She couldn’t. Taking it would mean things were really over. She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’m not ready to walk away.”
Gray glanced out the window at the stationmaster, who strode down the platform, unlocking doors as passengers disembarked. “That’s your train,” he said. “It’s heading first to New York City, then down the coast until it reaches Washington. It’s an overnight trip, so I’ve purchased a sleeping-car ticket as well.”
Boarding this train would mean giving up on something wonderful, but perhaps that decision had been made the momentshe agreed to spy. She ought to have been prepared to live with that decision, but it still felt wrong.
“Please take the ticket,” he prompted. “It’s best that we end things now.”
She nodded and took the small slip of paper, her dreams collapsing around her.
“You’ll need to eat,” he said, pushing a few more bills at her. She took them too.
“I’m sorry about everything,” she whispered, unable to look at him for fear of embarrassing herself. “Truly sorry, to the bottom of my soul.”
“I am too,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
She nodded and headed outside to board the train.
Thirty
Annabelle was tired, grubby, and heartsick when she arrived in Washington the following day. It was seven o’clock in the evening by the time she got back to her apartment, and she wondered if Elaine had anything prepared for dinner or if she should use the last of Gray’s money to buy something from a street vendor. But she wasn’t hungry, so she dragged herself up the two flights of stairs to their apartment. She’d go back down if Elaine wanted something to eat, but for now Annabelle needed to gather the remnants of her energy to pretend all was well for her sister. Was it only a week ago that she’d left for Boston? It felt like another lifetime. One in which she’d fallen in love with Gray Delacroix all over again and had the broken heart to prove it.
The key clicked in the lock as she opened the door. “Elaine?”
Her voice echoed in the darkened apartment. The sky was still light, so she crossed to the window to open the blinds. There was no one home.
There was no one home!It was seven o’clock, and Elaine should have been home from the library more than an hour ago. Annabelle’s mouth went dry and her heart started thudding. She was at a loss for what to do.
Check across the hall.The Hillenbrands had been kind to them, and maybe Elaine was spending the evening in their apartment. In three bounding steps, Annabelle was at her neighbors’ door, pounding and praying they were home.
“My goodness, what is the matter, child?” Mrs. Hillenbrand asked when she opened the door.
“Have you seen my sister? She isn’t home.”
“No, she’s been staying with the Talbots.”
Annabelle rocked back on her heels. “Who are the Talbots?”
“Someone she met at the library. A soldier she’s been helping. When they learned she would be on her own for a few days, they opened their home to her. Frank and I would have welcomed her, but she seemed keen on staying with the Talbots.”
Now Annabelle remembered meeting the Talbot family at the Library of Congress. Harry, the blind soldier, and his sisters and father. Thankfully, Elaine had given Mrs. Hillenbrand the address.
It took a while for Annabelle’s heart to find its normal rhythm again, but she headed back outside and toward the streetcar stop. It didn’t matter how tired she was, it would be impossible to sleep until she was assured that Elaine was all right. How well did she know these Talbot people, anyway?
Their address was unfamiliar to Annabelle, and she asked the streetcar conductor for advice. “Can you tell me which stop to get off for this address?” she asked, and he nodded.
The streetcar traveled quite a distance. The sun was beginning to set, so it was hard to see clearly, but the buildings around them now had actual lawns in front. The townhouses, although built side by side, were at least four stories tall and oozed elegance. The only thing Annabelle knew about the Talbots was that Harry used to work for a grocer, so they weren’t wealthy people, but the stop where she was told to exit seemed to be a very nice neighborhood.
The streetcar conductor gestured down the lane. “Your address is about six blocks down that-a-way,” he said.
It was an awfully fancy area, especially when she saw placards on some of the lawns. That building was the Belgian Embassy? Others were the Russian and the French Delegations. She walked past the embassies and soon moved into a retail area. Most of the shops were for jewelry, antiques, and imported fabrics, but at last she arrived at the door matching the address in her hand.Talbot’s Fine Food & Delicatessenwas stenciled in gold lettering across the top of the bow-fronted window. The display featured an assortment of imported cheeses, exotic blends of tea, and chocolates in hand-painted boxes. Her heart squeezed at the lavish presentation of Delacroix spices artfully arranged in an open treasure chest.
The shop was closed, the door locked. She stepped back a few paces and craned her neck to peer into the upper two floors above the shop. It looked like they were apartments, for the windows were open and framed with draperies. Laughter and piano music leaked out from the upper floor.
If she could hear them, they could surely hear her. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Mr. Talbot?”
The laughter continued unabated, and she tried three times before a laughing young lady stuck her head out the window.
“We’re closed,” she called down, her face still flushed with laughter.
