Oliver stilled beside her, and Grace was studiously careful to avoid his eyes.
“Oh, Lillie, of all the things to be excited about. Anactress,” Aunt Clove said, as though it were something contagious.
Grace was the only one in the family who knew Oliver had been secretly courting Harriet Forbes for the last four months.
She swallowed. The three of them—Oliver, Lillie, and Grace—each had secrets, she knew. Confidences that Lillie and Oliver had given to her but were keeping from each other, and she suddenly felt all of the secrets she was holding pressing against her ribs. She would never use the things she knew against her beloved cousins—no, they were closer than brother and sister to her, and sometimes she felt like the glue that held them together. She was never happier than when she was between them, Oliver handsome in his silk topper with his cut jaw and boyish smile, and Lillie stunning in her Doucet gown and lilac spray earrings.
They lived in a glittering world where they loved everyone and were beloved in return, and sometimes Grace felt like she actuallybelonged. They shared the same ancestors and lent her power where she had none.
Meanwhile, the darker part of her whispered that secrets were likely the only form of power she’d ever have.
The Missouri Infantry kept the streaming crowds at bay along the tree-lined cobblestone road long enough for them to disembark at the entry gate. Their tickets were examined, and just before they entered the fairgrounds for the first time, Grace’s aunt pulled her aside.
“Grace,” she said, with barely veiled fury. “You’re far from a child anymore.” She leaned forward, her words pressed to Grace’s throat like a knife. “This is the last time your presence will be permitted to taint my children’s company.”
Grace turned to hide the slight from her cousins, as she always did.
“Thank you for your gracious welcome, as always, Aunt Clove,” she said bitingly.
Her aunt blanched at the menacing undertone that for the first time ever, Grace had allowed into her voice. Usually, she held it behind the dams along with all of the other burning things she thought but could not say.
But this was her last week with her cousins. It had already been decided, even before her aunt said anything. She had returned from that party in Chicago knowing that she couldn’t make herself fit. It was time to go back to Kansas City and make a life there. One that Lillie and Oliver couldn’t fit into either. They had outgrown one another, and they couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore. She would tell them at some point that this week was the end. And though the thought nearly broke her, she couldn’t ask for a more memorable way to tell them goodbye.
The poster of the woman in the tangerine dress gestured them forward, into the Ivory City.
A spray of golden fireworks exploded above their heads, falling toward the cupola of the Palace of Electricity.
Lillie grabbed Grace’s hand and squealed, pulling her inside.
The World’s Fair was beginning.
Grace had observed the Ivory City being built from afar, watching the construction from one of the ten bedrooms on the second floor of the Carter mansion. She’d seen the carved ivory columns, the soaring domes of the Palaces, the strips of manicured grass flanking the pavilions and stone bridges reminiscent of Venetian canals. She’d watched the rising silhouette of the enormous Ferris wheel that had claimed the lives of twelve men during its construction. But nothing had prepared her for being within the city herself.
Paved walkways bordered the lush emerald grass of the music pavilion, sculpted by viburnum bushes that burst with fragrant white blossoms as big as snowballs. Flags representing more than thirty countries unfurled to welcome them in a colorful promenade along the great entrance.
“I can’t believe it,” Lillie breathed. The breeze ruffled the curled ends of her hair.
A sparkling pond named the Grand Basin lay at the end of the pavilion, spattered with boats, gondolas, and arcing fountains. And beyond it rose Festival Hall, an immense, round dome that was set up on the hill like an elaborately decorated wedding cake. It was the most stunning building Grace had ever seen, intricately carved and lined with stately columns. Water poured out from a fountain set at its front like an open mouth, cascading into stacked levels of fourteen waterfalls. Grand sets of wide, magnificent steps rimmed either side of theseflowing cascades like an embrace, and fountains gracefully arced into the Grand Basin while being lit from below.
Even Aunt Clove, for once, seemed unable to find fault.
Laughter and accented voices drenched the air as tens of thousands of people crowded by in their hats and finery. Concession tents sold puffed rice, crystal clear water, and scoops of vanilla ice cream in fluted glass dishes. As they passed the sunken gardens, electric lamps began switching on in their posts, and the night air became perfumed with sugar and roasted nuts, honeysuckle, and primrose blossoms. They strolled alongside bursts of pink and yellow spring tulips, smelling fragrant hyacinth, redbuds, and lilacs. Elation was something Grace could almost taste in the air. She couldn’t believe she was there, alive in this moment, in a place so immersive and magnificent. She didn’t know how she would ever return to real life.
“My darling, my dearest, my delight,” Oliver said to Grace just before they passed a hundred-foot column honoring the Louisiana Purchase at the head of the Basin. He linked elbows with her, every bit the dapper gentleman, tipping his top hat at every acquaintance they passed.
“I know that tone,” she said drolly. Over the years, they’d grown quite proficient at holding private conversations and sharing morsels of secrets while they casually walked just out of earshot of his parents. “What do you want?”
Oliver shot a nervous glance in Lillie’s direction to make sure she wasn’t listening. “Just a small favor,” he said.
“And here I thought you’d brought me along, once again, for my scintillating company and sparkling conversation,” she said.
“I always bring you along for that,” he said. “And for your loyalty, benevolence, and discretion.”
His eyes searched hers, pleading.
“Just tell me what it is,” she said, cutting him a look. “You already know I’m going to say yes.”
“In a few minutes we’ll enter the Under and Over the Sea attraction,” he said. “Gondolas will take us through a winding maze of canals before dropping us off at the private dinner. And I’m wondering if you’ll share a boat with me.”
