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He inclined his head. “This is Colette. She will be your maid for the day.”
She inclined her head and murmured, “Bonjour, mademoiselle.”
My French was atrocious, but I managed to return her greeting.
“Ricardo has booked your train ticket for this afternoon at five,” Whit said. “You’ll spend the night in Alexandria, and the boat leaving for Argentina will depart early the next morning. He’s still trying to secure achaperone that will accompany you for the whole of the journey.” The corners of his mouth deepened, and an amused glint lurked in his blue gaze. “No more wearing black and pretending to be a widow, I’m afraid.”
“It sounds like it’s all sorted,” I said dryly. “Though you didn’t have to tell me about it thisearlyin the morning.”
“I told you,” he said, looking down at his nails. “Your resourcefulness was duly noted. I’m not taking any chances.”
I gripped the doorknob and set my mouth to a mulish line.
“Colette is going to help you pack and dress, et cetera, et cetera,” Mr. Hayes added around a huge yawn.
I raised a brow. “Long night?”
His smile pulled toward the right of his face, charmingly crooked. Probably like his conscience. “Have you not heard of the bar at Shepheard’s? It’s legendary. The best of humanity gathered round to gossip, deal, manipulate, and inebriate.” Mr. Hayes let out a little cynical chuckle. “My kind of people.”
“What an adventure! Since you’re packing me off like a crate meant for the post, I guess I won’t get to experience it for myself.”
“Young ladies aren’t invited,” he said. “Because of the aforementioned gossiping, dealing, manipulating, and inebriating. Apparently your sensibilities can’t handle that level of debauchery.”
I found the subtle note of sarcasm in his tone intriguing. I opened my mouth to reply but he looked toward my new maid. Colette regarded me curiously when I tried to tell her in French that I didn’t need her services for the day. Mr. Hayes let out a strangled laugh at my probable poor pronunciation.
“I don’t need a maid to dress or help me pack,” I repeated. “Why bother since I’m not leaving this room?”
“Colette stays,” Mr. Hayes said, and then he turned to her and spoke quickly in French. It sounded like he was reciting poetry, and I wasashamedof myself for thinking it.
“You’re fluent in French,” I said in resignation. “Of course you are. What did you say?”
Mr. Hayes smirked. “I warned her of your general sneakiness.”
Colette stepped around me to venture inside. I let her pass because I was uninterested in arguing in busy hallways. Everyone in this hotel rose early, it seemed. Guests walked in between our conversation with a politeexcuse me.
“Now stay put, Olivera.”
How were we on such informal terms? My mother would have been appalled. I think Iwasappalled.
“I dislike your mandates.”
“I know. Why do you think I do it?” He tucked his hands deep into his pockets, no doubt planning something else that would likely annoy me.
“You’re despicable.”
Mr. Hayes laughed, and I slammed the door in his face.
After a second, I opened the door again and snatched the paper from his grip, simply to annoy him. He laughed harder as I slammed the door for the second time. By the time I made it back to my room, Colette had already pulled out one of my linen day dresses. She looked it over and nodded and then shook out the wrinkles. She carried herself with a confident air. Her appearance wasn’t unexpected—my uncle had warned me after all—but studying her now, I understood that she’d be a hard person to bribe. She struck me as a person who would take her job very seriously.
Admirable of her, but inconvenient for me.
I was going to Khan el-Khalili, even if I had to steal a carriage to do it.
But first I had to figure out a way to dodge Mr. Hayes and his infuriating winks. Behind his easy smiles, I sensed he paid particular attention to his surroundings, belying an intuitive and perceptive ability to read people. And as he took care to mention, he’d noted my ability to worm my way out of hairy situations.
Colette muttered something to herself in French as she pulled out various shoe options.
“Merci.”
