A laugh of sheer joy burst out of me, carrying the last of my breath away. I kicked up and popped through the surface, still laughing.

Charlotte stood on the steps of the bathing house, her mouth agape. “Bravo, Miss Coates!”

“You frightened me!” Lucy said, from the step behind her.

“Sorry.” I swam to Maude and treaded water. It was shallow enough to stand, but I could stand anytime. What I couldn’t do anytime was feel weightless.

Maude clucked her tongue, suspicion in narrowed eyes. “You’re a fine swimmer, miss.”

“Thank you.” I leaned back in the water and stared at the sky. “I used to swim as a girl in Antigua. How I’ve missed it! It almost feels as though I’m there, in the brilliant blue sea, my toes grazing the soft white sand. And the waves…There’s no better dance partner in this world than Neptune.”

With people like Maude, a dose of truth was usually enough to mask the taste of the lies. Peering at her, I could see it’d worked.

Lucy’s face had softened, too. “Of course you miss it.”

Charlotte took Maude’s hand and hurried into the water. “Teach me. Teach me to do what you just did.”

I laughed. “Happy to. Lucy, are you coming in?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She came down a step and sat where the water met her shins. “I shall be very happy right here, though. Look at this front-row seat I have to cheer you both on.”

That was just what she did as Charlotte and I splashed and frolicked in the water. Soon Maude grew tired of our antics and waded back to shore. Not long after, Charlotte grew cold and went up to join Lucy. I floated and watched the clouds scud across the sky as I listened to them talking.

“Liesje has all three days planned, morning till night,” Charlotte said, wringing the water from her chestnut hair. “It will be the wedding of the year, you’ll see. Liesje never does anything by halves.”

Our friend’s upcoming marriage was all we talked about lately, which was saying something. We weren’t easily impressed. New York was the main garrison for the British, and we were used to great migrations of military forces. British regulars. Hessians—German mercenaries hired by King George to fight in the war. Loyalist militiamen. Camp followers. They were all constantly sweeping into the city in supply caravans or naval convoys, then sweeping out again to win or lose, live or die. But for us, little changed. We went nowhere. Day after day, we dressed in our finest gowns and danced and dined and socialized, moving from one spectacle to the next, even as the war plodded on.