Eros Element by Cecilia Dominic Page A

Iris’s lower back hurt from maintaining her good posture in the rocking train in spite of having taken a break every thirty minutes or so to walk through the car. She envied the men who could stretch out. The maid disappeared after lunch, so Iris never had the chance to question her further away from the men. It was quite possible, Iris conceded, that her investigations might have ended fruitlessly. A secret guard wouldn’t tell her, would she? How far would the perceived sisterhood of women allow her to pry? That the utensils they’d used for lunch hadn’t yielded anything to Iris’s attempts to read the maid through them made her more curious.
    The train slowed and halted at a countryside station. When Iris alighted, the cool breeze and soothing salt smell told her they were near the coast, as expected, but delighted her with happy memories of childhood trips until the fog of grief put a pall over them and the promise of what would never be again.
    Professor Bailey stepped out of the train car and onto the platform behind her. He wrinkled his nose.
    â€œWhat is it?” she asked. “Don’t you like the smell of the salt air?”
    â€œI was just remembering…” He shook his head. “Nothing.”
    She wanted to ask more, but Bledsoe emerged, rubbing his eyes. “The sun’s beastly bright down here, isn’t it?” he grumbled. He pulled a pair of spectacles with tinted lenses from his pocket and put them over his eyes.
    Iris’s corset kept her from the depth of sigh with which she wanted to vent her exasperation. Would the two of them be like this the entire trip?
    The maid emerged with Iris’s and Professor Bailey’s valises, and porters unloaded the rest.
    â€œWe’re early, gentlemen and Miss. Perhaps you’d like to wait in the station for Mister Cobb’s coach?”
    â€œIs it a steamcoach?” Professor Bailey asked. Iris wondered if he was hoping for another Prancer.
    The maid smiled at him and shook her head. “No, Professor, it’s a simple horse-drawn carriage. The roads down here aren’t good enough for the steam vehicles.”
    â€œMay as well wait inside,” he said. “It’s probably cleaner.”
    Bledsoe followed him, leaving Iris standing on the platform with the maid, who had lowered the valises and now stood rubbing her fingers.
    â€œAre you all right?” Iris asked. She was happy to be out of the train car and in the open air, and the platform was shaded by a large tree. Although the air was warm, the breeze from the sea made it comfortable.
    â€œYes, Miss. I don’t know what Professor Bailey has in his valise, but it’s heavy.”
    â€œMind if I try?”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    When Iris stripped off her right glove, the maid’s brows drew together, but she didn’t say anything. Iris grabbed the handle of Bailey’s valise and attempted to lift it while trying to read it. She got a sense of the professor’s rush that morning, his irritation and resignation. Of course those were the dominant emotions, and she skimmed the surface for the maid’s thoughts and feelings. There she found a curiosity to mirror her own and a sense of secrets hidden away. Iris lowered the valise.
    â€œIt certainly is heavy,” she agreed in a light tone. “And they say women over pack for journeys.”
    â€œYes, Miss,” the maid replied.
    â€œI’m impressed by your strength.”
    The young woman shrugged. “It’s easy to build muscle when you’re having to load and unload Mister Cobb’s train car. Plus keeping everything steady on a train makes me use my middle strength.”
    â€œI see. Will you be accompanying us on our entire journey?”
    It seemed a simple question, but the maid hesitated.
    â€œIs something wrong?” Iris asked.
    Wheels ground over gravel at the front of the station, and the maid looked up with a relieved