“Of course. Allow me to load the bags into the auto. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Cases clunked against one another, and his heavy footsteps moved away. Chaisley waited for Melanie to be at her side.
Melanie took her elbow. “He’ll need to make one more trip for the rest of the luggage. Are you ready?”
“I am.” She pinched her lips together. “But I don’t wish to use the cane right now. It calls too much attention to me.”
“I understand. I’ll just whisper directions as we go.” The clicking of the wood as Melanie folded up Chaisley’s long walking stick was a familiar sound. “I’ll tuck it into my bag and have it, just in case.”
“Thank you.” When she’d first heard of the foldable cane, Chaisley had contacted Dr. Grafton to find out if she could order one made to her specifications. The long stick had been a lifesaver to her on many occasions, serving as her eyes when she was in a new location.
A whoosh of air blew through the room. Chaisley paused. The driver’s steps were different this time. Quicker. Lighter. Brass buckles clacked against one another. Ah, he was gathering the rest of the luggage.
“If you’ll follow me.” His voice was a baritone. Smooth and rich.
Melanie’s palm slipped beneath Chaisley’s elbow and navigated her toward the door. “It’s narrow and then a sharp right turn down the hallway. That will be familiar. Until we get to the gangplank.”
Chaisley nodded and walked beside her friend, hearing the sounds of other passengers preparing to leave the echoing ship.
“Left. At least ten steps straight. Stay close to me, the gangplank is much narrower than in England. A bit steeper as well.”
Chaisley had learned to navigate the world quite well on her own, but situations like this, where a misstep could mean a fall—or worse—she accepted assistance. “I’ll hold onto the belt of your dress and walk directly behind you. No need for me to call more attention to myself by falling off the gangplank.”
“Just play like you are afraid of heights. No one will think a thing of it.”
Chaisley took hold of her friend’s belt. The leather was smooth and firm under her fingers. “I’m ready.”
“Here we go. Slight step up to the ramp and then a steep decline toward the dock. It’s at least two hundred feet in length.” Melanie moved forward.
With a deep breath, Chaisley stepped up and felt the decline of the ramp under her feet. She put a hand over her brow acting like she couldn’t bear to look down. They moved at anadagiopace down the gangplank. Their slow tempo was easy, their steps rhythmic. Chaisley listened to each step Melanie took before she took her own. She scrunched her nose at the salty sea air, thick with the aroma of fish. Thank goodness a stiff wind kept the air moving past.
The clanging of metal against metal evoked a picture of the buoys around the lighthouse near her childhood summer home. It was the same sound now, but multiplied. How many ships were in the harbor? There were enough voices for a crowd of several hundred. The voices—accompanied by the horns of the ships, all at different pitches, and the lapping of the waves against the dock below—were a veritable symphony.
After her ninety-fifth step, Chaisley felt Melanie come to a stop.
Her companion’s rushed whisper reached her ears. “Take a large step forward. There’s a gap.”
She did as instructed and then Melanie took her elbow again and they fell into step, side by side.
“The car is straight ahead. Nothing between us and it, about forty paces.”
At the vehicle, Melanie gently tugged her to a stop. “It’s a Phantom limousine, just like the one at home.” The words were so soft they barely reached Chaisley’s ear.
A door released an almost silent creak as it opened, and shereached forward to feel the auto’s frame. She lowered her head as she ducked into the car’s interior. “Thank you, Mr. Zimmerman.”
She slid across the seat to allow Melanie entrance. The soft velvet beneath her moved a bit as her friend sat and then the door clicked closed.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Melanie switched to English. “But I think you need to tell our driver at some point.”
“I will in time. If we are fortunate to have the same driver for the extent of the tour, I’m sure we will get to know him quite well.” The auto shifted—a shift she was used to. The driver was in his seat now.
The engine purred to life, and they moved forward.
Papers shuffled beside her. “According to the information from the service, we are supposed to have the same driver for the entire tour.” Melanie patted her arm.
Chaisley leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Good.”
There was something about the man’s voice ... the warmth in it.
