“People care about what they want for themselves. They don’t care if someone else gets hurt. I learned that a long time ago.” For the briefest of moments Georgina wore an odd, almost wistful expression, then she caught Amy looking at her and her lips thinned into that hard and determined line that seemed to dare you not to question her. She looked away and wiped her palms on her water-stained skirt as if she needed to keep her hands busy.
Amy wondered what or who had taught Georgina Bayard to look out for herself alone. Or were people just born selfish?
Georgina nodded at the basket sitting between them. “What’s in that thing?” She shifted closer, wiggling slightly till she appeared to find a comfortable position.
Amy peeled back a corner of the nubby cloth that covered it and took out a doughnut. She held it up. “Food.”
Georgina tore back the cloth and looked inside. “Oh my God... pies.”
Amy took a large bite of the doughnut and watched Georgina. From the way her eyes lit up, you’d have thought those pies were made of hundred-dollar gold pieces. She lifted out a whole pie and held it beneath her nose before she smelled it and groaned like someone who hadn’t eaten since birth.
“Where did you find this heavenly food?”
Amy swallowed a heavy wad of sweet doughnut and shrugged. “The basket was in the kitchen. I stumbled across it when I was trying to find you.”
Meanwhile Georgina had set the pie in her lap and was rummaging inside the basket, her head so close that her black hair caught on the willow-twig handle. But that didn’t stop her. She just jerked her hair out of the way, leaving a thin strand of coal-black hair springing from the basket weave as she searched for something.
A second later she pulled out a knife and fork. She looked at them both for an instant, then tossed the knife back in the basket. In less time than it took Amy to swallow again, Georgina was eating plump forkfuls right from the center of the pie.
“Hmmmm. I adore blueberry pie.” She crammed another huge bite into her mouth and chewed with her eyes closed.
Amy finished off one doughnut and grabbed another.
Georgina opened her eyes and looked at Amy. She gulped down another mouthful, then asked, “What is that? Bread?”
“Doughnuts,” Amy said with her mouth full.
Georgina nodded and they ate in companionable silence.
Amy was on her fifth doughnut when Georgina finally stopped shoveling pie into her mouth and stared at her. Amy stopped chewing and swallowed. “What’s wrong?” She knew she had eaten five whole doughnuts—she always ate when she was nervous—but Georgina had eaten almost all of a huge pie.
“Nothing.” Georgina quickly took another mouthful and dropped her gaze, jabbing the fork into the pie crust and watching it crumble.
Amy dropped a half-eaten doughnut in her lap and was silent.
Georgina glanced up. “What’s the matter?”
“I think you were thinking of something.”
Shrugging, Georgina looked away. “Just thinking, nothing important.”
“Thinking about what?”
She was very still, then she fixed Amy with a square look. “Why did you come to help me escape?”
“Why?” Amy frowned. “What do you mean ‘why?’ What else would I do?”
“Save yourself.”
“And leave you there?” She almost laughed, until she realized Georgina was perfectly serious. “I couldn’t do that... leave you alone. We were kidnapped together.”
“I’ve never been friendly or even kind to you, yet you came to help me. I don’t understand you.”
“Human kindness is nothing to understand.” When Georgina didn’t respond, Amy said, “If you saw someone who was in trouble, say, about to step in front of a carriage, you’d warn them or help somehow, perhaps try to pull them back to safety.”
Georgina ate some more pie, then looked up at Amy and gave her a wicked smile. “If it was Phoebe Dearborn,” she said swallowing, “I’d certainly give her a little help.”
“There, you see? You would have done the same thing I did.”
