Page 30 of Angel's Flight
“You’ll be fine,” Howard sighed.“One day the muse will strike.”
“The Angel of Music,” Christine murmured.“My father said the angel blesses musicians with inspiration.Erik was mine.”
“See?He’s a gift from God,” Jack argued, and Howard rolled his eyes.
“What if you go west?Jack is obsessed with all the stories of cattle thieves and train robbers in the desert out there.”
“That doesn’t sound too hospitable,” Christine said with a grimace.She had read some of those stories, too, and other tales of the vast lands America had claimed for herself in recent years.It felt wrong to expand so violently into the wild.
“How far is the ticket office?”Christine asked.“I would like to have all this arranged as soon as possible.”
“It’s on the other side of town, alas,” Jack replied.
“Then we should leave,” Christine declared, gulping down the rest of the coffee and springing from the table, much to the shock of the men.It served them right for making her question this choice of America (as well as her entire purpose in life).
The men followed her as she made her way to the front of the house and stepped into the street.No hat or gloves, which would mark her as very unladylike, but she didn’t want to search for them.Someone must have been shocked because Christine noted a female figure dart away as soon as she was outside.
“Which way?”she asked, breathing in the scent of the morning, still moist with dew.
“Right, my dear,” Howard chuckled, and Christine took off down the street.She had to keep moving or the gnawing anxiety inside her would catch up to her and swallow her whole.She had to accomplish something today that was meaningful and move them in some direction, even if it wasn’t the right one.She had to—
“Christine?”The female voice was not one Christine expected to hear, and she spun in shock to look at the speaker.
“Pauline?”Christine balked as the young woman embraced her, much to the chagrin of the men with her.“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see the architecture,” Pauline replied with a smile as she withdrew.She was in her customary sort of dress, collar buttoned high and her little cravat tidy, but her spectacles were askew and a few wisps of brown hair had escaped from under her hat.As if she had rushed to reach Christine.“I was inspired when you said you were visiting the hill towns.I didn’t expect to see you here!”
“I – we—” Christine glanced at Jack and Howard.“We decided to meet a friend here, instead.”
Christine’s mind raced back to her last encounter with Pauline, right before Erik had spirited them off for their beautiful tour of Florence.When Pauline’s questions had become too much for her, and she had lied about leaving.
“Isn’t it a lovely city?”Pauline said, looking between Christine and her male companions and clearly expecting an introduction.Christine made a decision and twined her arm with Howard’s.
“It is.We have adored it.Pauline, I know you wanted to meet my husband.Your wish is granted,” Christine said with a smile.She watched Pauline’s face, and for a second, her smile faltered before she extended her hand.
“It is a pleasure,” Pauline said.“I would say that Christine has told me so much about you, but that is unfortunately not the case.You must be Jack.”
Jack extended a hand, and Pauline took it, as Christine’s stomach twisted.“Indeed.Though only my friends call me that.You can call me Signore—”
“We really must be off,” Christine cut in.Pauline blinked, and if Christine hadn’t been an actress herself, she wouldn’t have seen how she struggled for a moment to keep her mask up.
“Where are you headed?Perhaps we are going in the same direction,” Pauline asked sweetly.
“I'm escorting my friends to the navigation office, much against my will,” Jack replied, and Christine wanted to throttle him.“Perhaps you can convince them that America is a terrible place.”
“America!”Pauline gasped.“Oh dear, that is too far!Monsieur Gilbride, you can’t be serious.”
“I think it will suit us,” Howard said slowly, looking at Christine for some guidance.
Christine let go of Howard’s arm and advanced a step toward Pauline.The woman’s smile wavered again.“You’re right.I never told you much about my husband.Including his name.”
“Surely you did,” Pauline tried to laugh.“Or yours.”
“I did not tell you about Jack either,” Christine replied, cool and calm.“Jack, who you could have followed here to Lucca yesterday.”
Pauline made a scoffing sound that was immediately cut off by the force of Christine’s fist driving into her jaw.Pauline stumbled back, gripping her face as the men gaped at Christine’s show of violence.
“What on earth?”Pauline whined.
