The Lady Who Saw Too Much Page 4

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “After what she’s disclosed to me, her leaving town is no longer an option.”

  Landen stared in confusion. He turned to Gia for help, but she averted her eyes. She stared down at her knees, her face unreadable.

  “She’s not leaving?”

  Aunt Clara shook her head. “No, Denny, she’s not leaving.” Her smug tone sent a chill down his spine. “You and Miss York will be married instead.”

  * * * *

  “She is lying!” Landen shot to his feet.

  “Perhaps,” Aunt Clara said matter-of-factly. “Unfortunately, you can’t prove it. And given the witnesses…” She tossed up her hands. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. Word will spread through town and everyone will believe the worst.” She lifted her chin. “You have no choice.”

  The four words enclosed him, squeezing the air from his lungs. The one thing he swore he’d never do was fall victim to a woman’s manipulations again. And here he was. The victim.

  Apparently, he’d learned little from the mistakes of his past. And nothing of scheming women. “And if I refuse?” he asked for the hell of it.

  Aunt Clara shook her head. “You won’t. You’re an honorable man, Denny. You’ll do nothing to discredit yourself. Nothing that might cause your business dealings to suffer.” She shrugged. “You know it. I know it.” She tossed a nod toward Gia. “And I’ve a hunch that Miss York knows it too.”

  Gia stared at the floor. He strode toward her, glaring down in disgust. “You conniving little—”

  “Enough!” Aunt Clara waggled a finger. “That’s no way to speak to your future bride.”

  His anger rose at his aunt’s obvious elation. Her desire for him to settle down and have children was no secret. She’d been hounding him for years. “You wished for this,” he said. “The two of you may as well be in cahoots.”

  “Don’t blame me for your self-inflicted plight,” Clara said. “You’re the one who was caught red-handed and half-naked with the companion you hired for your sister.”

  If possible, hearing this truth made him angrier.

  Clara tilted her gray head, her tone softening beneath her underlying pity. Despite all her berating, he knew that she loved him. “Accept it, my boy. You’ve been outsmarted.”

  He turned to Gia, but she still refused to look up.

  His heart thundered as he struggled like an animal caught in a trap. His thoughts spun in futile circles for some way out. Drained and sickened, he exhaled in surrender as the icy calm of defeat settled over him. “So it seems.”

  Gia glanced up, finally meeting his eyes.

  “You’re a clever girl, Miss York,” he said, as evenly as he could manage. “And I intend to reward your cleverness by being the husband you deserve.”

  Chapter 5

  Gia stepped from her room the next morning, dreading having to go downstairs. With every descending step, she felt the hellfire of Landen’s fury waiting to incinerate her alive. Prompted by the remote possibility he might be absent at breakfast, she quickened her pace. Clara’s friend, Beatrice, was still snoring loudly in the room across from Gia’s. With any luck, Landen was a late sleeper as well.

  Gia entered the dining room to find Alice seated at the long table with Clara. “Good morning.” Gia took a seat across from Alice, exhaling in relief at Landen’s absence, however temporary.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Clara’s cordiality seemed genuine, and Gia swallowed her shame. She’d lied to the woman, setting in motion a turn of events she hadn’t expected. Gia had been so desperate to extend her stay, she hadn’t fully considered that Clara might actually insist Landen marry Gia. Or perhaps, deep down, she had, and didn’t want to admit to this possibility. Either way, Gia would now have to live with what she’d done.

  “Landen has left for business in Troy,” Clara said. “But not to worry. A few days in the city will give him some time to adjust to your sudden engagement.”

  And the distance to keep him from wringing my neck. Gia’s heart plummeted at the memory of the scene in the parlor yesterday. His hatred of her was obvious. And justified. Even so, she hadn’t been prepared for how the disdain in his eyes would affect her.

  Gia couldn’t deny she was drawn to him. The moment she’d set eyes on him, something inside her had stirred. Some primal part of herself that she’d never known existed had been shaken to life. This strong attraction was ridiculous—she barely knew him—and yet in the wake of what she’d done, she felt a great sense of loss. And guilt.

  Her purpose for staying here was to help him, not hurt him. How strange. She was marrying him to save his life, and yet she was ruining the life he had. Did everything connect? Like a tumbling line of strategically placed dominoes, did each action affect the next? It was all so confusing.

  Landen would marry her, but he’d never forgive her. He’d made that clear with his threat to be the husband she deserved. His opinion of her had been shattered beyond repair. As was Clara’s, no doubt. And Alice’s.

  “In the meanwhile, Gianna, you and I have much to discuss,” Clara said.

  Alice finally glanced up at Gia, and she knew at once the girl was privy to what had happened. The wounded look in Alice’s eyes conveyed what she was thinking. That Gia had come under the guise of helping her, only to help herself to her brother.

  Gia had betrayed Alice just as the girl was beginning to trust her. If possible, Gia sunk lower. She had to say something. “Alice, I—”

  “Excuse me, please.” Alice tossed down her napkin and shot to her feet. “I must tend to my roses,” she said as she strode stiffly from the room.

