Isadora Dudley Peabody wished people would stop staring at her. She wished, with all of her heart, that the gleaming ballroom floor would open up and swallow her. It wouldn’t surprise anyone if the event occurred. Disappearing in the middle of a crowded room was bold indeed, and Isadora Peabody had lately earned a reputation for boldness.Being bold, defiant even, was the only way she could get from one day to the next without shattering into a million pieces. After that rainy morning on the wharf, she had closed herself into a cocoon, refusing to eat, unwilling to sleep, unable to cry. Those first few days after the loss at sea would remain a blur to her.The authorities had come to question her about the slaves hiding aboard the Swan. She had looked them in the eye and declared that she knew nothing, absolutely nothing, about the fugitives.There was a token search for the missing schooner. The shores were combed for flotsam and—God forbid—bodies. But none were found. Ryan and Journey and his family had disappeared off the face of the earth as if they had never existed.
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