The rest of the night is dark and murky, most of the evening’s details opaque... although fragments flash across her mind like summer lightning:
Dagmar dragging her out of the beer saloon.
The sick-inducing cab ride home.
Singing up the stairwell together.
Béatrice scolding them both as she shuttled them off to sleep.
Cora sits up fast in bed, morning light searing through the curtains.
Another flash, of Cal Archer smiling, leaning over her in that Bowery bar. A sharp throbbing blooms in her head, descends into her chest, and laces all the way down, deep past her abdomen.
She bites her lip.
Good God.
Does she havefeelingsfor this man? And far more importantly...
What in the Sam Hill did she confess to him last night?
Chapter 21
Nobody, a Nuisance
Coraline O’Malley is acting decidedly odd. Alice watches her warily from across the breakfast table as she stirs milk into her coffee.
For one thing, her skin’s gone gray. Alice had assumed Cora had taken to her bed all of yesterday out of pique at what Alice has demanded of her, but now she wonders whether an actual stomach ailment is to blame. When Béa laid out the platter of sausages and poached eggs, Cora pushed back a bit from the table as if with revulsion. Now she sits nibbling the edges of a piece of dry toast, furtively, like a mouse, her wide—now bleary—eyes darting to the front entryway every minute or so.
Alice clears her throat. “Expecting a visitor?”
Cora outright startles. “No. At least I hope... no, just. The morning papers.”
“They’ve arrived already.” Alice frowns, nodding toward the parlor, where she’d left them for later perusal.
Cora jumps from her chair, rattling the table. “Sorry. I... Just a moment.”
As the girl runs from the room, ostensibly desperate for the latest news headlines, Alice smiles in bewilderment. Sheattempts to share a look with Béatrice, but Béa has studiously avoided eye contact for days.
Which is all for the better, probably. Best to keep things strictly professional, cut and dry, uncomplicated—
Cora rushes back into the room, her cheeks freshly flushed. As she reclaims her seat at the table, blinking hard as if against a wave of nausea, Alice peers aghast at her fingers, all of them smudged with newsprint ink. She’d admonish the girl to wash her hands before eating, if she was planning to eat anything this morning.
“Anything interesting in the paper?” Alice asks casually.
The color leaves Cora’s cheeks again. “No. I... was, ah, looking for something. But it wasn’t in there. Perhaps tomorrow...”
That last bit said more to herself, with a look of swirling dread in her expression.
At the now-obvious scrutiny in Alice’s eyes, Cora blinks hard. “I thought they might have posted a society mention about what went on at the Ameses’ ball. Or a formal engagement notice. Harry had mentioned he wanted to announce it as soon as possible.”
“Ah.” Alice sips. “And that concerns you because...”
“It doesn’t concern me.” There is a manic edge to Cora’s smile. “I’m excited, is all. To see my name in print. Even if it’s, you know... not my real name.”
Curiouser and curiouser. The last time she and Cora spoke on this subject, Cora was as far from excited about an engagement announcement as a young woman could possibly be.
Alice chooses not to press the point. She cuts her sausage with a smirk. “If your real name winds up in the papers, something has gone terribly wrong.”
