Behind a Lady's Smile (18 page)

“And here is Genevieve Hayes,” Madeline said, almost as if she were the narrator of a play introducing the main character.

Robert tried not to let his jaw drop to his chest, but never in his life had he seen a woman quite as lovely as the one he was looking at. She smiled brilliantly at him, full of poise and grace as she walked toward him and extended one gloved hand.

“I’m so pleased you could come today, Mr. Tish. I must admit I was a bit reticent about sharing my story. It’s such a personal thing. But I’ll be leaving tomorrow for England and Mrs. Campbell assures me the story won’t run in your newspaper until long after we’re gone. Is that correct?”

Robert swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled again and Mr. Campbell chuckled, as if he knew what was happening to Robert. He gave himself a mental shake, reminding himself why he was in the room, and pulled out his pencil and pad. When everyone was seated, Robert dropped onto a large ottoman, which was positioned so that he could see all three at once.

“What would you like to know, Mr. Tish?” Miss Hayes asked, her head tilted slightly in curiosity. She had the loveliest voice, her accent cultured and clearly British.

“Why are you going to England? My editor gave me only the barest details, you see.”

Miss Hayes looked at Mr. Campbell before saying, “It’s a long story. I do hope you have time.”

Two hours later, the lemonade long forgotten and diluted by the last of the previous winter’s ice, Robert put his pencil down. He’d heard the story, he’d seen the letters from the Duke of Glastonbury, obviously authentic, and he had the best tale he’d ever heard, never mind had the privilege to write. They’d even shown him the telegram they’d received from the duke, expressing his happiness that he’d soon be seeing his granddaughter for the first time.

And more amazing? He had actually read the account of the train robbery in the
Times
. Here he was, sitting in the same room as the woman who’d helped to foil the crime.

“Do you have everything you need?” Mrs. Campbell asked, the smile on her face telling him that she knew what a wonderful story he had.

“Yes, ma’am, I do. I want to thank you all for your time and for sharing your story with me.”

“I’ll walk you to the door, shall I?” Madeline asked.

Robert was nearly giddy. He could not believe what he had stumbled upon. Just as Mrs. Campbell was closing the door, she said to him, “I know this is a story about Miss Hayes, but if you could give me a prominent role, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“I’ll certainly see what I can do, Mrs. Campbell. I know I wouldn’t have gotten this story without your help. I’ll make sure it’s clear I’m grateful.”

She smiled, and it struck Robert at that moment that in her day, this woman would have been a rare beauty. “Thank you. I look forward to reading it.”

Robert had a definite bounce in his step as he walked toward the corner where he could get a horse car. This story was going to make his career, and it was far too good to run in his tiny rag of a newspaper. To hell with the
Herald
. He was going to the
Times
with this one.

 

Genny slumped back into her seat as soon as Mr. Tish left the apartment. “I’m exhausted,” she said to no one in particular.

Madeline came back into the room, beaming a smile. “My goodness, Genny, you were wonderful. So charming. So amusing. Where did you get such talent? You would be wonderful on the stage, my dear, just wonderful.”

“Genny has a way about her, that’s for sure,” Mitch said, but it didn’t sound like a compliment. “She can wrap a man around her little finger without his even knowing it.”

Madeline laughed. “I’ve never seen a man fall in love so quickly as Mr. Tish. You shall do very well in England,” she said. “Who knew you had that in you? It was like watching a performance.”

Madeline was looking at her as if she’d never seen her before. And Mitch? He was frowning. “I do have a talent for putting people at ease,” Genny said, and even she knew it was false modesty. She had a talent for making men do what she wanted. Every man with one glaring exception. As soon as she had that thought, she felt bad. Mitch was right. She
knew
he was right, but it still stung, the way he’d walked away from her when all she’d wanted was to dance.

Liar. She’d wanted a kiss. She’d wanted him to hold her, to feel his large, warm body wrap around her. Just the thought made her flush.

“How’d
I
do?” Tillie asked, hands on her hips.

