“Aida is pursuing a doctorate in sociology,” Vera said. “She’ll be with us just this summer, since she’ll return to classes in the fall.”
Mattie had never met anyone with a PhD, let alone a woman. The thought of a female pursuing a higher education in a scientific field fascinated her.
“Sociology?” Lily asked, wrinkling her slightly upturned nose.
Aida laughed brightly. “Rooming with Vera for over half a decade at a Swiss boarding school made me keenly interested in how people behave and react to social strictures.”
“I always strive to be a source of inspiration.” Vera’s coral-painted lips curved in amused satisfaction.
“It was also due to that misspent youth that I acquired acrobatic skills from Vera,” Aida said.
“They are so handy when it comes to sneaking out of the upper stories of dormitories, even formidable, fortresslike ones.” Vera paused for a beat. “In fact,especiallythe fortresslike ones. They always have such useful decorations to support one’s footing. I am quite fond of grotesques and gargoyles.”
Aida winked mischievously. “Much to my parents’ chagrin, aerialist skills are quite handy for sneaking out of California haciendas too.”
“Aida, it looks like the relief valve’s gummed up. I’m going to unscrew the radiator cap to relieve the pressure,” Sadie called out as she tucked her long braid into a rather ragged flatcap.
Interested to see the result, Mattie hurried closer to the Dodge but stood far enough back to avoid being caught in the release of steam. All pilots knew to respect an engine almost as much as they feared a fiery death from leaking fuel.
Lily, however, took no such precautions. Without warning, she flounced over to her sister just as Sadie began to carefully unscrew the metal cap.
“Lily, step back,” Mattie cried just as Leo called, “Watch out, Miss Lenhart!” Unfortunately, their warnings came too late. A gout of scalding steam shot into the air. Lily cried out, pinwheeling backward, her hands fluttering. The vapor immediately caused her makeup to run and flushed her face a bright pink, but thankfully she hadn’t gotten close enough to catch any more than the edge of the cloud, and she didn’t appear to be burned.
“Lily!” Sadie cried out in horror as she dropped her wrench and rushed over to her sibling. “What were you thinking! Are you injured?”
“My makeup!” Lily cried out, holding up a finger covered in black, greasy soot. Between the dark drips around her luminous eyes and the red running from her painted lips, the flaxen-haired beauty looked a bit like a melted circus clown.
“Hell’s bells and buckets of blood,” Sadie called out, using one of Mattie’s own favorite phrases. “Stop worrying whether you have Mae Murray’s bee-stung lips. Did you get scalded?”
“I...I don’t think so,” Lily said as she reached a shaking hand to her hair. When she touched the limp wet locks, her pixie-like face crumpled. “My curls are utterly ruined, though!”
“Hey, stop!” a new female voice called out. “Somebody stop that man! He was taking photographs!”
Two women stood on the back veranda. The taller one, with her dramatically white skin, reminded Mattie a bit of Vera, but it was the second newcomer who drew her attention—and not because she was raising the alarm.
Recognition slammed into Mattie as she realized she was in the presence of another pioneering aviatrix, Miss Carrie Wilcox. She looked just as she did in the newspaper—her short bob arranged in perfect rows of finger curls, her dark-brown skin smooth and flawless, her features strikingly confident. But she didn’t wear a smile this time as she took off running in the direction of a fleeing figure. The man was moving quickly despite the large camera clutched in his arms.
Realizing an image of a bedraggled Lily foolishly caught in the spray from the radiator would not be good press for the circus, Mattie joined the chase, and she heard Leo’s shoes slapping against the ground. The three of them had almost reached the man when he jumped into a Chrysler half-hidden in the trees. Within seconds, he was speeding through the sedges to reach the main road leading away from Fete Castle.
Still in the lead, Carrie skidded to a halt. Bracing her hands against her knees, she gasped for breath. Mattie stopped beside her, just as winded. Leo seemed in the best shape, but he, too, was gulping more air than normal.
“Chickenhearted cad! Two-faced muckraker!” Vera yelled out, shaking her fist in the air as she and Aida finally caught up to the rest ofthem. With their heeled shoes, the two heiresses hadn’t been able to run very fast and had only managed a brisk trot.
“You know him?” Aida asked.
“Unfortunately, I may have let him escort me about town once or twice. His name is Benji Pringle, and he’s become the worst kind of scandalmongering reporter. After he saw me on the arm of one of his numerous pilot friends, he began to write the most mean-spirited articles about me. I’d thought he’d grown past his petty revenge, but clearly, I’ve misjudged him yet again. Although I do have to admit I was always more attracted to his deep-set dimples than to his character. I can never resist a chiseled jaw and an indentation in a man’s cheeks when he smiles.”
“Itisher Achilles’ heel,” Aida confirmed. “That and a clover club or a bee’s knees or a mint julep or a—”
“Speaking of cocktails, we should all get a good stiff drink. Did you happen to bring any wine?” Vera asked her former school chum. Then she turned to the rest of the group and added, “Aida’s parents own a fabulous vineyard, which is tragically producing its delectable products mostly for sacramental uses due to Prohibition.”
“Wedoalso have rather extensive orchards, including almond, fig, and apricot trees,” Aida said, “but Vera is, of course, focused on the grapes.”
“Not the fruit, darling, but its fermented juices. That reminds me that I must thank your older sister for sending me a large shipment of wine blocks—and the handy warning of hownotto ferment them.”
“All in compliance with the law.” The left side of Aida’s lips turned up. “It is certainly not our fault if some of our customers choose to ignore the cautions and inadvertently turn our blocks of concentrated grapes into wine.”
“Yes. Inadvertently.” Vera arched one of her sculpted eyebrows. “It is amazing how one can continue to do something inadvertently on such a regular basis.”
