In Dublin's Fair City by Rhys Bowen Read Free Book Online Page B

if you’d like.”
    She looked horrified. “Oh no, miss. That would never do. I know my place. I’ll have your steward deliver your lunch then, shall I?”
    She curtseyed and was gone. I arranged myself on the daybed in what I hoped was an elegant pose, pretending to be reading a magazine, and waited. Soon thereafter the steward arrived with a lunch tray.
    “I understand you’re feeling poorly, Miss Sheehan,” he said, looking down at me with concern. “That will never do. I’ve brought some things that might build you up—a good bowl of oxtail soup, some poached sole, some grapes, and a glass of ice cream. They should slip down easily enough, shouldn’t they?”
    “Thank you, you’re very kind,” I whispered as he put the tray on the table.
    “That throat sounds terrible,” he said. “Should I summon the ship's doctor to take a look at it?”
    “No, please don’t worry,” I said. “I just need to be left alone and rest. I’m sure I’ll be up and feeling bright again by the time we dock.”
    “There will be a lot of disappointed young men when they hear that news,” he said, giving me a knowing smile. “I’ve had to direct several of them firmly from your door when the news got out that you were aboard. But don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you’re kept in peace for the whole voyage.”
    “Thank you. You’re most kind,” I said, in what I hoped was a gracious and theatrical way. “What is your name again?” “Frederick, miss,” he said.
    “Thank you, Frederick.” I tried to give the sort of smile Oona Sheehan might have flashed at an adoring male.
    The moment he went, I tucked into the tray. Everything was beyond delicious. For a person who grew up eating stew and potatoes, I had certainly learned quickly to appreciate fine food and fine wine. With great daring I went over to the silver ice bucket and poured myself a glass of that champagne.
    Rose appeared again after lunch, wanting to know what she could do for me, but I couldn’t think of anything and sent her away. I couldn’t imagine ever wanting a personal maid hovering over me, and certainly not dressing me, brushing my hair, and fussing around me, even if I became very rich some day—which wasn’t likely to happen. At least Rose could enjoy some freedom and have fun with her own kind during the voyage.
    By midafternoon I was bored with sitting alone and decided to risk a sortie. I put on Oona's black velvet cape, trimmed with white fur, and raised the hood cautiously over the wig. Then I found a lace handkerchief to hold over my mouth and ventured out. My faithful Frederick was standing guard at the entrance to my hallway. He sprang to attention when he saw me.
    “Feeling better, Miss Sheehan? Oh, that is good news.”
    “I’m afraid not, Frederick,” I whispered through the handkerchief, “but I hoped that a turn on deck and a good dose of sea air might be beneficial.”
    “It certainly might, Miss Sheehan. And you’re not likely to run into trouble, if you get my meaning. Most of the first class passengers take a rest after lunch so that they can stay up late for the dancing.”
    I felt a pang of regret that I would have to forego the dancing. For asecond I pictured myself in one of those silk evening gowns being whisked across the floor under glittering chandeliers. Then, of course, I reminded myself that I didn’t know how to dance any of the latest dances anyway and certainly not as elegantly as Oona Sheehan would have done.
    “If you like to find yourself a deck chair, miss,” Frederick said, “I’ll arrange for a rug to be sent out to you and a cup of beef broth.”
    “I think I’ll just take a little walk this time,” I said. I pulled the hood even farther forward and stepped out on deck. I was unprepared for the force of the wind, as it nearly lifted hood and wig in one go. I clung onto both, turned my back on the wind and walked in an anticlockwise direction around the promenade deck until I was out of