Genny chuckled. “Oh, don’t be like that, Tillie. It’s a lot easier to have a man go all spoony on you if you’re wearing a dress like this and have such pretty hair, thanks to your extraordinary talents.”

Tillie seemed appeased. “You do have a way about you,” she said, then laughed. “Did you see his face when you were talking about the train robbery? I thought he was going to drop down on his knees and propose, right then and there.”

Genny laughed, too, but it was a forced laugh. She’d made light of the robbery when she was talking to Mr. Tish, but it had been terrifying. And wonderful. It had been the first time Mitch had truly kissed her.

“My adventure continues tomorrow,” Genny said. “Who knows? Perhaps the ship will be boarded by pirates. Or it will go down in a terrible storm and we’ll be stranded on an island with nothing to eat but clams.”

“Oh, don’t talk about shipwrecks, Genny, please.” Tillie looked genuinely frightened. “I’m scared to death as it is.”

Genny looked surprised. “You are? Then why did you agree to come?”

“I have one hundred reasons,” she said with an impish grin.

Mitch stood, and Genny was struck, as she often was, by how much room the man took up in even a large space. “You’re all packed?”

He was staring at her and for some reason she still couldn’t meet his eyes. Perhaps it was because the memory of throwing herself at him was still so raw. “Yes. Tillie has been a great help.”

“I learned a lot about packing dresses in the wardrobe department,” Tillie said, looking pleased with the compliment.

“Weather looks calm. Should stay that way this time of year. Too early for hurricanes and the like.” Genny gave Mitch a curious look. He almost sounded . . . nervous.

“Have you never been on a ship, Mitch?”

“Unless you count a canoe as a ship, then no.”

He
was
nervous, she could tell. For some reason, that made him even more endearing. “I’ve never been on a ship either,” Genny said. “It’ll be grand, you’ll see.”

“Grand for us up in first class,” Tillie said, her voice shaking just slightly. “For poor Mr. Campbell, perhaps not so grand.”

 

The
RMS Oceanic
was the pride of the White Star Line, a four hundred twenty-foot iron ship that carried more than one thousand passengers and was powered by both sail and steam engine. One great smoke stack, painted a bright orange, dominated the deck, which was crisscrossed with ropes and cables, reminding Genny of a cat’s cradle. Her hull was black, the structures built on the deck a pristine white that almost hurt the eyes in the bright morning sun. An American flag, snapping in a stiff breeze on the most forward mast, reminded Genny that she would likely never set foot on American soil again.

Everything about the ship was intimidating—its size, its hulking black hull, even the uniformed crew standing at attention as the passengers boarded. She had never seen anything so impressive in her entire life. She looked at the ship doubtfully, wondering how anything so large could possibly stay afloat.

“It’s really big,” Tillie said, looking up at the ship, which seemed to stretch on forever. “And those masts don’t look like they could carry much sail.”

“I suppose they’re only used when the engine fails,” Genny said doubtfully.

“The engines fail?” Tillie’s voice had taken on a high-pitched tone Genny had never heard before. Without her wig and wearing her plain maid’s dress, Tillie looked completely different, and Genny found she liked the looks of this girl far better. She had a wholesome, fresh quality now that her face was free of makeup. But Tillie was clearly out of sorts. It was almost as if the blonde wig and flashy clothing she’d worn after her initial appearance had given her more confidence. No one would doubt her role as a lady’s maid as they stood waiting for Mitch to return from wherever he’d disappeared to. He’d looked decidedly pale when they’d arrived at the port and gotten their first look at the
Oceanic
. Genny looked around her, but no one seemed at all concerned about the ship’s seaworthiness. Indeed, there was a festive air to the passengers, who were already standing at the rail waving good-bye to family or friends.

Not twenty feet from the two women, an older couple stood waving and smiling at someone on the ship even as tears streamed down their faces. Genny nudged Tillie and nodded to the couple, who looked about as heartbroken as a pair of people could.

“It must be awful to say good-bye to someone, knowing you’ll never see them again. I’ve a feeling that’s what’s happening there,” Tillie said softly so the couple wouldn’t overhear.

