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“Oui,bien sûr.” Frau Spreitzer handed the cake to Julia, leaning over the cart’s top and speaking as if sharing a confidence. “But sadly, this year I will not see Guillaume le Buffle.” The older woman raised and lowered her brows. “The American cowboy, he istrès beau, non?”
“He certainly is,” Julia said. Apparently, Buffalo Bill Cody’s admirers extended as far as Lorraine, France. A pity he would not be at this year’s exposition. His Wild West show had been quite well received eleven years earlier. Julia remembered her father purchasing her an American cowboy hat and introducing her to Annie Oakley. “Merci.” She tucked the parcel under her arm and checked the time. Panic flickered in her chest. The train would depart in only eight minutes.
“Enjoy the fair, mademoiselle. And I will see you again, oui? Perhaps in Paris?”
“Bien sûr. Au revoir.” Julia smiled, then hurried away toward the station doors. She crossed through the indoor waiting area and exited into the steam and confusion of the crowded train platform.
She started toward the train but stopped, feeling unsure as she studied the rows of tracks and the different locomotives. She stepped around a stack of trunks and made her way to the platform where she thought her train waited, but the conductor’s uniforms weren’t those of the Orient Express staff. Moving back, she walked to the next platform and started along that way.
Again, she didn’t recognize the train or the uniformed men standing at the doors to the cars. Had the train moved? Or was she simply turned around? She quickened her pace, hurrying back toward the station to find a platform attendant.
Stepping back around the stack of trunks, she nearly bumped into a pair of men. A wave of relief flowed over her when she recognized the one in a black coat. She hadn’t seen Nicholas since before dinner, and even then, it was only very briefly. Herr Klausman had been walking toward the table where she and Frau Maven sat in the restaurant cart when Nicholas had caught up to him, stopping him and introducing him to the diners at a different table, then joining him. Herr Klausman had glanced Julia’s way throughout the meal with an apologetic expression, but she had left before his dinner was finished. Frau Maven had been extremely disappointed to miss out on the gentlemen’s company and had voiced her displeasure continually, ruining what should have been a splendid dinner. Julia always looked forward to the meals on the Orient Express. The cuisine was created by world-renowned chefs and served on sparkling china and crisp white linens with artistically folded napkins. One could not dress too formally, and watching the parade of the most fashionable attire from various countries had always been a favorite part of the journey.
She had been more than happy to bid the woman good night and retire to her own compartment.
“Monsieur Nicholas,” Julia said. “Thank goodness. Please, can you tell me—?”
“Mademoiselle Weston.” Nicholas’s eyes lit up, and he removed his pipe. “Zeh very person I hoped to see.” He stepped to the side and motioned to his companion. “You must meetmon bon ami, Monsieur Luc Paquet.”
“Bonjour, Monsieur Paquet.” Julia kept her voice polite but couldn’t help but glance back toward the trains.
Nicholas hung the pipe back in his mouth and held out his other hand toward Julia with a flourish. “And here we have zeh delightful Mademoiselle Julia Weston.”
Monsieur Paquet pulled off his hat to reveal a head of dark-blond hair. He bowed.“Un plaisir de vous rencontrer, mademoiselle.”
Julia determined immediately that M. Paquet was French but not Parisian. His accent was rural, as were his manners—the deep bow was rather old-fashioned, as was the greeting. What could a gentleman such as Nicholas possibly have in common with a man with such a low social status?
Monsieur Paquet lifted his gaze to hers. Deep brown eyes surrounded by dark lashes looked into her own. The color was surprisingly warm, and just for a moment, she stared.
At that instant, a puff of smoke came from Nicholas’s pipe, filling the air with a lavender scent.
Julia shook her head, thinking her worry and lack of sleep must have her imagining things. Pipe smoke didn’t smell like lavender. And she was nearly certain Nicholas’s pipe hadn’t been lit.
“Monsieur Paquet returns to Provence from Athens,” Nicholas said.
“How nice.” Julia looked back at the trains again, pulling her wrap tighter around her shoulders and shifting the cake into her other arm.
“He brings a shipment of olive cuttings for his orchard,” Nicholas continued.
“Ah,” Julia said, willing herself not to check the time again. “I see.”
Monsieur Paquet’s gaze flicked to the feathers in her hair. And though the politeness never left his expression, Julia got the impression he thought her attire ridiculous for a train station.
Heat moved up her neck, and she lifted her chin. She didn’t give one fig about this rustic’s opinion of her appearance. His faded trousers were wrinkled, his bouclé coat worn, and his thick boots could benefit immensely from a few moments at Igney-Avricourt’s new shoe-shining booth. A tickle of guilt wiggled in her stomach at her unkind thoughts, but Julia’s worry over missing her train overrode any remorse for the harsh judgment.
“Nicholas, I’m afraid I’m rather lost,” Julia said. “Can you show me to the right train?”
The man in black turned fully toward her, tipping his head and taking his pipe out of his mouth with a slow movement as he considered her. “Sometimes zeh right train is not zeh right train, eh?” He glanced at his silver pocket watch, closing it with a snap.
Frustration and worry tightened her chest. She had no time for riddles. The train would depart at any moment. “Please, sir. I must hurry.”
“Come along, zen, mademoiselle.” Nicholas offered his arm, tipping his hat in farewell to the other man. “I shall see you safely aboard.”
“Thank you.” She took his arm. “Au revoir, Monsieur Paquet.”
“Au revoir, Mademoiselle Weston.”
Julia allowed herself to be led along a smoky platform to the stairs leading onto the train. The conductor was apparently helping another passenger, so Nicholas assisted her as she climbed aboard.
