by Beth Byers
The four-piece quartet was pushed into a corner. There wasn’t a singer and the music was more 1820s style than 1920s style. Vi heard a country dance and saw the guests on the ship trying and failing to make it through the steps.
Vi giggled into her hand when Denny crashed into Ham and then the two of them brushed each other off. They seemed to be having a good time despite everything. Denny took Ham in his arms and danced him around their wives in what looked more like a drunken gallop than any sort of choreographed dance.
“Our friends are idiots,” Jack told her. He pulled her into his arms and over to their friends, crashing into Denny on purpose. He turned at the last moment so Vi wasn’t included in the crash.
“Hullo,” Denny said, catching Vi when she escaped the tangle. “Hullo, Hullo, there. Shall I save you from this brute?”
“I thought you were going to slide into Margaret Hanson’s life and see if you could save her from her brute?”
Denny leaned in and then stage whispered, “She’s not here.”
Vi glanced around the floor noting her brother at the bar with his wife nearby. Neither of the twins, their husbands, or the curvy little blond were in attendance. Vi stepped back and as a group they shuffled to the side of the dance floor. There wasn’t any sort of guidelines for what was considered dance floor and what wasn’t, so there were couples attempting to dance near them while another group of people were chatting a few feet away, drinks in hand.
“Wherever are they?” Vi asked.
“There’s nowhere else to go,” Ham announced. “Rita and I have been looking into it. There’s a particularly anemic little library, a smoking room for the gents that’s too small and quite close, and a gymnasium. No ladies allowed.”
Vi lifted a brow. She paused and then giggled into her hand until Rita demanded, “Why are you laughing?”
“This is what comes of buying tickets on the first ship available. The food isn’t very good, the drinks are intolerable, the dancing is out-of-time, and there’s nothing much to do but walk, sit, and entertain ourselves.”
“We could get the musicians to at least play waltzes,” Lila said. “Waltzing is romantic with the right man, isn’t it? Better than this drivel.”
Violet glanced at Jack, but he’d already started towards the players. She watched as he leaned into speaking with the cellist and then handed over some money. The music shifted from old style country dances to a waltz.
Violet spun towards Jack who held out his hand as he approached, and then they swung into the music. It was lovely to have his arm around her waist and their hands clasped. Vi looked at where their hands held each other and found herself waxing romantic at the sight of her hand, gloved in a long black silk, and the diamond bracelets on her wrist.
Violet and Jack spun round the room with controlled energy in perfect rhythm. She trusted him to lead, and it seemed that the happy dancing of Vi’s party had extended to the others in the room. Vi noticed Victor’s face in the twirling throng and then Lila’s and Kate’s. She saw Ham’s face and the back of Rita’s head, and then she saw Denny, but the short blond bob of Lila wasn’t who he was dancing with. Vi’s gaze widened, and she turned from Jack, leaving herself in his care, and noticed that Denny was dancing with Ruth Nielsen.
Vi smiled when she met the other woman’s gaze, and then turned and found it was Victor, the “pretty and expensive,” dancing with the curvy little blonde. He had a perfectly attentive smile on his face, which Vi knew meant he was bored or upset. It was his mask and he had worn it often before he married Kate.
“Poor Victor,” Vi told Jack, who followed her gaze and then moved them towards her brother.
When they came upon the other couple, Jack asked with a twinkle in his eye, “Might I cut in?”
Vi almost dropped her jaw, but the curvy little blonde glanced between Jack and Victor who were, clearly, equally expensive. The difference was Vi. Kate was a simple woman who wore light jewelry and plainer dresses. Vi liked sparkling things and expensive fashions. The little woman took in Vi’s diamonds with complete and lascivious interest.
Jack swung the woman away and Vi told Victor, “He’s a good egg.”
“He’s bent to your will. I’m sure he couldn’t care less about the details of that woman’s life.”
“There’s nothing else to do,” Vi told him.
Victor held out his hand elegantly and Vi put hers in her twins. “Hello my dear brother.”
