We hadn’t been able to get close to Luc at the air show last August, but I had gone to Delmonico’s after one of my performances that night, and Luc had been at the restaurant with a table of other men. I walked right up to him and asked him to teach me to fly. And he had agreed.
Luc glanced up at our approach, and his gaze slipped from me to Grace. I had told him I had a twin sister, but the look on his face revealed his surprise. Most people who met us for the first time couldn’t tell us apart, but it didn’t take them long to distinguish us from each other.
Of course, in my flying suit, he couldn’t mistake us now.
“Luc,” I called out and waved.
He was standing next to his Blériot, a wrench in hand, but hetossed it into a wooden toolbox and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe off the ever-present castor oil.
Grace looked around, taking in the mechanics, the hangar, and the aeroplane in one sweeping, appraising—and irritated—glance.
When we were finally standing in front of Luc, I wrapped my arm around Grace’s and stood proudly beside her. My two favorite people were in the same place for the first time, and I couldn’t hide my joy. “This is Grace,” I said to Luc. “And, Grace, this is Lucas Voland.”
“How do you do?” Grace asked, her voice cool. Was she truly upset at him for teaching me to fly? More than anything, I wanted her to like him.
Luc stiffened. “Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he said with a slight bow and a tight smile.
“Hope tells me you are the one who taught her to fly,” Grace continued, showing no qualms at meeting one of the most famous men in the country. “Are you not concerned for her safety?”
Luc lifted his chin and took on a supercilious expression that he usually reserved for annoying aviation fans—and, apparently, bothersome older sisters.
“She is an adult, no?” he asked as he crossed his arms.
“Yes, but does she understand the dangers involved?”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Grace.”
Luc glanced at me for a second and then looked back at Grace. I couldn’t tell what he thought of her—but he didn’t seem impressed. “It is not my job to tell her how dangerous it is. She should know for herself.”
Grace opened her mouth again, but one of the mechanics approached Luc and said something quietly into his ear. He nodded and then straightened before he offered us a slight bow, his expression hard to read. “I must fly now.”
He walked away from us, and my heart sank for the secondtime that day. He didn’t like Grace—and one look at Grace told me she didn’t like him, either.
“He’s arrogant,” Grace said, under her breath. “Why do you like him so much?”
“How do you know I like him?”
“It’s written all over your face. Oh, Hope. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
I couldn’t hide the truth from Grace. She knew me better than anyone else—sometimes better than I knew myself. So all I did was offer a pathetic shrug and smile.
She might know me well, but she didn’t always know what was best for me.
And right now, that was Luc.
3
GRACE
FEBRUARY 29, 1692
SALEM VILLAGE
I hacked at the ice in the water bucket with more force than necessary that morning, my thoughts on the orphanage, J.B. Thurston, Hope, and Lucas Voland. We’d spent the evening brainstorming possible solutions for the orphanage during dinner, but any option we could imagine would take time—something we didn’t have.
Daddy told me I wasn’t to blame—but we all knew the truth. I hadn’t knowingly caused this to happen, yet it was because of me that the orphanage was at risk. If I hadn’t exposed Thurston’s illegal and dangerous business practices, he wouldn’t be coming after my family.
That wasn’t all that was on my mind this morning. Hope had invited Luc to join us for supper to meet our parents, but he hadn’t shown—a fact that had left Hope melancholy andme irritated. How could he stand up our parents? And why did Hope like someone so self-important?
