Unwept by Laura Hickman Tracy Hickman Page B

“fine” a wisp of hope lit in her heart. She had remembered a few things today.
    â€œMaybe you should be on your way home before it gets too late in the day,” he said.
    â€œOh, please let’s dance for a while longer.” Jenny looked up into Merrick’s face and tossed her new short curls playfully with one gloved hand.
    Merrick smiled a little hesitantly, but his voice was hearty: “Of course, Miss Jenny, you and I must have a turn about the floor.”
    â€œOr three!” she said pertly, winking at Ellis. Then Jenny gave him a pretty pout. “You haven’t said anything about my new style.”
    Ellis was amazed to hear Jenny so brazenly fish for a compliment. Ellis looked at her hands and felt color creep into her cheeks.
    â€œDear Jenny, copies are seldom as good as the original.” Jenny’s face fell and Merrick pulled her away as the strains of a waltz began on the Victrola.
    Ellis flushed beet red and found it difficult to stay in her chair. She struggled with the emotions of embarrassment and resentment. Embarrassed that Jenny was either so forward or so naïve that she didn’t know what she had said was wrong. And Ellis resented Merrick’s rude answer. She stole a glance at the pair gliding about the floor. By the smiles and words they were apparently exchanging while dancing one would never guess what had just passed between them. Ellis’s emotions calmed. If neither of them was upset, why should she be distressed? There is still so much I don’t know, she thought.
    Ellis finally knew what it was that she felt was missing from the party as she held court among the Nightbirds: a chaperone. The inappropriateness of the situation was apparent to her. She suddenly felt very tired.
    She sat through a number of melodies. It was most likely only a few minutes, but it felt like hours, and she was a little wounded that no one else had asked to partner her and she stared studiously at the floor. She started when Jenny grabbed her hands. “Come on. We’re going down to the harbor to go home! A little sunset voyage, Ellie. It’ll be fun.”
    Jenny held Ellis’s arm tightly while pushing against the crush who were all trying to exit at once. The excited crowd poured out the side door of the hall, laughing and bumping shoulders while the Victrola loudly blared out “The Bumble Bee Rag.”
    â€œShouldn’t someone stop the music?” Ellis asked Jenny over the din.
    â€œDon’t worry about it! It’ll be fine.” Jenny shrugged and dove outside into the crowd.
    Ellis wondered briefly if there were silent, unseen servants who would clean up the luncheon room and hall after the young people’s departure. Jenny had been right, Ellis mused. It seemed no one would ask her to read a book. She hadn’t seen bookshelves, let alone books, that afternoon at the Nightbirds Literary Society.

8
    SPYGLASS
    The late-afternoon air was warm as the party swarmed up the street toward a small dock where several dinghies, sporting jaunty little sails, were tied up. Ellis’s step slowed as she approached the water and wondered who owned these little boats. Hesitation crawled up her spine.
    Jenny steered Ellis toward the boat that Merrick and Alicia had just boarded. The little boat bobbed in the water against the dock. He held up his hand. Jenny took it and gingerly stepped aboard. Ellis looked out across the ripples of the Persian blue water. A sense of dread welled up in her and her breathing became shallow.
    â€œI don’t like going out on the water, do I?” she asked Merrick.
    â€œIt’s quite safe, I assure you, Ellis,” he answered.
    â€œYes, but I don’t like going out in little boats, do I?”
    â€œJenny, it seems your guest has remembered something about her former life.” Merrick turned to Jenny, who had seated herself. She was looking off to sea and didn’t respond.
    â€œIt’s