Eight
Grunewald was grand. Plush red chairs provided seats for wary travelers or those wishing to mingle with other guests. My heels tapped on the floors as we walked past a large Italian marble staircase that led to an overlooking mezzanine level. Elizebeth led us beneath a red awning and through a hallway with a low domed ceiling.
″The Cave is in the annex,” she called over her shoulder.
The annex included not just The Cave but the Forest Grill, The Lounge, and The Fountain Grill. Diners were still enjoying their food and cocktails at the restaurant before a night of music and dancing. Gas lanterns hung low over the tables, providing dim lighting that set a romantic atmosphere.
″It’s beautiful in here,” I remarked softly.
Only Charles heard me, and he smiled. “I agree.”
Elizebeth stopped and motioned for us to stay back. She approached a man in a black three-piece suit whose frame filled the entryway. The two spoke in low voices. After a brief exchange, he opened the door behind him and nodded. Elizebeth gestured us forward, and the five of us descended a dimly lit staircase.
″What is this place?” Molly asked.
″I told you, it is called The Cave. It is the nightclub in New Orleans. I cannot believe it did not occur to me before that Richard would choose to spend his last night of drunken debauchery here,″ the alchemist called over her shoulder.
A young woman in a dress shorter and tighter than Molly’s greeted us at the bottom of the stairs.
″We will need two tables, preferably not too close together,” Elizebeth informed her.
The woman didn’t find the request weird at all.
″Of course,” the woman said with a bright smile.
Gaige stepped forward and gestured to Charles. “We’re breaking up into guys and gals.”
Charles turned to me. “I’ll see you soon.” His eyes glinted in the dim light, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me. I wanted that too, but it wasn’t the time.
Our gazes locked. “You’ve got this,” I assured him.
Charles settled for a quick squeeze of my shoulder before joining Gaige.
The young woman showed them through another, very heavy door. Jazz music and laugher washed over me like a wave. Just as quickly as the tide had come out, it went back in when the door shut behind the guys.
I turned to Molly. “You ready?”
She nodded. “Locked up tight.”
The hostess returned, bringing another wave of jazz. “Right this way, ladies.”
I’d been to all sorts of bars and nightclubs in various time periods, including my home time, yet I’d never seen anything quite like The Cave. Designed to mimic a cavern, the nightclub had waterfalls, stalactites and stalagmites, and statutes of gnomes and nymphs that reminded me a little of Flamel’s statue gardens at Versailles. The hostess showed us to a glass-topped table.
″Patti will be right over,” she told us. “Enjoy your night at The Cave.”
″Thank you,” Elizebeth said.
A line of chorus girls danced to the jazz band not far from where we sat. I scanned the faces at the nearby tables but didn’t see either of our targets. Smoothing my hair, one finger brushed across my earpiece to link to the guys.
″Gaige?” I asked, looking at Molly as though she and I were having a conversation.
″I’m here. Nothing so far,” he replied.
A waiter appeared to take our drink orders.
″Gin Fizzes all around,” Elizebeth spoke up.
Once the waitress left, she turned to Molly and me. “We will sip a drink here, and then we can try another establishment if Richard doesn’t turn up,” Elizebeth declared, as though she was leading this run. “There are more bars along Canal we have yet to try.”
The gin fizzes arrived, looking suspiciously frothy. I took a tentative sip and frowned.
″Not to your liking?” Elizebeth arched an eyebrow.
″No. It’s not bad. Weird, though.” I took another sip. “Definitely weird. But good, I think.”
Elizebeth laughed. “It is not my favorite, either. I prefer my drinks without so much fanfare.”
″Give me a scotch on the rocks any day,” Molly interjected.
The band switched songs, and the line of scantily clad chorus girls changed to a different dance.
I did another scan of the crowd and pretended to enjoy my citrusy gin fizz. A man two tables over stood and gave a deep bow to his female companion. He held out a hand, which she took, and the two began to dance. Several other club-goers followed their lead. Cigarette girls wove between the tables and dancers to offer their goods.
