“Please say yes,” Elaine said. “This will be the most exciting thing that’s happened in ages.”
How was he going to get a dozen blind people across town in less than thirty minutes? It was too far to walk, and they couldn’t all fit in a carriage.
It didn’t matter. He would find a way.
He offered his hand to Elaine. “I’m Gray Delacroix,” he said formally.
“Hello, Mr. Delacroix,” Elaine replied, making no move to return his handshake. Annabelle reached for Elaine’s hand and placed it in his, and he nearly kicked himself for his stupidity. How could he lead a dozen blind people across town if he couldn’t even manage a simple introduction?
“Gray, this is my sister, Elaine,” Annabelle said. “Elaine is the woman who convinced me to look beyond the horizon of our farm to see the wider world.”
“Then I shall be forever grateful to you,” he said, covering Elaine’s hand with both of his own. “I have a feeling the world would be far blander without both Larkin sisters.”
He boarded the next streetcar and, with the help of the driver, managed to clear enough space for the blind passengers. It took a while to lead them all aboard and get them settled, and the clock continued to tick, but twenty minutes later, the streetcar arrived at the Navy Yard. A spectacular yacht was moored in port, and plenty of officers from both the U.S. and Germannavy were on hand. A brass band played patriotic tunes, and colorful bunting draped the raised platform at the launching area. It was crowded with men in uniforms and formal attire, but it was easy to spot the prince, who wore a scarlet sash and a collection of medals on his chest.
Elaine seemed entranced by the music and liveliness in the air. Even without sight, she must be able to sense the pageantry, for her face glowed with excitement.
Gray leaned down to speak directly to her. “I want you to know that no matter how this afternoon turns out, you are a hero.”
Elaine beamed in reply, and he guided her toward Caroline, whose demeanor was gracious as she mingled among the dignitaries, but he could tell from her ramrod spine that she was terrified. When she spotted him, she sprang across the staging area and extended both hands to him.
“Thank you for coming!” Caroline gushed. “Are you Elaine?”
“I am.”
“Prince Gustav has been in this country for a month, and he’s said how impressed he is with what the Library of Congress has accomplished for the blind. Your appearance here will show our country in a good light. I’ve already arranged for a tour of the library following the ceremony.”
Then Caroline noticed the line of others standing behind Elaine. “My goodness ... there are more?”
Elaine looked a little abashed. “Everyone wanted to come. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Caroline exclaimed. “I shall inform the prince that a blind delegation from the Library of Congress is here to support his sister. The countess is only twelve, but it would be wonderful for her to meet all of you. Let me go make arrangements.”
Caroline disappeared into the crowd while Annabelle leaned close to Elaine and described the sight. “The countess is dressedlike a fabulous doll. Tight corset, hair done up in ringlets, and it looks like a real fox-fur collar. Imagine that, a fur collar in June. And a real tiara!”
“Are we underdressed?” Elaine asked.
“No, no!” Annabelle assured her. They were the only ones not dripping in jewels or medals, but Annabelle knew the perfect thing to say. “You are wearing faces more radiant and excited than all these stuffy officers.”
“We start in five minutes,” Caroline said as she scurried back to rejoin the group. “The prince and the countess are thrilled you are here, and guess what? Prince Gustav has issued an invitation for all of you to sail on the yacht’s maiden voyage immediately following the ceremony. All of you! Won’t that be wonderful?”
A handful of the blind people began to laugh and applaud, but Annabelle and Elaine both looked sick.
Annabelle was glad she stood beside Elaine, who began to keel over at the invitation to sail on the yacht. Annabelle reached out to steady her. “You don’t have to do it,” she whispered.
“Yes, I do.”
Annabelle’s eyes widened. Elaine’s face was sickly white, but her voice was firm.
“I want to be a part of this,” she continued. “If a twelve-year-old girl can do it, I can too. I’m tired of being afraid. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I take the coward’s way out.”
Annabelle’s breath left her in a rush. Never had she been so proud of Elaine.
Her sister’s face was a mask of trepidation as a German officer draped in medals escorted her onto the platform to meet the young countess. Gray’s sister performed the introductions, and the other blind visitors were also escorted to the platform.
So much finery, so many uniforms, patriotic bunting everywhere, and smiles all around. The band played the anthems of both nations as officers carrying the national flags moved into place, but Annabelle kept twisting her fingers so hard it hurt.
“Your sister is doing fine,” Gray murmured, and the warm confidence in his voice immediately soothed her.
