‘I know someone like that.’ Winsome shook her head at a thought she didn’t share. ‘So you’re not even engaged?’ Inquisitive faded blue eyes twinkled at her again.
Kelsie lifted her chin. ‘No.’ Her life was good just as it was.
Winsome sat back. ‘Connor’s not married either.’ She acknowledged Kelsie’s narrowed gaze and obviously decided she’d pried enough. ‘I’ll stop.’
Kelsie raised her brows. ‘You seemed to have acquired the salient information.’ And imparted a bit as well. Why wasn’t Connor married?
‘My modus operandi, dear.’
‘I consider myself warned,’ Kelsie muttered to herself, but there was food for thought in her new knowledge. How could that be?
As if she’d heard the thought, Winsome added, ‘He’s been very busy with his career.’ Then she smiled and Kelsie wasn’t so sure she trusted the unholy glee in the older woman’s face. ‘And here he comes.’
When Connor arrived he handed Kelsie her coffee without a glance and ignored her murmured thanks.
Winsome accepted hers with all-seeing eyes and directed her attention to her grandson and pretended to sigh. ‘I’m disappointed with the waiting room for the world’s most glamorous journey.’ There was a special twinkle in her eyes as if she knew a secret no one else did.
Connor glanced at the tiny white sign alone on the concrete. ‘Me, too. If only I could make it happen for you, Gran, I would.’ He snapped his fingers.
As if conjured up, like Mary Poppins’s sister, a young woman in a gold-edged royal-blue skirt and high-collared jacket high-heeled her way across the concourse towards them, pushing a tall wooden reception desk on wheels. Another equally well-dressed young woman pushed a covered luggage trolley.
Kelsie blinked. It wasn’t luggage on the trolley. It was furniture.
The hostess directed her junior to unroll a plush, deep red carpet stamped with a blue and gold insignia and then… magic.
Kelsie blinked again as within seconds a large circular waiting area sprang up in an empty space on the grey concrete. The beautiful oak reception desk, also sporting insignias, two potted palms in four-legged oak pots, also on wheels, a gold-edged name plate on the desk and a bowl of roses. Kelsie thought they looked suspiciously real.
The young hostess snapped open a box of labels and turned to the bemused crowd. ‘Who is first?’ She smiled and then disappeared from view for a moment behind the surge of patrons.
‘I can see why you travel with him,’ Kelsie whispered to Winsome as they stayed seated to allow the crowd to thin, and Winsome nodded complacently.
At that moment the unmistakable sound of a diesel engine and rattle of wheels on rails heralded the arrival of the world’s most famous train and everyone paused to look.
Shiny blue carriages, with burnished gold edges and gold lettering, and gleaming panes of glass all came closer until the brakes screeched as the wheels locked on the rails and inched to a stop.
The anticipation in the air rose like the smell of diesel from the train.
Thank goodness for the distraction, Kelsie thought with relief. It was the perfect excuse to put some distance between her and Connor. She turned to Winsome. ‘May I leave my bag here while I go and have a closer look?’
Winsome patted her leg. ‘Of course.’
Kelsie stood hastily and without glancing at the man looming over her she carried her disposable coffee cup to the platform and began to wander up the length of the train.
Such shiny gold trim around the windows and gorgeous lettering proclaiming ‘Express Eurpeen’ above the glass, but it was that chance to peer in, that glimpse into a bygone era that attracted her. Each cabin held an ornate bench seat with tiny lace-covered tables and a dainty pink lamp next to a delicate orchid that danced in a slender crystal vase, and everywhere rich, dark panelling glowed in the dim light with exquisite parquetry. She couldn’t wait to see which tiny cabin was hers.
Not to mention the relief of being able to hide her face from the steely glance of the man she’d jilted more than a decade ago.
Back on the bench Winsome Black raised her brows quizzically. ‘She’s very striking.’
‘Hmm.’ Connor didn’t want to think about Kelsie Summers and he certainly didn’t want to talk about her. He tried not to glance up the platform but his gaze strayed disobediently before he whipped it back. She still had the whippet thinness he remembered but had gained subtle womanly curves that beckoned anyone with a spoonful of testosterone without her even trying. Typical.
He snapped his teeth together. ‘If you give me your ticket I’ll check your baggage in. I imagine it will take a while before all these people are checked in and the luggage loaded.’
His grandmother had declined to allow him to care for the tickets. He wasn’t used to it. the whole ‘not being in command’ thing. And he knew she regularly lost things so he’d be glad when he’d secured the damn things and they were on the train.
His mind drifted unexpectedly. Kelsie used to lose things all the time too.
He snapped back to the present and the frown he sent his grandmother must have been more ferocious than he thought because she burst out laughing.
‘And will you cut off my head if I don’t?’
‘What?’
‘Give you the tickets. You have serious control issues.’ She shot him a penetrating glance. ‘Thinking of other things, were you?’
Lord, he’d forgotten how easily she read him. ‘No.’ He took the tickets she offered. ‘And thank you,’ he added, his voice dry. This journey could prove very tiresome if Winsome decided to tease him for most of it.
