The Sky Beneath Her(29)
“What would you wish for, Miss Stein?” Dr. Brooks asked.
To save those I loved. To be free. For a long life in the United States. To become a new person. “I’ve made too many wishes, and they always come with a twist.” My candor surprised me.
“Sounds ominous,” Dr. Brooks said.
“The world is in a tenuous place now, and it doesn’t need me dictating what should come next,” I said.
“You sell yourself short,” Mr. DuPont said. “I would bet you have very good instincts.”
“Are you superstitious, Mr. Weller?” Dr. Brooks asked.
“Not at all. I don’t believe in such things.” He raised the wineglass to his lips, but this time he didn’t sip, as if the taste had soured his stomach.
Dr. Brooks chuckled. “Mr. Weller, you aren’t afraid to take risks.”
“Never.” More sweat dampened his shirt. A look toward Mrs. DuPont suggested he was anxious to shift Dr. Brooks’s attention back to her. “What would you wish for, Mrs. DuPont?”
She relaxed as if grateful to be pulled into the conversation. “Peace,” she said. “We need this war to stop.”
Dr. Brooks nodded. “Very wise wish.”
I questioned Mrs. DuPont’s real desire. Many people were profiting greatly from this war. I assumed Mr. DuPont was one of them.
“I suspect, by your accent, you’re from the northeast of the United States,” Dr. Brooks said.
Mr. DuPont nodded. “New Hampshire. Our family has been there for two hundred years.”
As they chatted about the towns of New England, I marveled at the doctor’s talent for drawing people into his sphere. “And you, Miss Stein, what did you do in Vienna?”
“I was an actress,” I said.
“Ah, a woman of the arts.”
I grinned. “Some would say that.”
“I hear hints of southern Germany when you speak,” Dr. Brooks said.
“I have traveled through many cities. You have an ear for accents.”
He nodded. “An odd little talent. But it makes for good dinner conversation. It’s been a decade since I was in Munich.”
“For me as well.”
“Beyond the river, my favorite area in Vienna is the Hotel Imperial, near the opera. And the Hofburg Palace. Stunning in the spring. And the theater is magnificent.”
My face brightened. “It’s the world’s best, in my opinion.”
“You’re so far from home. Most young women never stray far from their village.”
“As I said, I grew up traveling.” My parents never stayed long in any one city. We would dock our boat and wait for the locals to find us and ask us for whatever their neighbors might frown upon. But it wouldn’t be long before our presence angered others, and so we moved on. I was fourteen when I’d decided Vienna would be my home.
William cleared his throat. He was frowning. My guard rose.
William’s cheeks were flushed now. “The wine is an excellent choice, Dr. Brooks. Thank you.”
Some of Dr. Brooks’s good humor faded. “I’m glad you like it.”
At the rate William was going, I suspected he was unwell. He met my gaze. “Sigrid, I’m going to retire early. All the travel has caught up to me.”
I set my wineglass down. “Would you mind if I have my dinner?” I was enjoying the company and being out of the small cabin.
“You can have a tray sent to the room.” William stood and wobbled slightly.
Wine hadn’t been his first choice, but he’d never had trouble with it. I laid my napkin beside my plate, ready to rise.
“Let Miss Stein enjoy her meal with us,” Mrs. DuPont said. “We’ve only just touched on myths and magical creatures.”
William frowned, swayed a fraction.
“Mrs. DuPont and I will look after Miss Stein,” Dr. Brooks said. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. DuPont?”
“But of course,” Mrs. DuPont said.
“Sigrid,” William said.
The warning was clear. One day I wouldn’t care about his opinions, but for now I needed him happy. I rose from the table and moved to his side. “Thank you all for a lovely evening.”
Dr. Brooks waved over a steward. “Can you help Mr. Weller back to his cabin? The poor man is exhausted.”
The steward took William’s arm. His body tensed, and he’d have pulled away, but the extra support was clearly now welcome. “See you all in the morning.”
I moved slowly and carefully out of the room and followed behind William and the steward. As we climbed the stairs, the very pregnant woman I’d seen earlier was at the bottom step. She stood to the side and ducked her head as we passed. Whatever curiosity I had for her vanished when William doubled over.
Chapter Ten
Gertrude
Monday, April 20, 1942, 7:00 p.m.
Four days until the Oceanus is torpedoed
A couple passed by me. The woman was attending to a man who didn’t appear well. The first day at sea could be unsettling for some.
As I climbed the stairs, a well-honed talent for seeing danger had me turning. I watched the steward and the man round a corner. The woman’s back was to me, but an uncomfortable sense of familiarity washed over me. Her dark hair, full figure, and straight shoulders that spoke of confidence all reminded me of Vienna.