When the bands changed songs again, the crowd around us began to clap, and more people stood to dance.
″Is this normal?” I asked Elizebeth.
She shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”
One of the dancing couples bumped our table when the very drunk man tried to dip his very drunk girlfriend. The duo laughed it off.
″Excuse us,” the man apologized.
Elizebeth smiled. “It is no problem.”
I tapped my earpiece discreetly. “Gaige, Charles, what’s going on over there, anything?” I asked.
″We still got nothing,” Gaige replied.
″Wait,” Charles interjected. “At the door. I think that’s Fitzgerald. He’s with another man.”
All three of us turned to look at the door, which wasn’t suspicious at all. The two men were young. One had vaguely familiar deep-set eyes and a furrowed brow. Fitzgerald, I thought. The other had an impish grin and mischievous twinkle in his eyes. And you must be Richard, I decided.
″There they are,” Elizebeth confirmed, sounding both relieved and smug that The Cave had been the right call.
This is it. Please let Richard be more open than his brother, I thought to myself, trying to project good thoughts into the universe. We needed all the help we could get.
The hostess sat Richard and Fitzgerald at table far from ours, and I lost sight of them in the crowd.
″Okay, we’ve got them over here,” Gaige said. “They’re cattycorner. One table between us and them. We’ll give them a minute to settle in. They’re both drunk and talking loudly. I’ll engage, stand by.”
What a lucky coincidence, I thought.
Then I saw Elizebeth’s smug smile. I narrowed my eyes. “Did you bribe the doorman to sit them next to Gaige and Charles?”
″I might have asked if Richard and Scott arrived to have them seated near the men,” she replied. “And if a little money changed hands, well that is how alchemists do business.”
That was very true. Part of the alchemists′ job was to ease the way for runners. Bribes were common. I was impressed that Elizebeth had managed the transaction so discreetly; even I hadn’t seen her give the doorman money.
″I thought we were keeping Chuck away from Fitzgerald,” Molly interjected. “Should I head over? I could fall into his lap or something.”
″Let’s give Gaige a few minutes,” I replied. “We should be able to listen to whatever Fitzgerald and Richard are saying.”
″Scott is likely too intoxicated by this point to remember anything tomorrow,” Elizebeth added.
I tapped my earpiece twice so that I could hear everything on the guys′ end more clearly. After stumbling over to join the newcomers, Gaige was talking about some poem he’d supposedly read in the newspaper. He slurred some of his words, purposely trying to appear drunk.
Charles corrected Gaige on the name of the poem, but that avenue didn’t pan out like expected. Neither Fitzgerald nor Richard engaged in further discussion.
″I wish I could see what’s happening,” I muttered.
Molly sipped her gin fizz. She made a face. I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t a huge fan.
″They can do this,” she assured me.
If we were trying to get close to someone in order to steal their diamonds or something, I wouldn’t have been so keyed up. But this run wasn’t so simple. We didn’t usually have conversations about time travel with non-alchemists in public settings. In fact, we never did.
Gaige must’ve been impatient too, because I heard a chair scraping the floor. A few seconds later, there was a clattering sound. Then Gaige said, “Sorry about that.” He giggled like a school kid. “I trip over my own feet all the time. Or maybe just when I’ve had one too many.”
Two men laughed. My pulse picked up.
″Or one too few,” a male voice replied.
Elizebeth, Molly, and I pretended to be entranced by the music as we eavesdropped. I played with the straw in my drink, twirling it around to stir the drink unnecessarily.
″Tonight, there is no such thing as one too few,” a different male voice added.
Glasses clinked.
″You are my kind of gentlemen,” Gaige said.
″Where are you off to in such hurry?” one of the men asked, his British accent faint but noticeable. Edward had almost shed his accent completely, but it seemed Richard’s was still present.
