Now, beneath the columned, towering ceilings of the Palace of Transportation, she passed a revolving steam engine and shook hands with a man she’d never have dreamed she would meet—the inventor Thomas Edison—then followed Earnest through the rows of hundreds of gleaming new-fashioned American automobiles and motorcars while he considered buying one. His eyes shone as he examined the machines one after another, sitting in the plush red seats.
“But how will you finance one of my shows if you buy one of these, Mr. Allred?” Harriet said playfully, running her fingers alongthe hood of a jet-black American Mercedes. “Don’t think I don’t remember your promise.”
His eyes crinkled as he winked. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Grace didn’t even dare touch the automobile. How strange to be around people for whom money was no object. It felt like magic.
And she couldn’t deny how flattered—and perhaps even a little frightened—she felt that Earnest had seemed to take an interest in her. Why would he want her when Lillie was right there?
He tilted his paper cone of puffed corn toward her so that she could try it.
“I have a little surprise for tonight,” he said conspiratorially. “Do you like surprises, Miss Covington?”
“That all depends. When they involve death, dismemberment, or disaster? No. But if they involve dinner, dancing, or dessert… then… yes.”
Earnest smiled and leaned closer to her ear. “How about defiance of gravity and displays of wonder?”
“Then do say more,” she said breathlessly.
“I believe something will happen tonight that will make history and the future meet. It’s in the very air itself. Can you feel it?”
The crackle in his voice gave her a sudden thrill.
“What do you think, Miss Covington? Would you like to see history made?”
His excitement was contagious. She felt the spark down her spine. To be where history happened. That’s what she wanted from this week. To be near enough to touch it.
She nodded.
“Save a dance for me tonight, won’t you, Miss Covington?” Earnest asked. He kissed her on the hand, then Lillie’s, and helped them into their carriage.
“Could this day have been any more perfect?” Grace breathed, collapsing into the velvet seat as soon as the door was closed.
“He likes you,” Lillie said, her smile stretching wide. “My darling, he must see what I see, which means he is going to fall effortlessly in love with you.” She brought her forehead to touch Grace’s, beaming, and they both squealed.
Grace soaked her sore feet in gloriously hot water before lacing them into slippers and donning a gorgeous oyster silk dress covered in embroidered flowers for the Dragon Ball. The nephew of the emperor of China, Prince Pu Lun, had built a replica of his summer palace in the Chinese pavilion and was throwing an elegant party for those lucky enough to gain the invites: red and gold, and stamped with an official chop. The Cinch had determined which households were invited, and Grace’s uncle had overruled Aunt Clove and said she was allowed to come.
Aunt Clove was in a huff about that, hovering and eavesdropping more than usual, wanting to know how the fair had gone.
“Did you see the statue of the president of the United States of America made out ofbutter?” Aunt Clove asked. “How crass.”
“No. But we saw the X-ray machine and a horse that does math, which was decidedly more impressive,” Lillie said.
“Was that actress there today?” Aunt Clove asked. “The one with Theodore Parker?”
Oliver smiled bitingly. “Her name is Harriet, Mother.”
“It’s an odd pairing, certainly. I’m sure Mrs. Parker would be rolling over in her grave,” Aunt Clove said. “Will she be there tonight, then?”
“Mrs. Parker? No. Last time I checked, she was still dead.”
“Oliver. Stop being cheeky. You know very well I meant that actress.”
“Harriet,” Oliver said.
Lillie was watching Oliver carefully.
His face remained smooth and with the perfect amount of nonchalance when he pulled on his gloves and said, “I have no idea. I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