“Hello my pretty devil,” he replied. He danced them towards the bar and when he reached it, he placed a pound note on the bar and stepped behind it to make a drink for himself and Vi.
They leaned against the wall and watched Jack charm the pretty woman.
“What’s her name?”
“Milly Kristiansen. She’s the daughter of one of the partners. The two gents who married the twins are in business together with her father.”
“But she seems so much less…”
“She’s a widow,” Victor told his twin with a proud smile that declared he knew that he’d delved into the woman’s life rather quickly for a waltz.
“Is she?” Vi’s tone was pure challenge.
“That’s all I know,” he admitted with a laugh.
Vi grinned and sipped her drink, then frowned at her brother.
“I’m afraid I can only make swill tolerable, darling. The barman isn’t so unskilled. He’s just got nothing but waste water to work with. Darling, we’ll have to shop rather fiercely in Norway to see ourselves set right.”
“Perhaps you can have a trunk made,” Vi suggested. “Something like a mobile bar where you can travel with your own things.”
“Yes,” Victor said immediately. “Bloody hell, Vi. A brilliant aside, but perfect for Carlyle Spirits and Wines. I need to find a…a…luggage maker and then we’ll collaborate on a design of my own.” He frowned, sipped his drink, gagged a little, and nodded firmly. “Yes, of course.”
Vi sipped and watched her husband charm the widow who had been traveling with her father’s partners. Why was she traveling with them? Had she been sent to England to do some errand? She didn’t have fresh enough gowns to have gone for a new wardrobe. Perhaps she’d gone to visit some friend and her father sent her along with his partners to have her looked after.
Violet scrunched her nose at the idea. A widowed woman having to travel with company. It was ridiculous to assume that she would be somehow unable to look after herself. Perhaps it was more…earthy…than that. Perhaps she had found the wisp of an excuse to go along simply so she could chase after her lover. Or was it lovers?
Violet leaned her head on Victor’s arm and said, “I find myself thinking the most sensational thoughts. I think I could write French novels based upon my guesses about those twins, their husbands, and the partner’s daughter.”
“The sensational Mrs. Kristiansen.” Victor snorted. “I suppose we could stop writing about ingenues and their adventures with storms and disturbing noises in the darkness and possible spectres, and write about loose women instead.”
Vi scrunched her nose and said, “It’s going to be a boring journey, but I suppose we’ll survive.”
“I suppose so,” Victor agreed. “Shall we write a book?”
“That’s what Jack suggested.”
They considered each other and then noticed Lila, Denny, and Ruth Nielsen chatting together.
“Denny,” they said in unison.
“He’ll never let it go in favor of a novel,” Victor added. “I suppose we could help him and then spend the rest of our trip sitting by the water.”
Violet took a deep breath and whispered her confession. “I suppose I want to learn more about them too. People are such interesting creatures, aren’t they?”
As though saying that they were interesting was a reasonable way to explain that she was incurably nosy, an unrepentant meddler, and that she was somehow a person who kept to her own devices like she was drawn into her nosiness against her will.
&nbs
p; “They are indeed,” Victor agreed with a humor that said he’d caught her fake excuses and was as amused by them as she was. He elbowed her slightly and Vi’s gaze turned. Mr. and Mrs. Liam Hanson had entered the room. They were arm in arm, and the shawl had been pinned into place. There was a tightness to Margaret Hanson’s mouth, and her gaze was cool and hard.
Were her eyes so cold because of whatever she had been doing? Or were they hard because her husband had taken her in hand once again? Vi reminded herself that she wasn’t certain that it had been the husband who had bruised Margaret, though it did seem rather likely.
“I do want to know what’s happening with those twins,” Victor said low. “I suppose it’s because they’re twins. It’s not like Margaret Hanson is the first wife I’ve seen treated poorly. What would I do if it were you? How can Ruth see whatever is happening and not react?”