″I had wanted to ask that lass over there for a dance, but it looks like she found a partner,” Gaige replied.
I turned to Elizebeth. “Please tell me ‘lass’ is something people say,” I groaned.
She chuckled. “Not exactly, though it’s not unheard of in parts of the country.”
My eyes shifted to Molly, and she nodded. “That’s why you don’t send in a man to do a girl’s job.” She shrugged off the wrap that hung around her shoulders and stood. Men and women turned to stare as she strode confidently through the crowd.
Molly was like a queen among her subjects, and the peasants cleared a path for their sovereign. It helped that a majority of the patrons were men. But even a few of the women were openly admiring my roommate. Most were glaring, envious that she effectively soaked up all the attention in the room like a sponge without ever opening her painted red lips.
Through the earpiece, I heard Gaige say something about a trip he’d once taken to New York. Of course, Gaige had been to New York in our time, but we’d never been to historic New York on a run. So, each time Fitzgerald threw out a place he’d eaten, Gaige just pretended like he knew exactly what the other man was talking about. He basically just nodded and said things like. “so good!”
″You all are very skilled,” Elizebeth told me.
″Runners go through a lot of training,” I pointed out.
″Learn to take a compliment, Stassi,” she said with a frown. “We are not the busiest customs station, but I have aided in my share of runs since I joined the order of alchemists. I have met a dozen runners. They do not work nearly as well under pressure, and they are fully prepared. Some crack if they need to improvise. You all work very well together.”
There was a commotion loud enough that I could hear it without the earpiece, topped off with the sound of shattering glass. Both Elizebeth and I startled. Then I heard Molly mutter, “Damned heels.” In a louder, clearer voice, she added, “Apologies.”
″Miss, are you okay?” a new voice asked.
″Thank you, I can dab at my own breasts,” Molly fired back, feigning offense. Well, she was probably really offended, if some guy was trying to touch her, even if he was trying to help.
″I am sorry, miss.”
″The liquid was clear, it won’t stain. No lasting harm,” Molly told the man who I was that seemed to be a waiter.
″You sure you’re alright?” the voice I thought was Fitzgerald asked.
″Me?” Molly laughed loudly. “Are you alright? I just flopped into your lap like a dead fish.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. When she had suggesting falling into Fitzgerald’s lap, I hadn’t thought she meant literally.
″Or a present from the heavens,” Fitzgerald replied. “Stay, have a drink with us. We were just about to invite this gentleman, as well.”
I assumed by “this gentleman,” he meant Gaige. Which I was sure made Gaige’s night.
″How about a dance first?” Molly countered.
Plenty of couples had taken to the dance floor. Three men were trying to imitate the chorus line girls, which was not a pretty sight. Fitzgerald considered the question.
″It’s the least you can do,” Molly added, a note of challenge in her voice.
I smiled. She was playing Fitzgerald masterfully; I knew enough about his future wife to know Fitzgerald’s type.
″The least I can do?” Fitzgerald laughed. “You fell on me, so I think you’re the one who owes me a dance.”
″If you hadn’t been in the way, I wouldn’t have fallen at all. So, you owe me a dance,” Molly volleyed. I could imagine her cocking a hip and staring at him as if to say, “Your move.” My roommate was a pro.
″What sort of man would I be if I didn’t pay my debts?” Fitzgerald replied.
A few moments later, I watched over the top of Elizebeth’s head as Molly led a laughing Scott Fitzgerald to the dance floor.
″He is enchanted with her. You can hear it in his voice,” Elizebeth chimed in. “How did she know to be so forward?”
″That’s just her personality,” I replied. “Well, that and I’ve met Zelda—the future Mrs. Fitzgerald. She’s very outspoken. And a little unhinged.” I shrugged. “Fitzgerald is already madly in love with her, this is just a dance for him.”
Elizebeth pursed her lips. “History paints many outspoken women as unhinged.”
