In the distance she could hear the surf; it sounded angry. But inside the sea just lapped quietly into the shallow cave, the way the ocean drifted on the shoreline on a lazy summer afternoon. The mist outside was so thick and white that it blocked any view. It was almost as if the black and empty world ended right there, at the very entrance to this cave.
She looked at Georgina. She looked so calm. Her appearance was the only thing that was unruffled about her. Her dress was a mess, like Amy’s, and her long black hair had fallen from its intricate evening knot and was a tangled mass of snarled and heavy curls that fell clear to her waist.
She remembered the first time she’d seen Georgina Bayard, standing in a circle of people who seemed to fade into their surroundings once you noticed her. She wasn’t tall; she didn’t stand out that way. But she had a look about her that drew your attention. It wasn’t just because she usually looked as if she knew some special secret no one else did. For some reason you realized she was unique the first moment you saw her.
When Georgina spoke, her voice was firm and frank. Most people listened intently to whatever she said because her tone, her expression, her stance, everything was so very self-assured.
But then she was a striking woman. She had the most perfect face and figure Amy had ever seen. Her hair was jet black and her skin was the same white glow cast by a full moon. She had high, defined cheekbones and full rosy lips, the kind some women painted on with light pink rouge. And she had the widest pale crystal blue eyes you’d ever seen. Her eyes were so light a color that they were the first thing you noticed when you looked at her face. Amy often wondered if that was because Georgina had a direct way of looking right through you, as if she could pinpoint your most vulnerable secret with those clear eyes should she deign to do so.
But there was a frankness and honesty about her sharp blunt way of speaking and her penetrating looks that Amy had found curiously out of place in a social group that hid their real personas beneath false smiles, cool demeanor, and an air of snobbish indifference. You only had to look at Georgina for a minute or two and you could see her strength. No one who knew Georgina Bayard doubted that if she wanted something, she would find a way to get it. Period.
But now, here inside this cave, Georgina just watched the dark water until she must have felt Amy’s stare, because she looked up. After a moment she said, “I wonder what’s happening at home.”
“I expect by now they’ve gotten together a search party.”
Georgina laughed. “You’re joking.”
“No.”
“First they would have to notice we’re missing.”
“You don’t think they’d notice if their hostess was gone?” Amy knew no one would be looking for her. Certainly not William.
“Who knows.” Georgina shrugged. “Maybe if the food ran out. And if they did notice, would anyone care?” She gave a short laugh. “They certainly swilled enough champagne for no one to care about much of anything.” Her look was as droll as her words.
“But they’d have to notice that you weren’t there. They’ll contact someone.”
“Even if they did notice, which I doubt since there was plenty of champagne, how would they find us? There are hundreds of islands off the coast.” Georgina dropped a rock in the water where it made circles that faded as quickly as Amy’s hope of being rescued.
She realized then that she was fooling herself again, pretending those people would care. Georgina was right.
“We’re stuck here until we can find a way to escape.” Georgina was quiet for a moment, her face creased with thoughts only she knew. She turned and glowered at the cave entrance. “I can’t believe the fog picked tonight of all nights to roll in. It’s not even September yet.”
Amy stared at the dark cave entrance. Her father always told her that everything happened for a reason. She wondered what reason there was for this predicament. But the longer she sat there, the more she felt it—that same chess-pawn feeling she had when she did something that wasn’t her own idea.
“You look about ready to faint. Tell me you’re not going to.” Georgina was staring at her with an annoyed look. “That’s all we need.”
“No.” Amy glanced down at her hands, uncomfortable and feeling as if Georgina could see those spooky thoughts inside Amy’s head. When she looked up at her again, Georgina was still staring at her.
“There’s a reason we’re here,” Amy blurted out.
“Of course there’s a reason. We’re here because of the fog.”
“No. I meant there’s a reason we’re on the island.”
“There’s a reason, all right,” Georgina said with disgust. “We’re here because some lummox with more arrogance than wit kidnapped us.” She threw another rock so hard it skipped across the surface of the cave’s pool the same way the fat sea pigeons made splashes when they played in the sea.
But to Amy there was nothing playful about the situation. To her it had become eerie and frightening and all too real. “No, you don’t understand. I can feel it. There’s a reason that things happen.”
“You mean as in fate or destiny?” Georgina did laugh; it had a hollow sound. She tossed a handful of small granite stones that caught specks of lantern light and looked like tiny fireflies. “I believe people make their own destiny.”
Amy wondered if Georgina really believed that, since she hadn’t looked her in the eye when she’d said it. Her father had told her once that people who spoke the truth looked you in the eye. Odd that she would remember that now when it did her no good. She certainly wished she would have remembered that piece of advice when she’d met William.
She was quiet for a moment, trying to think of how to express in words exactly what she was feeling. She looked up at Georgina. “There are people who believe there is a higher plan. That everything happens for a reason.”
Georgina just stared back.
“Like... well...” She searched her mind for an example. “There’s a reason that the moon rises at night.”
