“Miss Covington,” he said flatly.
“Mr. Parker,” she said, eyebrow arching.
The morning sun was growing hot, and Grace felt a trickle of sweat beneath the lace of her high collar as a magician passed by in a parade, handcuffed and trapped in a cage with a live tiger. The tiger hissed, saliva dripping from its mouth.
“Ah, look! A reenactment of the night we first met,” Theodore said.
“It must have made quite an impression on you,” Grace said. “I hardly remember it at all.”
“Touché,” he said with something almost bordering on amusement. “Just don’t forget yourspoon,” he added under his breath, his eyes smoldering.
“It’s the future, Mr. Parker, haven’t you heard?” she said. “I won’t even need one.”
As the parade cleared, she saw a discarded newspaper on the ground and stooped to retrieve it. Her face burned a little upon the realization that no one else in their party, save maybe for Harriet, might even think of picking up a trashed newspaper from the street. They would simply buy a fresh one. She smoothed it out quickly, trying to cover her faux pas as she caught up with Lillie. It was a gossip rag called theFair’s Fareby Sam Whitcomb.
“Look!” she whispered to Lillie. They put their heads together to scour the salacious rag as they navigated between the throngs of the Pike, smelling saffron and sweat and perfume, weaving around vendors selling sweet milk, freshly brewed iced tea, and loaf cakes for 10 cents apiece. “Harriet’s in it!” Lillie said.
“‘GIRL ABOUT TOWN HARRIET FORBES SEEN WITH RECENT ST.LOUIS TRANSPLANT AND THE CITY’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR,’” she read.“‘Marked by birth in more ways than one, he’s reportedly worth almost $70K a year.’”
“St. Louis’smosteligible bachelor? Hmph. I resent that,” Oliver said.
“What utter trash,” Theodore said with disdain, his port-wine stain deepening. His jaw was stark and handsome, his face somehow even more striking when his eyes were like fire.
“The news is out now,” Lillie teased.
Theo shot Oliver a look of daggers, and Oliver responded with a subtle, sheepish shrug.
Surely this charade could come to an end now, Grace thought. Lillie’s keen eyes glanced between Theodore and Oliver, always picking up on everything. She was sharp and she knew something was up.
“And look—he claims someone from the Cinch was spotted going into the Tunnels,” Oliver said.
“The Cinch?”
“The business leaders of St. Louis,” Earnest said. “The politicians don’t run the town. They do.”
“What are the Tunnels?” Lillie asked.
Oliver and Earnest exchanged an uneasy look. “Nothing the ladies need to know about.”
Harriet waited until the men kept walking. “It’s a seedy drug market,” she whispered behind her gloved hand. “There are a few tunnels that run beneath the Pike from the Tyrolean Alps.”
The thought made Grace feel suddenly ill.
“I guess I’m full from breakfast” was all she said, shoving the last of her cone into Oliver’s hand.
“Since when have you ever not wanted ice cream, Grace Carter Covington?” he asked, but he devoured it without waiting for her answer.
“Come,” Lillie said, noticing Grace’s fallen temperament. “Let’s go watch small children ride on that simply enormous tortoise.”
Grace crumpled the gossip rag in her hand. The massive ivory palaces in the distance shone in the sunlight, shimmering like a dream. In Hagenbeck’s Animal Show there was an elephant going down a slide, and a female photographer standing on stilts to capture a photograph. Small boys chased one another in sailor suits, and one girl was crying over a melted ice cream. Grace and Lillie stopped to admire the giant working floral clock, created with varying shades of centaurea, verbena, and twelve-foot-tall numbers made of red coleus. The marching bands were awash in bright brass sounds, and the scent of chocolate melded with the scarlet and pink begonias.
As they stepped inside the massive Palace of Agriculture, the floral scent dissipated into ripe fruit and rich, freshly-pressed olive oil. There was a huge roaring bear made of prunes and a wine temple drapedwith clusters of grapes in the California exhibit; a temple constructed entirely of multicolored corn cobs; and the Liquid Carbonic Company’s soda fountain, which was flanked with potted palms and a wide bar staffed by waiters in crisp white uniforms. Grace ate and laughed until her stomach ached. She’d never seen so many people, so many inventions. It felt as though she’d opened an invitation from the world and glimpsed the swirling calligraphy of the card beneath. Doubt cut through the delight she felt, hollowing it like a knife. Could she really go back to Kansas City after this?
Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had?
She remembered being a young girl, hiding behind an urn during one of Aunt Clove’s dinner parties. Lillie and Oliver had made a brief appearance to be shown off and petted, and Grace had snuck down the stairs herself, for just one glimpse.
She’d hid behind the chinoiserie and watched the champagne-infused laughter, the intricately set table of flowers and candlesticks, the guests in their shimmering gowns, and told herself she didn’t care that they didn’t want her. But she’d shrewdly observed their manners. She didn’t want to be invited, she told herself, hugging her knees to her chest—she just wanted to be adequately prepared in case she ever was.