Genny’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. The couple was a stark reminder of everything she was leaving behind. Her parents were gone, but America was home. Everyone she knew was here. She wondered how her mother had gotten the courage to leave behind England and her parents all those years ago. It must have broken her heart, though she had no memories of her mother being sad.

Because her mother had been in love; she’d had Genny’s father.

“We might as well board,” Mitch said, coming up behind them, his eyes on the ship. “I’ve been talking to some of the crew. The
Oceanic
is the safest ship on the seas and built to luxuriously accommodate its passengers. We’ll be fine. And the saloon staterooms are first rate.”

Genny studied his face and decided he seemed more relaxed than he had been before he’d spoken to the crew. The crowd near the boarding plank was thinning out, and it was clearly time for them to go on board. Just as they were about to walk up the gangway, a shout from behind caused them all to turn around. Madeline, who had tearfully told her just that morning that she couldn’t bear to bid them farewell at the ship, was hastening toward them, already dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

She threw herself into Mitch’s arms, sobbing against his chest, while Mitch, looking more bemused than embarrassed, hugged her closely.

“I’ll be back in less than a month, Mother,” he said, chuckling.

Madeline lifted her head, as if trying to determine whether he was speaking the truth. Ships did sink; not one year ago the
Oceanic’s
sister ship, the
Atlantic
, had collided with another ship, killing sixteen souls on board. She nodded, turned, and her face crumpled again as she stumbled toward Genny to embrace her.

“You’re almost like a daughter to me,” she said dramatically. “And I’ll never see you again.” This last was squeaked out, as if she could hardly get the words past a throat clogged with tears.

“She’ll write, Mother. Now get your hug over with Tillie. We have to board before they pull up the gangway.”

Madeline sniffed and gave Tillie a hug. “I’ll see that you have a place in the cast when I get that part,” she said. “Bon voyage.” Then, as only Madeline could, she turned and walked stoically away. Genny almost wanted to applaud, even though she knew the woman’s feelings were sincere.

Mitch let out a gusty sigh. “Every time I see my mother, I’m reminded why I left home when I was seventeen,” he said, but he was smiling fondly at his mother’s departing back. “Let’s get on board, ladies. You all have your tickets?”

They both produced them and headed toward the porter, who stood impatiently waiting for the last passengers.

Once on board, they headed to the deck to look out and wave, even though they were all fairly certain Madeline was no longer at the pier to wave back. When the dockworkers pulled in the bridge connecting the pier to the ship, Genny felt a sense of finality. The only way to go back would be to jump, and that was hardly an option. A few minutes later, a gunshot rang out, the ship gave a shudder as the screws began to turn, then slowly it began moving away from the pier.

“This is it,” Tillie said as she clutched the railing. The ship moved slowly, but eventually, the pier was out of sight and the passengers began to move about the deck, some to their staterooms, others to sit on deck chairs to watch the land slowly move past.

“Shall we go see our rooms?” Genny asked. It had been decided, mostly at Madeline’s urging, that Genny should stay in first class accommodations “just in case someone on board should later recognize you. It wouldn’t do for the granddaughter of a duke to be seen in steerage.”

And so, she and Tillie headed to their stateroom while Mitch, taking out his watch to check the time, departed to the men’s section of steerage at the bow of the ship, where the sea was felt more readily. They agreed to meet again on deck after supper.

 

“This certainly is first class,” Tillie said, glancing around the luxurious room. “Look, they’ve already delivered our baggage.” Indeed, Genny’s steamer trunks and Tillie’s two smaller carpetbags were stacked neatly on the floor.

The room was small but well appointed, with carved wood paneling, and a soft carpet beneath their feet. Tillie’s quarters, just off the main room with its bed and small sitting area, was tiny, holding only a narrow bed and small side table.

“Guess I know whose room this is,” Tillie said with remarkable cheerfulness, given her tiny room didn’t even have a porthole. She sat on the bed, giving it a little bounce and grinned up at Genny. “I can’t believe I’m on a ship headed for England.”

“I can’t believe it either,” Genny said, with slightly less enthusiasm.