  Clara continued as if nothing were amiss. “Now, about your family. They must be notified at once.”

  Gia shook her head. “I have no family.”

  Clara narrowed her eyes. “No one?”

  “They’re all deceased,” Gia said. The lie sounded smoother than she had expected. Perhaps it was practice, or the raw truth in it. After all her parents had done, they were, in fact, dead to her. The threats of having her committed, the forced tonics, the way they looked at her, were the nails in their coffins.

  Their apathy toward Gia before the accident had always pained her. They’d favored her brothers and never pretended otherwise. Three of their children had fallen through the ice, but the one they’d loved least had been the only one to survive.

  Clara studied Gia closely. “I see.” The small acknowledgement seemed as close to a condolence as the woman had to offer. “Well, you have a new family now,” she said. “I married into it, and soon you shall too. Albeit under quite different circumstances,” she muttered, as though unable to help herself. “Since the invitations for the garden party you and Alice planned have already gone out, we will announce the engagement then.”

  The woman had managed to spin a proper twist on what might have been the scandal of the season. Gia couldn’t help being impressed.

  “The wedding will take place one week from Sunday,” Clara said.

  Gia’s heart lurched. “So soon?”

  “Not soon enough, if you ask me, but more talk with ensue if my nephew were to marry before announcing an official engagement.” She released a quick sigh. “But at least it’s not May.”

  Gia hadn’t considered a woman like Clara to be so superstitious. Marry in May and rue the day. The old adage seemed more than appropriate to this particular occasion.

  “The fourteenth of July will suffice.” Clara fixed a stern gaze on Gia. “The two of you fell madly in love during the weeks since you arrived. That’s to be the story of the marriage.”

  Gia said nothing. What could she say?

  “The wedding ceremony will take place here, at the house, followed by a simple cake reception.”

  Clara rambled on about details of the wedding, but Gia focused instead on more important issues. She had to stop Landen’s death from happening. Puttin
g this feat to the forefront, she pushed thoughts of marriage from her head and tried to concentrate on the details of the vision and what might lead to it happening.

  Unlike anything she’d ever felt during previous visions, the pervading sense of malice that had gripped her at the sight of Landen’s lifeless body in the water led her to suspect foul play. Was there someone out there who’d want to hurt him? He hadn’t amassed a fortune by being reckless or stupid, but perhaps he’d entered into some business dealings that had gone bad. This seemed the most likely direction in which to follow.

  There were so many lakes in the area. Gia was no expert in the field of limnology, but she knew enough to deduce there’d be several creeks flowing in and out of them. Gia would scope out all of them in search of the scene of her vision. She would walk until her feet bled, but she would find the creek in which she’d seen Landen floating. What she’d gain from locating the site of the vision, she didn’t know, but she had nothing else to go on. Perhaps her presence at the site might prompt another vision that would lead to a clue.

  “You haven’t touched your breakfast,” Clara said, snapping Gia back to attention.

  “I’m not very hungry.” That was an understatement. The physical effect of her predicament suddenly became such that the mere smell wafting up from her plate made her queasy.

  “Eat,” Clara said. “You must keep up your strength, Gianna. There is much to be done over the next week, and you’ll need it.”

  The reminder did little to help. But Clara was right. With a nod, Gia picked up her fork. She forced down a mouthful of poached eggs, and her stomach roiled in protest. Fearing she might retch, she reached for her coffee cup and took a deep sip. The warm brew did little to settle her tremulous nerves. She felt Clara watching but paid her no heed. Gia had all she could handle at present; she couldn’t worry about Clara’s scrutiny. Gia pushed away the breakfast plate as the thought of eating another bite made her feel ill.

  Almost as ill as marrying a man who despised her.

  * * * *

  Upon entering the house, Landen had been summoned to the parlor where Aunt Clara had been waiting for his return from Troy. He was hungry and tired as hell. The last thing he felt up to was a conversation with Aunt Clara.

  “You have to speak with Gianna, Denny,” Aunt Clara said. “The girl isn’t well.”

  He shrugged off his coat, then sank to a chair. “That makes two of us,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

  She frowned. “I am serious. She’s barely eaten in three days. And from the look of her, she hasn’t slept either. She puts up a brave front, but I can see plainly her fear.”

  “And what am I to do about that?”

  “She is frightened of you.”

  Good, he thought as he stretched out his legs. The little liar had planned this from the start. He hadn’t set eyes on her since that day in the parlor when she’d sprung her trap, and he’d had three long days to think. To ponder how he’d make her pay for what she’d done to him.

  He would be a terrible husband to her. He’d carouse and cheat. Perhaps he’d start back up with Charlotte. That is, if she’d have him. Charlotte had been upset when he’d broken it off with her, but she’d be furious when she found out Landen was marrying another woman.

