Free The Chaperone by Laura Moriarty

ducked to speak to Cora quietly. “Ma’am? Table for one?”
    “No, thank you. I—”
    “Cora!” Louise waved a white linen napkin. “Cora! I’m over here!”
    She did not fool Cora for a moment, pretending she thought everything was fine. Myra could have raised her in a barn, and still, a girl her age knew better than to sit at a table with a man she did not know.
    “Come join us!” Louise waved the napkin again. “Please help! I’ll never finish this lunch alone.”
    The train leaned around a curve, and Cora grabbed on to a pole. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t stomp out of the dining car and leave Louise. She couldn’t grab her by the arm and drag her out as well—she would only draw attention to the indiscretion. Also, she needed to eat. If she left now, she’d just have to come back, and either bring Louise with her or leave her unattended in their section. Louise’s new friend smiled, apparently untroubled by her invitation. He’d left his bowler on a peg by the table, revealing salt-and-pepper hair that was just starting to thin at the temples. He was at least middle-aged, Cora saw now, closer to Alan’s age, and he was powerfully built, wide at the shoulders. Next to him, hatless Louise looked even smaller and younger than she was.
    “Ma’am? Will you be joining them?” The waiter gestured toward the table. If he knew of Cora’s predicament, or the awfulness of the situation, he showed no interest whatsoever.
    She nodded and followed him to the booth, glancing at the other diners, watching for expressions of disapproval, or worse, recognition. She intended to slink into the seat facing Louise and the man, but when she tried, still glancing around the car, she found herself, to her horror, in the lap of another man.
    “Oh my goodness!” She jumped up, almost bumping into the waiter, who, instead of helping to steady her, took a quick step away, his hands behind his back.
    Louise’s laugh was more of a whoop. She actually leaned back in her seat and clapped. “Oh, Cora. I thought you would see him!”
    “Terribly sorry,” said the other man, who was sliding out of the booth now, trying to stand. “Terribly sorry,” he repeated, though it was clear from his voice that he was as amused as Louise. He was younger than the other man, a little younger than Cora, with high cheekbones and thick blond hair. “I didn’t realize…”
    “My mistake. Please sit. Please,” Cora whispered. She needed him to sit so she could sit. Heat crept up her neck. The man obliged, and she sat beside him. He smiled politely at her, but his gaze moved back to Louise.
    “Sorry I crept off without you.” Louise reached across the table to touch Cora’s arm. “I was just famished, and you looked so peaceful. Did you have a nice nap?”
    “Yes. Thank you.” Cora tilted her head so the brim of her hat would hide her face from the men, and gave Louise a steely look. Louise smiled and resumed cutting into a very large piece of chicken.
    “Anyway, when I got here, all the tables were full, and these gentlemen were kind enough to offer me a seat. Cora, this is Mr. Ross, and this is his nephew, also Mr. Ross. Isn’t that nice?” She stabbed her fork into the chicken. “Twice as easy to remember.”
    “Call me Joe,” the older man said, with a pleasant nod of his head.
    “I’m Norman,” said the younger man.
    “Mrs. Carlisle.” Cora smiled curtly. Despite the steady whirl of the electric fan, cigar smoke stung her eyes. A waiter set a glass of water by her plate, along with a menu. Cora, coughing a bit, asked for lemonade.
    “Are you hungry?” Louise used her fork to point to her plate, on which remained over half of a chicken breast, and another, still untouched. “The chicken is good. But the portions are humongous. Do you just want some of mine? I can’t eat all this.”
    The chicken did look good, roasted the way Cora liked it. And even with the cigar smoke wafting through the air, even