“We don’t know that she hasn’t,” Violet said. “She may have begged her sister time and again to leave her husband. Perhaps offered a refuge in her own home.”
“This is where being male and female twins is different. Obviously we aren’t referring to Jack here, but suppose your husband treated you that way? I’d murder him slowly and viciously.”
Vi grinned at her brother and admitted, “I suppose, dear Victor, that you should know that I would do the same for you—man or not.”
Violet laughed at the look on his face and then elbowed him. A man approached the married couple and spoke to them. Whatever he said had Mr. Hanson’s face turning a ruddy furious red. Vi gasped and then watched as Margaret tried to calm both of the men down. She had a placating hand out and her husband snatched her wrist. Violet could tell from her vantage point that the fingers were digging in harshly.
Her brother had straightened and handed Vi his glass. She could see the growing anger on his face and knew he intended to help Margaret Hanson when her sister slipped in between the two with what looked like a casual aside.
In the process, however, Ruth had broken Liam Hanson’s grip on her twin and when the adjusting of the little grouping had finished, Margaret was just behind her sister’s shoulder, Ruth protecting her like a lazy angel.
She said something else, and the dark-haired gent flushed. He shot a comment back at Ruth and, clearly Margaret, and then stepped away, shooting furious glances over his shoulder.
Ruth laughed and then she said something else. It wasn’t nearly so lazy because Vi could see Ruth’s pretty face focused intently on her brother-in-law. Her hand was still on her twin, behind her back, and when she finished her comment, Liam Hanson stepped away.
Vi wanted desperately to eavesdrop on what the twins said to each other. They spoke in what looked like soft half-sentences that reminded Vi of how she and Victor could speak almost without words.
“What a—” Victor didn’t finish.
“Yes.” Vi glanced at him and then noticed the sisters walking away arm-in-arm. “I suppose we’ve discovered the bruiser, that Ruth is more involved than we realized, and that there is another party we didn’t know of before.”
“Who is he?” Victor asked.
“Who is he to Margaret?” Violet finished.
“And what will her husband do about it?”
Chapter 6
Vi had spent the rest of the evening drinking the barely tolerable drinks her brother made and chatting with him. When the twins and their husbands had disappeared, Jack and Ham had followed. Vi had seen the pacing lions in the men and knew the twins would be as safe as they could be.
They hadn’t returned to the ballroom, but Vi wasn’t concerned. This was no party worth lingering in, and she was enjoying the time with Victor. Rita had slipped out, found them smoking cigars near one of the railings, and Victor left them to dance.
“Is Ham struggling as much as Jack?” Vi asked when Victor swung Kate into another dance.
Rita glanced at Vi, her expression deepening with a stark guilt. Their gazes met and Rita nodded lightly.
“I don’t know what to do about it,” Vi admitted. “He said he feels unanchored.”
“Ham doesn’t say anything at all,” Rita muttered. “I can just tell. When we were talking about traveling anywhere, you could see that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of just…just…getting aboard a ship and leaving forever.”
“Do you think that we’re especially spoiled?” Vi asked.
Rita laughed until she cried, holding her stomach. “Most of England is spoiled compared to some of the places I’ve been. And us? Darling, we’re the most spoiled of all.”
“I suppose we are,” Vi admitted.
She took a seat nearby and handed Rita the rather terrible cocktail. Rita took a sip, shuddered, but took another sip anyway. “This was supposed to be so fun.”
Vi glanced at Rita and admitted, “I suspect we’d be less concerned with those twins and their husbands if the women were less beautiful and there was more to entertain us than watching people come and go.”
Rita snorted, sipped, shuddered again, and then said clearly, “I didn’t ask Ham to leave Scotland Yard.”
Vi thought about that. Why had Ham left? “Could it have been your father?”
“Perhaps, in part.” Rita wasn’t as breezy as usual as she admitted it. “I don’t know why. He might say Father had talked to him. But, Ham isn’t a man who does things because another man tells him to. Even Jack listens to Ham.”