″Zelda is more the type that throws herself down the stairs because she’s jealous her husband is talking to another woman,” I clarified. “Not the type that attends equality rallies.”
″Oh, I see,” Elizebeth answered, her eyes widening. “That’s quite different.”
Through the earpiece, I heard Richard say, “There goes my drinking partner for the night.”
″Join me and my friend.” Gaige offered. “We’re visiting on business and don’t know a soul. It would be a damned shame for a man to drink alone tonight.”
″Why not?” Richard replied jovially.
Gaige led the prince back over to where Charles still sat and made introductions.
″You said you gentlemen are in town on business; what sort of business?” Richard asked conversationally.
″We work for a shipping company that makes several stops along the Mississippi River. We’re here to make sure the goods are arriving the same way they left,” Gaige lied smoothly. “We’ve had more complaints than are typical lately.”
I absently sipped my gin fizz, the taste sort of growing on me. Really, I just wanted to appear busy and there weren’t a lot of other things to do with my hands.
″Are you a New Orleans native, Richard?” Charles asked. There was the sound of ice clinking in a glass, and I imagined him taking a drink. Charles had a faint British accent that had suddenly grown much more pronounced.
″Nah, I’m from merry old England. Same as you, by the sound of it,” Richard replied.
Elizebeth and I exchanged a smile. This was already going better than our encounter with Edward.
″You caught me,” Charles laughed.
″Whereabouts in England?” Richard asked.
″London,” Charles answered smoothly. “You?”
Our plan was falling into place; we’d hoped that if Richard heard Charles’ accent, it might spark a conversation. Unfortunately, that was as much of a backstory as we’d rehearsed. We wanted to make Richard feel at ease before the guys accused him of being a time-traveling European prince. I was quickly realizing, however, that Charles might have to fib his way through a lot before Richard let his guard down.
″I spent some time in London, mostly stayed in the country though. Our family moved here when I was about ten,” Richard replied, his lies coming off smooth and rehearsed.
Unlike Edward, the younger prince wasn’t as keen to share the tragic reason for the move across the pond. After the way Edward had flipped into defensive mode when we mentioned his birth parents, we wanted to take things slowly and carefully with Richard.
Gaige did what he did best and brought the conversation around to himself. He started talking about a trip he’d once taken to France on business, which was stable ground since most of what he was saying was true.
″We had a dealing with a French businessman, and my sister just wanted to make eyes at the cute guy. She has no head for business,” Gaige declared.
Someone at their table must have flagged down a server, because suddenly Richard was ordering a round of drinks. The band switched songs again, and more people headed to the dance floor. A tall, lanky man stepped up to our table and offered me his hand.
″No, thank you,” I replied dismissively. ”I don’t dance.”
″Who doesn’t dance?” the man countered. “I’m sure you’re better than you think.”
″I’m fine right here,” I tried again.
The man started to protest further, and then Elizebeth smiled sweetly up at him. “You’re just embarrassing yourself, dear. Begging is very unappealing to young women.”
The man went red in the face and stomped away.
Elizebeth and I sat and listened as Gaige, Charles, and Richard started trading drunken stories. I knew a lot of the ones Gaige told, because I had been present. I distinctly remembered the night he managed to catch his hat on fire and jumped into a fountain to put it out. Only, no alcohol had been involved. Charles shared about one night at school when he’d fallen from his second-story room into the flower bed below while trying to sneak back inside through the window. The little details he included made me think the debacle was true.
The waiter came by and switched out our watered-down drinks for fresh gin fizzes, sent over by a woman two tables over. I noticed the man that Elizebeth had embarrassed sitting next to her, and I cringed. The two had the same long nose and wide-set eyes, leading me to draw the conclusion they were related. The woman smiled as she raised her own drink in toast.
