Beneath the Waves by J. Kathleen Cheney

Author:J. Kathleen Cheney [Cheney, J. Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J. Kathleen Cheney

10

12 April, 1907

Lisboa

* * *

The morning dawned bright and fair, no sign yet of the approaching storm. Spotting the light streaming in through the window, Cristiano flung himself out of bed, bathed and dressed quickly, and headed downstairs to the tiled courtyard where the teams had gathered to breakfast.

He surveyed the gathering of competitors and had to swallow his disappointment. Emilia wasn’t there yet. He had hoped she would be as anxious to see him as he was to see her, even though he’d seen her six days a week for years now.

Stomach leaden now, he picked out a pastry and sipped a cup of rich coffee while he waited, wondering what she would say when she saw him. As long as it wasn’t something like, “I made a mistake…”

“Did you hear me, Cristiano?” Oliveira asked sharply.

He’d sat down with his captain and the Swedes, and the conversation must have gone right past him. “Forgive me, what was it?”

“Do you think Miss Atkinson will go ahead with the trial today?” Oliveira asked.

“Absolutely,” Cristiano said, trying to put sentiment behind those words although she still hadn’t appeared. “I’m sure she will.”

He surveyed the clumps of people in the cloisters again. The English team sat at another table, their soon-to-defect half-sereia member among them. Taylor. I must call him Taylor, not Palmeira. The Angolans were there, having decided to stay in the race, and the Americans were gathering at the doors to leave for the docks, evidently. Cristiano had no idea where the Dutch, the Germans, the Barcelonesos, and the Lisboetas were, but that wasn’t important. Today was all about his team and keeping them working together smoothly.

He was rewarded for that virtuous thought when Emilia and Miss Athayde appeared at the door. Emilia had dressed in her suit with wide-legged trousers, and her cheeks flushed charmingly when her eyes met his. Miss Athayde was dressed in her usual careless assortment of men’s garb, her bag slung over one shoulder.

Cristiano went to join Emilia over at the tables under the pretext of securing another cup of coffee. “We were worried that you two had decided to abandon us.”

Emilia didn’t look at him, but sighed and said, “We had to put the curtains back up. Sister Agnes insisted we do it before we left.”

Cristiano cast a glance at her lowered face. He recalled her pulling the curtains back the previous night to wave at him. “Up? Weren’t there already curtains there?”

She waved her hands helplessly. “No. I’d thrown a blanket up to cover the windows once we took the curtains down.”

He abruptly recalled Miss Athayde’s unexpected appearance in a lace pareu the night before and made the connection that the woman had been wearing the curtains. Of course she would do something like that.

“Miss Atkinson,” Olivera said, coming to claim another cup of coffee himself. “Are you well this morning? Unhurt?”

She reassured the captain that she was ready to take on the day’s adventure—as soon as she had something in her stomach.

Oliveira laughed gently.

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