Oriana took the napkin. It held a croissant, a rare show of kindness from Carlos. She wasnt starving yet, so she tucked it into the mouth of her portmanteau. Thank you. Yes. I fear something terrible has happened.
Carlos nodded. Efisios driver came by here just a few minutes ago. He said he was supposed to pick up the two of you last night. They drove around and around but they never saw you.
Of course the driver would have missed Isabel! Has anyone told Lady Amaral that?
Wake the dragon? Carlos laughed shortly. Not after the way she treated you last night.
It had been a terrible display of temper on Lady Amarals part. Oriana didnt want to relive it again. There was a coach at the end of the alley, she told Carlos. We thought it was Mr. Efisios. They took us. They drugged us and threw me into the river, but Isabel . . . She shrugged, not wanting to lie outright.
Carlos nodded, his lips pursed. Ill be changing my bets, then.
What did he mean by that? Bets?
On whether theyll get married or not, Carlos clarified, brushing a croissant crumb off his black sleeve with white-gloved fingers.
Oriana felt a flare of anger. Carlos didnt care about Isabelor her. He just wanted to make certain he didnt lose money on a bet.
You cant stay here, Carlos added, glancing pointedly down at the two bags near her feet. Arenas will find you for sure. Do you have somewhere to go?
There were places she could go, but Oriana didnt know if shed be welcome in any of them. She could go to her master, Heriberto, but if she went to see him, he might order her back to the islands and she wouldnt be able to pursue Isabels murderer. She could try one of the sereia who lived here in the Golden City, the exiles, but as theyd been banished by the very government she represented, they had no reason to help her. She doubted any of them would, not even her father. In any case, contact with the exiles was strictly forbidden by the ministry.
She raised her chin. Ill think of something, she told Carlos.
He fished a slip of paper out of a pocket and passed it to her. My grandmothers sister rents rooms. Tell her you know me, and shell give you a good rate.
The paper had an address on it, one down near the river. It wasnt a good neighborhood, but she couldnt afford a good neighborhood, not with what little she had stashed in her portmanteau. Oriana looked back up at Carlos. He was watching her, but had one eye on the houses back door, she could tell. Thank you, Carlos.
His eyes focused on her, one corner of his lips twisting up into a smirk. And if you cant pay, Im sure we can work something out.
I should have known Carlos wasnt acting out of kindness . A paid companion was considered above the household servants, but given her current circumstances, the footman might well think a dalliance with her within his reach now. Shed had some of Isabels suitors try their hand at seducing her before. It had been an easy matter to frown at them and shake her head, but shed been under Isabels protection then. Now she had no one to guard her against unwanted advances. Still, while she might not like Carlos, she needed a place to stay, a place where they wouldnt ask too many questions about a woman showing up in her bedraggled condition. She forced herself to smile at him. Well see.
Carlos spotted the butler come out looking for him then. He winked at her and jogged up the steps toward the back of the house, nose in the air as he went.
Oriana leaned back against the stairwell wall and covered her face with her hands. Why do things keep getting worse?
At the moment, she stared toward the dining rooms west-facing window, her hands cupped in her lap. She absently rubbed the tips of her fingers with her other hand as if they ached. With her somber garb and desolate countenance, most
would assume she mourned her husbands death still. Duilio knew better.
She was pining for the sea.
He hated to see her this way. When hed left the Golden City to travel abroad, shed been vivacious and mischievousa loving, attentive mother. Shed helped oversee the familys business investments and kept firm control of the household. Now most days all she did was sit in the front parlor and gaze in the direction of the river. It seemed her spirit had slipped away from her body.
And, to some extent, that was his fault. If hed stayed home, perhaps none of this would have come to pass. Perhaps he could have stopped . . .
His mothers head turned as if shed caught scent of him standing there. Duilinho?
He smiled. She persisted in calling him by his childhood pet name. He settled next to her at the table and covered her hand with his own. Im here.
Her seal-brown eyes fixed on him, a rare moment of concentration. Are you well?
He must look tired after his sleepless night. Even as distracted as she was, she always worried for him. Im fine, Mother.
Her eyes slipped back toward the window, and she turned that direction as if she heard the sea itself calling her.
Duilio pressed his lips together. It troubled him that she spent most of her days cooped up in the house. His father had been dead more than a year now. Duilio expected that his mother would prefer to remarry eventually. She was a lovely woman, even approaching fifty as she was. But her social reemergence must be put off until she was better.