He moved into line behind a young woman buried in what looked like a 1940s ankle-length trench coat two sizes too large for her, and the fur of the collar was pulled up around her ears. When she darted a look at him all he could see was the bridge of her nose under her dark glasses and the thick black hair scraped back off her high forehead.
‘Buon giorno,’ he said.
‘Buon giorno,’ she whispered back, and turned away.
Maybe she was a very young secret agent? This trip had the makings of a farce already, he thought sardonically, and glanced ahead to another older lady around his grandmother’s age, though not as well looking come to think of it, accompanied by a younger woman.
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. That could be an answer. Distract Gran with a kindred spirit. Maybe arrange to have them sit together at dinner. He glanced at the girl. She had a nice smile so even if Gran tried to pair him off with someone else, it wouldn’t be too bad. Anywhere away from Kelsie Summers.
Truth be told, he didn’t understand why he was dwelling on such a chance encounter with a woman he’d once fancied in his youth. Well, maybe a little more than that but it wasn’t like he’d carried her with him for all these years—or been celibate. Far from it.
Neither had he found anyone else he could think of joining his life with, a sardonic voice inside suggested, and he impatiently brushed that thought away. A full-time relationship was the last thing he required. He seriously didn’t have time.
The line moved forward and he wondered idly where the luggage for the woman in front was.
Which made him shoot a glance back at where Kelsie’s Suitcase-asaurus Rex was, and decided it was the biggest damn thing he’d ever seen and even she’d have trouble losing that. He wondered if she knew she couldn’t have it in the cabin with her and then shrugged.
And why was that his problem? What was wrong with his brain today? Thankfully the line moved forward and he directed his thoughts to move on too.
His eyes drifted back when the line stopped again. Her suitcase was still there. Might have been a stretch to think that someone would steal it anyway but…
She was back. Sitting next to his grandmother, and they looked like they were having a lovely conversation. He groaned and tried not to crush the tickets in his clenched hand. Kelsie had always been a great listener. He turned back to the line.
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Insidiously, while he stared at the back of the head of the woman in front, his mind drifted to all those plans they’d had when he’d been young and stupid. Plans he’d built in his head during those impressionable teenage years that you never seemed to forget. No matter how hard you tried. The only one he had ever shared them with had been Kelsie because she’d been so much a part of his life then.
The first plan had always been—marry Kelsie. Keep her safe.
Then—become a doctor.
The third—take her to Venice on the Orient Express when they could afford it, because it was the one thing she really did have a fantasy about.
God, he’d been so stupid. he shook his head and returned to the present as the line moved forward again. But there had been other plans and he guessed he’d at least achieved them.
He was a research-based obstetrician. Dealing with infertility. Well respected. His gran would say world renowned but he would have said he was more recognised for being happy to share what he’d learnt. He’d been very busy during the last fifteen years so it was no wonder he hadn’t married.
Gran had informed him she despaired he’d find a wife before she died. No doubt she was pretty keen to see it happen but as far as he was concerned there were a lot of research projects he’d be happy to leave the family fortune to.
In fact, he had a horrible feeling this whole trip had some romantic connotation he was missing and it wasn’t really about diverting Gran’s mind from her recent loss. Something along the lines of if he wouldn’t marry for good sense then he’d better marry for love.
Couldn’t see it happening on a damn train but she’d muttered about some bloke she’d fallen for in her distant past whom she’d met on this train, and he just hoped the old man hadn’t turned in his grave when she’d dropped that little bombshell.
His grandfather had been the father he’d lost the same year he’d lost Kelsie and he’d always thought his grandparents perfectly matched at least. Funny how things in life weren’t always as you expected.
Like meeting Kelsie again after all these years.
CHAPTER TWO
KELSIE GLANCED AT her watch. Ten thirty-five and the train left at ten fifty-seven. She should find her carriage but seriously she wasn’t ready to sit down just yet.
Winsome and her grandson had boarded, and Kelsie carried her tiny overnight satchel—thank goodness for outrageously expensive wrinkle-free clothes—and she tried to slow her agitated feet to an inconspicuous amble.
She’d been almost the last to get her ticket, mainly because she’d wanted to stay well clear of Connor, and had walked up and down the platform ostensibly admiring the ornate carriages but really walking off her agitation at seeing him again.
Connor Black. She’d loved him like a brother since fifth grade when he’d moved from being annoying to mysteriously compelling. Not that all boys had been mysterious—just Connor.
For an only child, having Connor as her friend had seemed an impossible dream, until he’d come across her being bullied by a mean-streaked older boy who’d found the purse she’d lost one afternoon, late in the spring. She could almost smell the scent of falling orange blossoms, and blood, in the orchard where it had happened.
The ensuing bout of fisticuffs had left Connor with bruised knuckles and the other boy with a black eye and split lip, for which Connor had received a caning from the school principal the next day. The thought still made her cringe because it had been her fault.
But Connor had shrugged it off as no account and her hero-worship had been sealed.
She glanced into a window of the train and her reflection smiled ruefully back at her. He’d looked so heroic, his shirt torn, his eyes narrowed as he’d warned the other boy, his gentle grasp of her hand as he’d led her away.