“Perhaps things weren’t as comfortable at Scotland Yard for him when we came along and interfered in his life as we have.”
Vi’s Jack had never fully been employed by Scotland Yard and his unique circumstances had been due to Ham. Their relationship existed long before the Yard. It went all the way back to the Great War when Ham ran investigations in the military. They’d been fighting for the survival of their way of life and what made them…them. Ham and Jack hadn’t been able to fight the usual way.
Instead, they’d been sucked into investigative cases among their own people. Soldiers who’d died that shouldn’t have. Missing munitions, blackmail and nefariousness among soldiers who had turned their attention from survival to something else. Something darker. And Ham and Jack and their fellows had stepped in and attempted to set things aright when they could never, actually, be right. The burden of their fight during the war had followed them home as much as their strong friendship.
“What are we supposed to do?” Rita asked.
Vi shook her head and said, “I suspect we should give them time and support them and wait until they find their balance again. It is what Jack has always done for me.”
“But,” Rita’s mouth twisted, “I feel both guilty and afraid.”
“Why are you afraid?” Vi asked softly.
Her brother was heading back this way, and she shot him a telling look. He took it in, winked at her, and tugged his wife from the ballroom.
Rita sighed. “Not everyone finds their balance, Vi. What if they don’t?”
Vi winced at the idea and hoped they would be luckier than that. She fiddled with her wedding ring and said, “I suspect that we just have to have faith in them.”
Rita linked their arms and rose when one of the stewards shot them a dark look that demanded they exit the ballroom so he could finish his work and get to bed. “I should like to be more active than that.”
Violet glanced at the dingy sometimes-ballroom, sometimes-dining room and sighed. Rather than continuing to discuss their gents, Vi said, “I suppose we cannot judge Norway upon the Annabelle.”
“No,” Rita laughed. “Thought we might consider traveling home another way. This ship is…rather awful, isn’t it?”
They left and found Ham and Jack only steps away. It was just like them, Vi thought, to linger nearby. Neither of them seemed tense or unanchored at that moment and Vi smiled gently at her husband. They hadn’t been married all that long. They had only known each other since just before her great aunt’s death and yet he’d become everything to her.
Violet le
aned her head against Jack’s shoulder. “This was the better way to spend this party.”
“The guests are all gone. We’ll be leaving soon.”
“Shall we watch the world change?” Ham asked. His wife was under his arm, and he stared down at her almost in surprise. They’d been in love, they’d been broken apart, they were in love once again, married, but their happy ever after would never be as easy as Vi and Jack’s.
“Let’s,” Rita said easily. They wandered towards the full length lounge chairs and curled into them side-by-side with Ham and Rita in one and Jack and Violet in another.
Within the hour, the ship started to move and they sat in silence. The chug of the ship’s engines and the sound of the occasional person passing by invaded their quiet. After a while, Ham rose and lifted the sleeping Rita in his arms.
“We’re off,” he said low, and Jack and Vi’s only reply was a lifted hand.
Violet pressed her head back against Jack’s chest and turned to face him. “This ship is terrible.”
At the last moment, Violet bypassed asking Jack another question about his state of mind. She met his gaze, and she saw that he knew she was holding back. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and said, “It’s not so bad. It’s not a cattle car.”
“I think I’d almost prefer some squished coach seating that is honest in what it is. This…this…Annabelle pretends to be quite luxurious and fails to deliver.”
“Do we need to know how spoiled you are, darling Vi?”
“Rita has already lectured me on the subject. Did the twins get back to their rooms all right?”
“They’re as safe as we could make them. I told the steward to keep out an ear and paid the fellow to interfere.”
Vi’s mouth twisted and she said, “I wish it were easier for a woman like Margaret Hanson to leave her husband when he hurts her.”
Jack sighed and Violet placed her hands under her chin, propping up her head a little on Jack’s chest.
“It is as easy as her family makes it,” Jack told Violet. “Friends and family are what you need in times such as these are for Mrs. Hanson.”