“A double suite?” she turned to ask him.
“Yes miss,” he said, “Would you like your trunk in the bedroom?”
“Wait,” she held up a hand to him and took one step across the threshold from the little sitting room into the next chamber. “This is someone else’s room.” There was already a trunk in the corner.
She looked closer. It was Eden’s trunk. Her heart jumped happily.
She turned again to the porter. “I’m sorry,” she said, “yes, just there, please,” and waved at the foot of the bed.
When she had tipped him and he had gone, the bathroom door opened and Eden herself stepped, towel in hand, into the room.
“Eden!” she smiled. “Eleanor said I would certainly see you soon, but I thought she meant Boston…”
“I came aboard early. I wanted to surprise you. Look what El’s done—this suite…” Eden waved an arm and smiled. “You’d think it was a honeymoon.”
“I wish it was,” Sophia admitted. “I’d rather dance with you after dinner than sit in the corner chatting like a pair of old maids, watching people glance away from us, pretending not to think we are odd.” Sophia frowned.
Eden took a step back and smoothed down her black gabardine skirt. “I know darling. But we’ll dance in Boston, I promise. We’ll go straight to the Brunswick and I’ll wear my tailcoat and you will wear one of your dresses from Paris.”
“Dresses—?” Sophia shook her head a little.
“I ordered them before I left. I knew you had more important things to do than run around to dressmakers. But you can’t be without your trousseau if it’s our honeymoon, Dr. Abington.”
And Eden pulled Sophia to her and kissed her.