hall.”

  “We don’t know for sure—and it would be dangerous for you and Marlin to split up—and besides, I don’t want you to go!” I said in a rush.

  Raven tightened his grip on me and waltzed me out an open door to the promenade. He quickly whisked me into a secluded alcove between two lifeboats. “I don’t want to go either.” Then he kissed me. So hard I felt the boat swaying beneath us and wondered if this is what it would feel like to drown. When he let me go he looked into my eyes. “I was afraid that you might love Nathan.”

  “No—at least not in that way. But I do love him as a friend, and if van Drood has taken control of him I’ll fight to free him.”

  Raven’s arm around my waist tightened, his eyes grown fierce. “I will fight to save him, too—because you care about him.”

  “Thank—” I began, but Raven touched his fingers to my mouth, silencing me.

  “But if he can’t be saved and he poses a risk to you, I won’t hesitate to kill him.”

  12

  I DIDN’T TELL Helen what Raven said; I didn’t dare. Besides, I barely saw her the rest of the voyage. Raven and I spent our nights flying over the ocean, scouting for ice giants (although it wasn’t the season for them) and sea monsters. Really, it was an excuse to stretch my wings and be with Raven—and avoid paying attention to what time Marlin left Helen’s room.

  If Daisy noticed that I was out all night and Marlin was sneaking in and out of Helen’s room, she didn’t say anything about it. She spent her evenings in a corner of the writing room, head bent over maps and train schedules with Mr. Bellows, planning the quickest routes between Hawthorn Hall and the other possible locations for the third vessel. “So we can marshal our forces quickly when we need to,” she said at dinner one night.

  “Daisy has a keen brain for military strategy,” Mr. Bellows remarked. “She’d make a fine general.”

  “Let’s hope she gets to use her skills in more peaceful pursuits,” Miss Sharp remarked, her gaze resting gravely on Daisy.

  Although I was anxious to get to Hawthorn Hall to find out what had happened to Nathan I was sorry the night that Raven and I, flying guard, spotted land.

  “Ireland,” Raven said. “Shall we have a look?”

  We flew over rugged cliffs and sleeping fishing villages clinging to the rocky shore like barnacles and green hills swathed in mist. Deep in the hollows of these hills we passed a stone circle where tiny creatures danced. A few lifted their heads to watch our passing.

  “Cluricaunes,” Raven said. “The Elders tell us that the hills of Ireland used to be full of them, but it looks like there are only a few left.”

  The cluricaunes, who resembled small wizened men and women, stared up at us with looks of amazement and wonder that made me think that their elders must have also told them of the days when Darklings filled the skies.

  We flew farther east an
d landed at a lighthouse on a rocky headland jutting into the sea. Raven stood at the parapet looking east. At first I couldn’t see what he was looking at, but then I made out a faint flickering light far out across the sea. “What is it?” I asked.

  “A signal from St. David’s Head in Wales,” Raven answered. “In the old days that’s how we communicated across great distances. There was a system of watchtowers along the coasts. This lighthouse, called Hook Head now, was built at the site of one of the old watchtowers. There was one across the sea in Wales at St. David’s Head. There’s nothing but rubble there now, but someone has built a bonfire. It’s a signal.”

  “Meaning what?” I asked, hugging myself against the sea wind.

  “Meaning danger,” Raven replied. “Come on, we need to get back to the ship. We’ll reach port in Fishguard today. We have to warn the others.”

  Raven took off into the air, wheeling west on the sea wind, but I lingered for a moment looking east, where the sun was just coming up, giving me my first glimpse of Britain. As the sun rose, the coastline was limned with orange light, as if a thousand watchtowers had been lit warning of disaster. What good did it do to warn our friends, I wondered as I took flight, when we were heading there anyway?

  We landed at Fishguard later that afternoon. The stop had been added to the Lusitania’s route so that passengers could take the Great Western Railway directly to London and then on to the Continent. Miss Sharp and Miss Corey would travel as far as London to consult with the Order’s office and then on to Paris. We had told them about the watchtower signal on St. David’s Head and they had promised to take every precaution. Still, as I watched them walking down the gangplank to shore, arm in arm, Miss Sharp’s violet plume waving bravely in the stiff wind, I felt a rising apprehension. I knew it made sense for them to be stationed on the Continent so they could reach the third vessel more quickly once we’d learned of its location, but I didn’t like the feeling that we were splitting up. I liked it less when Helen clutched my arm and pointed to something in the water. I looked down and saw something swimming from the ship to the pier. I watched, horrified, as black shapes oozed out of the water and slithered up the piles onto the pier. Rats. Giant black rats with red eyes. And they were following Miss Corey and Miss Sharp.