I tuned out the guys in favor of Molly’s conversation with Fitzgerald. As soon as I switched over, I heard something that made me giggle. “Zelda sounds absolutely divine. I don’t see what the trouble is.”
I flipped back to Gaige and Charles. “Gaige, you’re going to need to move this along. Molly can’t keep him away forever.”
My roommate was the type of person who could keep a conversation going for hours, even if the topic was her companion’s romantic woes. Still, she’d brought Zelda up earlier than she should have. It had always been a part of the plan for Molly to work Fitzgerald’s future wife into the mix if it became essential.
Like any good runner, Gaige knew better than to react to the voices in his ear. Instead, he waited for an opening to segue the discussion in a different direction.
″After the trip to France, my sister and I paid a visit to London to check on more of our fathers’ investments,” he said.
″Now his family owns the shipping company he works for?” I muttered, giggling quietly.
At least Gaige appeared to be slipping back into the persona he’d used on our Paris run. Of course, that made me the sister with no head for business. Ass.
″We passed by the Tower,” Gaige continued.
Smooth, I thought dryly. It’s only been there forever.
″I got the same feeling there that I have here in New Orleans,” Gaige continued. “There’s a spooky energy in the air.”
″Your sister and I walked past a house in the Quarter that seemed to disturb her quite a lot,” Charles piped up. “It was a big gray building on a corner.”
″The LaLaurie Mansion,” Richard replied knowingly. “That place is a portal to hell.”
I raised my brows at Elizebeth.
″Madame LaLaurie was a horrid woman who committed awful crimes in that house.” Elizebeth said to me, shivering. “Pure evil.”
″What happened to her?” I asked softly.
″The vile wench fled to France before she could be arrested, and the mansion was set on fire by angry townspeople. The structure standing there now is not the original, but I do know what you mean by about a disturbing feeling. The very land is haunted by the souls she tortured.”
My stomach turned, and I really wished I hadn’t drank the gin. Vampires might have been fake, but the feeling I’d experienced outside of the LaLaurie Mansion had been very real.
″Your sister is in New Orleans with you?” Richard asked curiously, drawing me back to the conversation taking place across the club.
Charles swore beneath his breath.
″It’s okay,” I assured him. “You’re doing great. Gaige will make up something about me sleeping or being passed out in a street gutter.”
Unfortunately, Gaige heard my comment as well and repeated the words. “She’s passed out in a street gutter somewhere.”
The band chose that exact moment to take an intermission. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Molly and Fitzgerald leave the dance floor.
″Just a joke,” Gaige said in my ear.
″How disappointing,” Richard replied. “I should have liked to meet her.”
Molly and Fitzgerald disappeared from view.
″Fitzgerald’s going back to his table,” I informed the guys.
Gaige cleared his throat. “Looks like your friend is taken with that dark-haired vixen. Should we leave them alone a while longer?”
I looked at Elizebeth. “Is vixen a word people say?” I felt like Gaige was just throwing out terms from any time period, appropriateness be damned.
″You hear it on occasion,” she replied noncommittally.
With two taps, I flipped my Rosetta to listen in on Molly and Fitzgerald.
″Zelda is just showing you who she really is up front,” Molly was saying. “Most women wait until after a marriage. Don’t fool yourself into thinking we aren’t all just as demanding.”
Molly had the situation covered for the time being, I decided. Still, Charles and Gaige wouldn’t have all night. They did, as it turned out, have the next two hours. That was how long it took before Molly could no longer hold Fitzgerald’s interest. It had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the alcohol the one-day famous writer was tossing back. When I switched over to their conversation and heard him call Molly “Zelda,” I knew the guys were officially out of time. Gaige must’ve been listening to Molly and Fitzgerald too, or at least able to overhear the conversation from his table, because he moved forward with the interrogation. “You mentioned a brother, right? Where’s he tonight? He doesn’t imbibe?”
To my knowledge, Richard had not mentioned his brother. Apparently, the prince didn’t recall whether or not he’d done so, because he seemed confused by the question.
