The desire in his eyes flickered then snuffed out and a polite expression slipped in place. “They said it would be over by Christmas the first year. So far, we’ve had four Christmases pass, but this year we can finally celebrate.” He walked to Marina’s bed and grasped her hand. “How about that? Would you like to have a festive Christmas in Scotland this year?”
Marina nodded eagerly. A light no longer feverish danced in her eyes. “How wonderful! We can see if the
Wynn frowned. “You throw socks at the ceiling?”
“
“The dining hall at Thornhill is near three stories tall, but I’ll make a go of getting porridge up there if it brings us luck.”
Marina laughed again, but it quickly turned to coughing. Wynn placed a hand on her back. “Breathe deeply through your nose. Good. Again.” He poured water into a glass from the bedside table and handed it to her. “Small sips. We need to calm the bronchial hairs from agitating your lungs.”
Marina’s eyes widened over the rim of her cup. “I have hairs in my lungs?”
Wynn nodded. “When they get tickled, we cough.” He tossed a wink in Svetlana’s direction.
How effortless he made it all look. Never rushing but always moving with purpose and complete embodiment of his confidence. He was easy to get caught up in. If she wasn’t careful, she might do just that.
Mama ran into the room, her hair still in rag curls and sleep blinking in her panicked eyes. “Has a herd of elephants come
crashing in?” Her attention shot to Marina. “
Coughing less, Marina batted Mama away as she came at her with hands aflutter. “I’m well enough. We have our own doctor here.”
Mama grabbed Wynn by the lapels of his coat, clinging to him like a scuff on a shoe. “I was resting—my nerves, you understand—when I heard a terrible noise like thunderclaps.”
Wynn tried to loosen her grip. “Probably me running up the stairs. Or the captured German canons they’re hauling down the Champs Élysées.”
“I dreamed we were in Petersburg—I mean, Petrograd—again and the revolutionaries were coming.”
“They aren’t. No one is. The war is over.”
Mama glared at his outrageous claim. “Do not tell me the war is over when those crazy men sit in the Winter Palace as if they own— What do you mean? Which war?”
“The Great War. The one the nations of Europe have been waging for four years.”
“No one is dying?”
Wynn pried her fingers loose from his crimped lapels. “Hopefully not anymore.”
“This is wonderful news! Why did you not tell me right away?” Mama clapped her hands. “We must celebrate. I’ll have that maid fetch us chicken and beef, vegetables, fruit, and pastries, and anything left from the wedding feast yesterday. You really must hire a trained cook. I found part of an eggshell in my soup last night.”
“Food will be rationed for some time to come, but I’ll give her a few more coins to find what she can. We do deserve a celebration.”
“And dresses. We must all have new wardrobes now.” Mama twirled about the room with a dreamy smile on her face. A look that was always expensive.
“This is hardly the time to discuss such matters,” Svetlana said.
Mama stopped twirling and pressed her mouth into a tight line. She never liked being told no when she was excited, and she certainly didn’t enjoy learning from her past debts. Debts Wynn had paid off on her behalf.
“Another time then. I’ll go and set a menu with that maid until a proper cook is hired. Heaven knows she’s in need of a proper mistress. The French aren’t known for hard work like the Russian peasants.” With a sweep of her heavy skirts, pilfered from Wynn’s mother’s Victorian wardrobe, she left.
The room seemed to sigh in relief.
“I’m afraid that along with food rationing, I’ve more bad news,” Wynn said. “I wasn’t able to procure travel tickets. In fact, I wasn’t able to make it to the ticket office at all. The crowds were too great to make it beyond three streets. Took me nearly an hour to walk the way back. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Won’t the ships be needed to take the soldiers home?” Svetlana asked.
“Yes, but it’s going to take weeks, months even for command to start making new orders. Everything will be in chaos for a while. I’ll get you to Scotland. Don’t worry.”