Sonya shuddered lightly. A faint stain colored her high cheekbones, making her blue eyes bright. “Since…since William’s accident, I’ve found it more agreeable to remain in the background.”

“Are you afraid?” Ginny stared at her in surprise. “It was all a mistake, you know. The assassins shot the wrong man. They meant to shoot Don Ignacio. All that unrest in Cuba should have warned him, for he is a man to earn many enemies.”

“Perhaps.” Her lips were tight, a look of strain marking her face. “It just seems that…that no one is safe anymore, doesn’t it? I mean…during the war here, it was expected, but still, because I was married to William, a Virginian and a United States senator, no one dared accost me. And then it just seemed that there were not as many criminals running loose, or men who don’t mind risking all for so little, as they do now. I—I don’t know anymore, where, if, there’s a place that’s safe.”

She looked up, a beseeching gleam in her eyes, as if she were a child needing comfort and assurance.

At a loss, Ginny didn’t answer for a moment, unsure how to soothe her stepmother, or even if she wanted to. Idly pleating a fold of her cream-colored polonaise between her fingers, she inhaled deeply to stem the old resentment.

Years of wariness were too deeply ingrained to confide in Sonya now, or to allow herself to be drawn into a more intimate discussion despite the first impulse to comfort Sonya’s fears. Her reply was mundane, her assurance uncertain.

“My father would never allow anything to happen to you. You’ll feel much better in the morning, I’m sure.”

Sonya reached for her, fingers curled into claws that gripped Ginny’s arm with surprising strength, digging into green silk as she whispered fiercely, “Ginny, you must not go to Mexico! It’s…it’s too dangerous for you.”

“What…what are you talking about? I know there is civil unrest now, but not like before, when the French were there and Juarez was struggling for power.”

Sonya’s gaze darted around the room, past the low brick archway that shielded them from prying eyes before returning to Ginny, her tone rife with urgency. “There are always men who are greedy and ruthless. Think of your past, of everything that happened to you then. It might all happen again.”

“Sonya, I do believe you’re being far too pessimistic about this. Steve has assured me that the situation is not as grim as it was then. Yes, of course there will be some tense moments, but nothing like the Juarista revolution.”

Recoiling slightly, fine white lines formed around her lips as Sonya frowned. “You won’t listen to me.”

“Really, I don’t think it’s as bad as all that, but I will be careful, I promise.”