″Did I mention him?” Richard asked. “Odd.”
″I think you called him Edward,” Charles added helpfully.
There was a moment of brief silence before Richard said, “No. I wouldn’t have done that. Edward was our father’s name. I’ve called my brother Eddie since we arrived in New Orleans.”
″Did you know that?” I demanded of Elizebeth.
The color drained from her cheeks. “As boys, yes. I thought it would have changed when they became young men.”
I tried to temper my irritation. It wasn’t the alchemist’s fault; it was the sort of detail even a historian might have overlooked or ignored.
″Edward was not your father here in New Orleans, though,” Gaige said softly. “Your father back in England. Like, way back in England.”
While it was not an ideal approach, circumstance had left few options.
″What are you on about?” Richard demanded of my partner. He didn’t raise his voice, so there was no danger of a scene. Yet.
″You’re adopted, aren’t you?” Gaige pressed, voice calm and measured. “The Fontenots are not your birth parents.”
″Yes, I am aware that I was adopted. What does it matter?” Richard sounded flustered, and he slurred several of the words.
″We wanted to talk to you about the woman who arranged the adoption for you and your brother. Was her name Tessa?” Charles asked, mimicking Gaige’s tone.
″What of it?” Richard shot back. He still hadn’t raised his voice, but I detected anger beneath his bravado. Richard did not want to talk about Tessa.
″Did she give you and your brother a set of cufflinks?” Gaige asked.
There was a moment of tense silence. Elizebeth and I looked at one another across the table, silently debating whether we should intervene.
″Should we step in?” she asked me.
″I don’t know what the right move is here,” I admitted. “Let’s give them another minute. If we hear yelling, we’ll head over.”
There was a sound like a lighter flicking, followed by someone inhaling deeply. Since neither Gaige nor Charles smoked, I had to assume that Richard lit a cigarette.
″Who are you?” Richard demanded, sounding very much like a spoiled princeling. “Really, though, not your bullshit story.”
″My name really is Gaige, and he really is Charles,” Gaige began. “We’re from the Atlic Syndicate. The same organization Tessa worked for at one time.”
″I don’t want any trouble,” Richard replied uneasily. “I’m paid up with the Mistress. Like I told Carolla, I didn’t know that girl was his cousin. It was an honest mistake.”
Holding back a laugh at the assumption, I furrowed my brow at Elizebeth. “He thinks they are Sylvestro Carolla’s boys here to collect a debt,” she explained.
The word “syndicate” was often used in reference to crime families, so I understood the confusion.
″We aren’t mafia,” Charles assured the other man.
Not in the sense they know now, I thought with a wry smile.
″We don’t care about money that you do or don’t owe someone,” Gaige added. “Or what cousin you’ve been dallying with.”
″What is it that you want then?” Richard demanded.
″We just want to know anything at all you can tell us about Tessa,” Charles implored.
″I can’t tell you anything. She was just a woman,” Richard retorted.
Gaige sighed. “A woman who brought you from London to New Orleans after your parents died,” he clarified.
″What of it?” Richard asked again.
″Wait. I misspoke,” Gaige said evenly. “I meant to say, she’s the woman who brought you here after your father died. Your mother was still alive when you fled England.”
″She was in no position to care for us.” Richard’s tone was icy. “Not that it’s any business of yours.”
″Well, it sort of is our business,” Gaige replied. “That woman, Tessa, gave you and your brother a set of cufflinks that are part of a set of jewelry. My sister has the locket. Charles here has the pocket watch. So, let’s start over. What can you tell us about Tessa?”
″Guys,” Molly broke in on the earpiece. “Fitzgerald went to the bathroom. He plans to rejoin Richard once he’s done, I can’t hold him any longer.”
