Free Glittering Promises by Lisa T. Bergren Page A

Wallace. “It’s good you brought me in.”
    “Yes, well, come inside and join us for luncheon. You can apprise our children of your goals. And your rules.”
    The two men turned and went inside, while the rest of the group shared looks of concern. It had to chafe for them all to be referred to as “children.” All the light and freedom Will had glimpsed in Cora moments before seemed to disappear like air from a balloon. He squeezed her hand where it rested on his arm. “It’ll turn out all right,” he said.
    “Will it?” she returned, lifting the issue of Life as if it were her obituary.
    “Sure,” he said with a smile. “If we got through the first article in Life , we can certainly manage the second.”
    ~Cora~
    We sat down at the long pine table and ate a hearty vegetable stew accompanied by crusty bread. It reminded me of something my mama made, and a pang of longing for her and Papa washed through me. How long until they received the message I’d sent? Did they know the good news now? I hoped so. There was so much in accepting my father’s offer that wasn’t pleasant, I decided as I looked at Mr. Grunthall. My eyes moved to Will. And yet there was so much that was. Slipping free of our financial nooses came at a cost. But it’d be worth it. It will be worth it , I repeated to myself as Simon Grunthall droned on about the importance of guarding every conversation, of finding out the employ of each person we met before sharing personal details, of bringing him in whenever possible.
    “But Mr. Grunthall,” Lillian protested, “you are proposing we shield ourselves from every person we are yet to meet. Part of what the Grand Tour is about is meeting interesting and new people.”
    “And so you shall, young Miss Kensington,” he said with a curt nod. “Only with my guidance. My goal is to protect you all.”
    He finished his last bite of stew and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. His eyes moved to me and then on to the others. “While I shall be available to all of you, my primary concern is Miss Cora.” His dark eyes returned to me. “You have become quite the item of interest in America, my dear.”
    I shifted in my seat, not liking his uninvited use of my first name, the overly personal use of “my dear,” or the implication that he would be watching me every moment. “I’m certain you are overstating their interest,” I said. “Besides, I have no secrets now that everyone knows of my parentage. People will soon tire of me, even if I briefly caught their attention.”
    “Ahh, but we all have secrets, don’t we?” he asked, his eyes penetrating, invasive. “Even now,” he said with a flick of his wrist toward me, “you are inventing new ones.”
    “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
    He laughed, but no humor reached his eyes. “Women are complex and subtle creatures. It will take me some time, but I am interested in ferreting out any nuance of a story that might attract the undue interest of a journalist who wishes to exploit you.”
    “What on earth does that mean?”
    “There is no rush,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “We shall begin tomorrow with interviews.”
    “You mean to interview me,” I said flatly.
    “Most exhaustively,” he said with a smile, raising his goblet in the air in a sort of mock toast.
    “I don’t care for your Mr. Grunthall,” I said to my father when I found him outside. He was alone, smoking a cigar.
    “You will in time, Cora,” he returned tiredly. He took a deep draw on the cigar and let the smoke escape his mouth in a lazy cloud. “Trust me in this. I have become quite good at protecting my children. And while he might come across as overbearing, Simon Grunthall will protect you in ways I cannot. He comes with the highest recommendations from friends in the East.”
    Felix and Hugh came outside. They’d changed into more casual clothes. “The girls are changing and joining us for a game of croquet, Cora,” Felix said.