Something small, like a pebble, glances off my shoulder. My balance crumples, and my teacup and saucer fly off my head.
27
People shriek, even the QM, who gusts out a high note like a soprano.
I manage to land on my feet, though I wobble around for at least five seconds.
Guffaws from the direction of the bottom cutters reach my ears. One of them has taken a step away from the rest, his arm recoiling as if he has just thrown a pitch. Didhethrow the pebble?
Not a pebble, but a peanut.
Somehow, I find my balance atop the rail.
I realize I didn’t hear a crash. Only the rain of applause and hurrahs and exclamations. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Jamie’s hand. He caught my saucerandmy teacup.
“Encore! Bravo! Eccellente!” they cry.
Well done, Brother. You still have the touch.
I can almost feel the glow of his smug grin behind me. Several female voices sigh loudly. He must be breaking a few hearts. I wonder if I’m breaking any hearts.
Together we reach the end of the line and jump off.
The clapping grows louder as we take our bows. I open myarms wide to take it all in, feeling tears come to my eyes. The routine wasn’t as flashy as the Jumbo, but something tells me it moved people. I exhale, relaxing for the first time in days. The hard part is over.
“That was close.” Jamie rolls his wrist in front of my nose. “Good thing the last name’s Luck.”
“You’ve missed it, haven’t you?” I gush, wanting to bark like a sea lion.
Jamie lets out a good-natured laugh. “I did, Sis.”
Just as I thought. But before he notices my triumphant grin, I wipe the slate clean.
“Bledig’s crew threw a peanut at me.”
Jamie cuts his eyes at the men and hisses through his teeth. “Those dogs. They’ll pay for that.”
The applause doesn’t end even after we’ve bowed in every direction, taking an especially long bow away from those bottom cutters to afford them a good view of our Queen Mums. Mr. Stewart claps with vigor, while Captain Smith and Mr. Ismay receive congratulations, as if they were the ones crawling on the rails. April yells and cheers along with the men.
Below us, Wink and Olly collect tips while Bo and Ming Lai help Drummer move his drums away.
Jamie is watching Charlotte, who seems to be watching him back through Mrs. Sloane’s veil. With a nod, Charlotte begins to leave. But then the boat dips slightly, and as she tries to catch her balance, she stumbles. Jamie sucks in his breath.
To my horror, I watch the vase slip out of Charlotte’s grip and crack. Tobacco spills, and the dry particles blow about inthe breeze. A steward helps her up. I catch a glimpse of muttonchop whiskers, and my jaw drops. “It’s Steward Latimer.”
“Who?”
The steward spreads his arms to divert people from the mess, and Charlotte, whom I’d warned not to talk to anyone, hurries away.
“Mrs. Sloane’s steward. He’ll know the ashes are fake.”
Jamie watches the silent curses backing up in me. Steward Latimer has been nothing but kind to me, and the notion of him discovering my lie drops a stone in my stomach. I will need to follow the lie with another.
He shrugs. “So? You’re an eccentric old bat. Don’t worry about it.”
The lunch bugle at last disperses the crowd, and Jamie, Bo, and I finally troop back to Room 14. Olly and Wink are chattering excitedly over the money on their bunk, the sight of which pushes worries over Steward Latimer from my mind.
Olly scoops up a pile and lets it fall through his fingers. “We’re bleeding rich. We belong up there with the nobs now. Wink and I counted sixty-odd pounds here, plus a bunch of coins we don’t know how to count.”