For the rest of that year he’d taken to walking her home, the absolute best part of her day, and she’d never felt unprotected again, even when Connor had gone off to boarding school, because the letters between them had kept them close. Because home hadn’t been such a grand place, with her mother gone and her dad not much use at conversation unless it had been to give an order.
Her dad had expected her to follow the rules, and had been worse since Mum had finally rebelled and left. Although thankfully the fighting had stopped, her dad was so distant Kelsie had felt rudderless in the world until Connor. She’d wash up, do the housework and her homework, and take herself off to bed at dark, and dream of escaping to the city with Connor.
Except for Connor’s correspondence, hers had been a lonely existence, lightened when holidays had come around and Connor would find her and the two would slip away to dream together.
Connor had always been full of dreams. His real mother had drowned in a tragic accident when he’d been twelve and he was always going to be a doctor, always going to save the world. And Kelsie had believed him.
When Connor went to university they would marry. Elope, Connor said, because everyone would say they were too young.
But she was content to wait until Connor said it was time and she began to have dreams of her own. To be a nurse. To be free of her father’s dictatorship. Be with Connor and gladly follow him to the ends of the earth. He’d arrange everything because that’s what he liked to do, and it was easier to say yes.
Finally the day arrived. Her dad forbade her to leave, Connor had forbidden her to be late, and the similarities suddenly dawned on her. Had she been using her romance to escape her father’s control, only to fall into the same trap?
It was an uncomfortable thought that wouldn’t go away now that it had surfaced. It was all so confusing when Connor had been so good to her.
He’d secured rooms for them near his new university, the registry office was booked, and he’d bought her a short white dress for her to wear on the train when she travelled to meet him. He’d admonished her not to daydream and miss the train. Not to lose the ticket. As if by mentioning it he could influence the vagrancies of fate.
She thought about that. And then the doubts crept in just as the hands of the little watch Connor had bought her crept closer to the time they would meet.
She loved Connor. Could see the goodness in him. How much he cared about her. But was she ready to tie herself to another man who would run her life for her so completely? Was she always going to make Connor sigh when she needed rescuing?
Was that what she wanted?
If she was having these thoughts, was it fair to rush into this and maybe one day do what her mother had done and abandon ship?
Of course she didn’t want that but she knew if she tried to explain some of these thoughts to Connor, he’d brush them away as nerves.
But the seeds of doubt grew into full-grown wisdom trees on the train as she twisted the hem of the white dress between her fingers and watched the stations flash by.
Until, finally arriving, Kelsie hung back.
She loved him. The man was a serious hero. Too much of one to spoil his chance of the career he was destined for by dragging him back by her doubts. Or expect him to marry her just because he’d proposed in an impulsive moment. So she sent a note saying she was safe but she wasn’t coming.
They were both too young and she wasn’t able to contemplate being a burden on him. Plus there was the matter of her threatened independence. He deserved so much more but she hadn’t been brave enough to tell him.
She had already seen herself frustrate him when she lost things, seen his doubts after he’d impulsively proposed, knew how much easier it would be for him to realise his dreams of becoming a doctor unencumbered by a young, unskilled bride.
The next day, after a lonely night in a sleazy motel she ran to her only other relative, her mother’s much older unmarried sister, a midwife in Sydney, and that’s when her life really began to change.
She’d come a long way since then. A long way.
All the way to Venice.
Kelsie blinked at the reflection in the window—the face staring back at her was
n’t hers. A woman, eyebrows raised in disapproval at her invasion of privacy, stared back haughtily and Kelsie blinked. Wake up.
Her cheeks heated as she walked away. She’d been staring into the past—not the window. If she didn’t watch out she’d spoil her once-in-a-lifetime trip worrying about a man who had every right to hate her.
Because maybe she should have waited to find out if Connor had agreed with her reasons. Talked about it with him. But by then it had been too late, and she’d lost touch and the confidence that he would forgive her.
And her career had taken off until the serene, confident maternity unit manager she’d become barely resembled the young girl who’d run away instead of getting married. Except for the occasional misplaced item when she was tired.
Kelsie strode purposefully up to the immaculately presented, blue-suited guard, his quaint round porter’s hat stiff with its gold-trimmed peak, the whole confection jammed importantly on his head. She presented her ticket as he held out his white-gloved hand.
‘Welcome to the Orient Express, madam.’ He bowed, took her satchel, assisted her up the steps like precious cargo, and once she was safely aboard gestured for her to follow him up the narrow wood-panelled corridor.
Finally aboard the Orient Express, she could feel a smile plastered on her face.
‘Come this way, please.’
The air inside swirled pleasantly cool around her still-hot cheeks and hinted of different perfumes and metal polish and cedar oil and old wood. Kelsie couldn’t help glancing into the cabins as she followed him, interested in her fellow passengers, she assured herself, not nervously checking for Connor, and most of the passengers looked up and smiled back.
The cabin before hers held a young woman who seemed huddled in her coat, but the door was pulled shut as soon as she passed.
Kelsie winced. She was going to have a good time if it killed her or she had to kill somebody else—namely Connor Black for making her doubt herself.
The conductor stopped at her cabin and gestured grandly. ‘Your seat, madam.’
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