An hour later, when the train began to move, Sarahdecided that the sofa was not a good choice and relocated to one of the chairs. Here, she at least could grip both arms as the speed began to increase. Douglas, who’d already spread his papers across the surface of the table, glanced over at her and smiled.
“It’s a great deal faster than a carriage,” he said, “but there’s no need for alarm.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said, lying. “I’m simply being cautious.”
He turned his chair to face her. “Is this the first time you’ve traveled by rail?”
She nodded. “I suppose you’ve done so many times before.”
He smiled. “I have, but I felt the same as you at the beginning.”
A very nice thing to say, but she wasn’t at all certain Douglas had ever been afraid of anything.
They were soon out of London, through beautiful open country. Lowland hills began to swell up from the earth, gradually surrounding them. The weather was fair and the rails smooth, and gradually Sarah’s discomfort gave way to acute boredom.
She looked through the books in the cabinet, found one on botanicals that looked interesting, and carried it back to the chair. She halted in the middle of the room, transfixed by the feeling beneath her feet.
“What is it, Sarah?”
She turned to smile at Douglas.
“The floor is vibrating. The speed of the train makes it very challenging to walk, doesn’t it? However does one become accustomed to it?”
He smiled back at her. “I imagine it’s a bit like getting your sea legs. It takes some time to learn how to walk aboard ship, especially in inclement weather.”
She made it to the chair, sat, and turned to him. “Have you been all over the world, Douglas? And traveled by whatever conveyance?”
“I’ve seen most of it,” he said. “But my most impressive journeys were those on the back of an elephant, or riding a camel.”
“While this is my very first occasion to travel by rail. How countrified you must think me.”
He looked at her for a moment, as if he wished to say something, then changed his mind. Finally, he only smiled, devoting himself to his work again.
“I understand you will be staying with us for some time, Mr. McDonough,” a woman said.
Alano looked up to find that an angel was speaking to him. Not an angel with long blond hair and ethereal wings, but an angel with soft blue eyes and a coronet of brunette braids upon her head.
He walked to the base of the stairs and placed one hand on the newel post. She still stood above him, making no move to equalize their positions. She might be considered Queen of the Angels, so regal did she appear. A thought he decided to keep to himself for the time being.
“I will,” he said. “A fortuitous event, would you not agree?”
She raised one eyebrow and looked at him imperiously.
“Is there any food you do not like, Mr. McDonough?”
“I’ll eat just about anything,” he said. “Except for lamb. Dinner, however, was very tasty. If lonely.”
She looked startled.
“How do you prefer your mattress made? I’ve hadthe maids mound it in the middle, but that can be changed.”
“I’m of an age that anything other than the floor is fine with me,” he said.
“Is there anything we need to know to make your visit with us as pleasant as possible?” The words were hospitable; the tone in which they were uttered was icy.
He found himself utterly fascinated.
“Have you been here long?” he asked.