I made a snap decision. “Go with him,” I told Molly. “Insist on accompanying him to meet up with Richard. Gaige, press harder with the prince. I’d say you have about five minutes, give or take. Molly and Fitzgerald showing up will diffuse the situation. Just don’t let it get out of hand.”
I felt like I was sending mixed messages. Being the de facto team leader was hard. A part of me hoped that Elizebeth would step in with some nugget of sage advice or instruction. For once, she seemed at a loss.
″It is a good plan,” she began. When I shot a wry look in her direction, she hastily added, “given the circumstances.”
″Please, Richard,” Charles was saying in my ear. “Anything at all you can tell us about her might be helpful.”
″We are not here to mess with you,” Gaige tried, using what he considered a sympathetic tone. “We are just looking for information on Tessa.”
Richard’s accent was strong when he replied, his tone prim and proper. “I can’t help you. It would be best if you left now.”
I sighed heavily and placed my elbows on the glass table. I didn’t know if Richard was lying. Maybe, like Charles, he only had a brief encounter with Tessa. Maybe she had simply brokered the adoption, and someone else—a partner, perhaps—jumped the princes through time. But I needed to know for sure.
Both the guys had alluded to Richard about being from a different time, but neither had actually used the words “time travel” or “prince”. With the conversation at a standstill and nothing to lose, Gaige decided to throw caution to the wind
″Your father was Edward IV of England. Your mother was Elizabeth Woodville,” Gaige began softly. “In 1483, before your power-hungry asshole uncle could kill you and Eddie, someone jumped you through time. You landed here, in New Orleans, in 1908. How am I doing so far?”
My heart skipped a beat. Richard had indulged the conversation a lot longer than his brother, but time travel was still a hard concept to process. Even for those who’d experienced it. For all we knew, he could’ve thought the whole thing had been a hallucination worthy of commitment to an asylum.
The lighter flicked again.
″I am distantly related to the current royal family on my father’s side,” Richard replied, sticking to his cover story. “My mother was a wealthy American heiress who was the only child of a newspaper tycoon. My father was a penniless earl who needed a large influx of money if he wanted to keep our family’s country seat. Her fortune paid for the upkeep on the country home, as well as our family’s London residence. The Fontenots knew my great-aunt. That is why they took us in.”
Richard wasn’t as easy to crack as I’d hoped. He must have told that story a thousand times over the years. To friends. To relations. To schoolmates. Most importantly, to himself. Richard spoke as if he truly believed the words. It was a good story if no one looked too closely, though even minimal digging would have unraveled the loose threads.
″He’s back,” Molly cut in. “We’re on the move.”
We had seconds before the conversation was over, leaving time for only one more question.
″Ask him his birth parents’ names,” I coached Gaige, trying to trip Richard up.
″Wouldn’t that make your brother the current Earl of…?” Gaige trailed off.
″The Earl of Westerly,” Richard supplied. “And my mother was Susanna Filmore.”
″Richard, you devil,” Fitzgerald called jovially. “Have you replaced me entirely?”
I hung my head. It was over. For now, I had to remind myself. Unlike Edward, Richard had at least entertained our questions. There was still a chance to learn more about Tessa, we just needed to figure out a way to break him down.
″Why all the long faces?” Fitzgerald demanded. “It’s a night for celebration, frivolity, and debauchery. We shall clear those frowns right up.”
″Sadly, our new friends were just leaving,” Richard replied, an edge to his voice.
There was a clattering noise, and then Fitzgerald replied, “Not before the absinthe. It’s on the way.”
My body tensed, and I went cold all over.
″What are we celebrating?” Richard asked his friend.
″I have made a decision,” Fitzgerald announced. “I am going to ask Zelda to marry me.”
The shots must have arrived because I heard the clinking of glasses.
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.
″Stassi? Are you okay?” Elizebeth’s voice was brimming with concern.
I took a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Instead of sharing my fears with Elizebeth, I met her gaze and forced a smile.
″I’m fine. We should go before Richard has us thrown out.”