Page 5 of Daghel

“All aboard!”

It takes an embarrassing amount of effort to extricate myself from those sitting beside me. They may be in no hurry to get up, but I am. Digging in my heels, I wrench myself from between them and the force of it sends me stumbling forward before I catch myself. I straighten with as much dignity as I can muster and adjust my grip on my valise before heading into the train with my head held high.

As I feared, the car is already rapidly filling up, and I’m forced to squeeze between people finding their seats as I search for my seat among the pairs of tall benches sitting back to back with each other, creating paired facing seats running down both sides of the car. I scowl as I struggle past a small group of people clustered in the aisle, just barely holding my tongue to keep from cursing when a woman’s shrill voice rises over the noise of the car just behind me.

“Wait, I know her! Conductor, I must insist that you remove that woman at once. I will not share a compartment with a… a… whore,” she finishes, her words met with an appalled gasp from her companion.

There is no doubt in my mind of whom she speaks. I can feel eyes boring into me, and from the corner of my eye I see a gentleman cast me a nervous glance before quickly looking away. Of course I could not escape my reputation so easily.

My back stiffens, and my chin lifts slightly as I turn to my accuser. I recognize her immediately and my mouth thins as I greet Giles’ young niece, Chelsea Kenning, with a cool smile.

“Miss Kenning. I thought perhaps there was some terrible harridan behind me. Imagine my surprise. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” I say with feigned surprise.

Her face flushes red as the gentleman beside her tries to politely cover the amused twitches of his lips behind a cough. At the far end of the train, I spot the conductor making his way toward us as he slowly pushes his way through the crowd.

“It’s nothing of the sort,” she returns, her voice shrill with her disdain. “And just what are you doing here? Searching for your next target now that dear Uncle Giles is gone? It’s a good thing that I was aware of exactly who and what you are or else the family wouldn’t have known to turn a predator like you away from the door.”

“Predator?” I echo in disbelief as I try to ignore the curious looks that are turning our way and the intrigue in the eyes of more than one gentleman on the train with us. Even her companion is looking at me far too speculatively for my comfort. “How presumptuous. And I suppose your uncle was a victim in your eyes and bears no responsibility for his actions?”

“Of course. Many men have been easily led astray by the allure of a woman of your sort. It is only natural that, as his family, I was duty-bound to protect him and his interests.”

“His estate, you mean,” I observe dryly. “You certainly never voiced your disapproval when he was alive. You did exactly the opposite, displaying nothing short of enthusiasm that he was enjoying my companionship after being a childless widower for so many years. I assume now that it was merely to make sure that you remained favorable and within his will.”

Her gasp of outrage is satisfying, but I notice that the conductor is making his way to us even quicker now. Apparently her gentleman companion has noticed, too, because he twitches nervously before leaning down to speak intimately to her.

“Chelsea, perhaps we should find our seat now,” he murmurs. “We have a long way to go before we reach Tryg Station.”

“Victor, please,” she hisses in reply. “How can you possibly expect me to endure traveling while I know thatsheis breathing the same air as us?”

I lift my eyebrows, but not in response to her behavior. She is pitifully inconsequential. I’m far more curious about the place he mentioned. I’ve heard of Tryg Station. “Isn’t that the private station attached to Dwenell University in the Kantan region?”

Victor looks at me in surprise, and he gives me a jerky nod. “It is… Have you studied, by chance?”

“Her?” Chelsea’s bark of laughter isn’t flattering, but I ignore her as I shake my head, hating that I’m unable to rub it in her face.

“I have never been out of the capital city, but I did attend Zyl’s Nova Tuela University,” I explain. “There were professors and a few students who had come to us from that prestigious institution.”

His eyebrows rise in polite interest. “An academic. I hardly suspected it. Chelsea won’t even read the morning paper as she claims that it is too dull and taxing for what should be a pleasurable rising.”

“Ah,” I murmur, and press my lips together to contain my smile as the other woman jealously clings to his arm. “Surely that must have changed if you are accompanying her to study at Dwenell,” I reply politely.

He bends a fond look at her and pats her hand. “Actually, we’ve just married. She is the one accompanying me. I graduated with my doctorate just last spring and have received an offer to teach.” His gaze shifts back to me, and his lips curve in a way that sends apprehension up my spine. “You should considerattending and advancing your education even further, given that you’ve already been afforded a very good academic start.”

Chelsea giggles. “Darling, please. She is as destitute as a door mouse. I made sure that she didn’t receive even a penny of Uncle Giles’ estate. And don’t look at me that way,” she suddenly chides when he frowns down at her. “My inheritance is what is funding our new life at Dwenell. Don’t forget that. Which wouldn’t have been possible if she had inherited even a portion of his estate, as he wished her to. It was my quick thinking that prevented the family from intervening on her behalf. So, really, you have me to thank, my love”

My jaw tightens at her bold declaration. I should have known. She hadn’t turned me away from the door merely for some petty reason or dislike I had been previously unaware of. She had done everything she could to make sure that she inherited it all.

“Of course, dear,” he murmurs as he lifts her hand and drops a kiss on it. His eyes shift to the conductor, and I follow his gaze.

Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor. And the conductor does not appear to be in any mood to deal with Chelsea’s foolishness. I can’t afford to be thrown off this train. Mr. Barkley would want an explanation. I’m not ready to deal with the fallout.

“Chelsea is right,” I reply, drawing a look of surprise from the other woman. “Sharing a car will be uncomfortable for both of us, I suspect. I will go to the next car.” I dip my head respectfully. “Chelsea, Victor… it was a pleasure,” I lie.

She sniffs dismissively as I turn away, but I can hear her whisper even across the distance separating us.

“I’m going to have that bitch thrown off at the next station,” she grumbles.

“Now, darling…”