  Although he’d made clear to Charlotte at the start of their affair he had no inclination to marry, he knew she’d hoped to change his mind. Her mother’s incessant pushing had only made matters worse. Charlotte began appearing wherever Landen happened to be, even going so far as to take a suite at the Misty Lake Hotel for the summer, hoping he might propose. Instead, he’d broken it off. And now he was marrying Gia.

  He cursed under his breath. For years, he’d lived his life as he’d dictated, as master of his own fate, only to be led to the altar by a scheming chit he barely knew. Oh, yes, he would make Gia suffer. He would avoid her by day, and by night he would make love to her until she begged for mercy.

  The pleasure he derived from the thought of this particular form of retaliation made him angry. Despite his loathing for Gia, he remained physically attracted to her. His weakness at harboring any feelings other than hatred toward his future bride disgusted him almost as much as what she’d done.

  “She’s an orphan, you know,” Clara said.

  “If that information is intended to soften my opinion of her—”

  “For goodness’ sake, Denny, stop acting the martyr.”

  “Your immense enjoyment of the situation makes that difficult,” he ground out.

  With a huff, she waved off his observation and pressed on. “She’s your fiancée now. You must reassure her that you’ve accepted the marriage and will treat her kindly.”

  “I’ll do no such thing.”

  Clara drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Then we may be forced to postpone the wedding until she adjusts to the situation. In the meantime, we’ll announce the engagement and hope that’s sufficient to quiet the talk.”

  Landen considered this for all of a moment. He refused to accommodate Gia in any way. If he had to adjust to the situation, so should she. “No. We marry as planned.”

  Clara nodded triumphantly. “So, you’ll speak with her, then?”

  He frowned. It was bad enough Gia had tricked him into marriage, now he had to make her feel better about it? Ridiculous. “She’ll come around without my assistance.”

  “No, Landen. She will not.” Aunt Clara leaned forward. “We are announcing the engagement at the reception on Saturday. How will it reflect on you if your future bride appeared looking despondent? Have you given thought to that?”

  He hadn’t.

  His aunt’s targeted strike hit with expert precision. His mother’s erratic moods and chronic bouts of melancholia had affected them all. His chest clenched at the painful reminder of his childhood with a mother who had turned him and his father inside out.

  “Come, now, you are a charming man,” Aunt Clara said. “Use that charm on your fiancée. If not for her sake, then for your own.” She patted his knee. “For your family.”

  * * * *

  Gia stared out the window at the carriage parked in the drive. Landen was home. After a three-day reprieve from having to face him, her heart now flapped more wildly than a bird sprung from a cage.

  She wrung her hands as she paced in circles, then stopped at the mirror. Tired eyes stared back at her. She sighed, feeling as wretched as she looked. She’d allow herself this final evening to ferment in her predicament, but come morning, she’d pull herself from the mire of self-pity and get on with things.

  Had she even the slightest doubt in her prophetic ability, her first order of business tomorrow would be fleeing this place and the man she dreaded facing again. It wasn’t too late. She could still run, still save herself from this marriage. But then Landen would die. As Prudence had died when Gia had taken the coward’s way out.

  Besides, she had nowhere else to go. As Clara had said, this was Gia’s family now. And unbeknownst to them all, they needed Gia to keep it intact.

  The distinctive sound of Landen’s heavy footsteps in the hall gave her a start. It was well past ten o’clock—he wouldn’t possibly consider disturbing her at this hour.

  The solid rap on the door proved otherwise. She sprang to her feet. Primping at her hair in a desperate attempt to better her disheveled appearance, she walked to the door.

  “You’re back,” she uttered as he strode past her.

  He turned to face her, his gaze trailing up and down the length of her.

  She shifted her weight to shore her weak knees against his inspection and her blasted attraction to the rude man.

  “My aunt was not exaggerating.” His lips gnarled with disgust. “You look like a dishrag.”

  Gia lowered her eyes.

  “I wish to speak with you,” he said.

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “My aunt is concerned about you.”
>
  “There’s no need for concern.”

  “My sentiment exactly,” he said. “But just in case you’re having second thoughts about the scheme you’ve hatched, let me remind you that there’s more than your reputation at stake.”

  “I don’t care about my reputation.”

  “I care about mine,” he said. “And Alice’s. Not that you give a damn about the girl you were hired to help.”

  “I do care,” she shot back. “I care immensely.”

  Tilting his head, he eyed her skeptically. “Your acting skills are remarkable,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I might almost believe you.” His tone sharpened. “But unlike my aunt, I don’t trust a word that comes from your scheming lips.”

  “I never intended for this to happen.”

  His jaw tensed at her pathetic defense. His narrowed eyes were devoid of emotion, empty and dark as a bottomless pit. She stared into her future and the endless eternity that would be their marriage until he spoke again. “Be that as it may, you’ve proved yourself to be a convincing liar, and now we will both pay the price for your deceit.”

  “I wished only to stay for the summer.”

  “Why?” he demanded.

  For a moment, she was tempted to tell him the truth and be done with him. Life on the streets seemed a better alternative to life with this man. But the desperation in his plea and the trace of vulnerability behind the anger on his handsome face fortified her determination to protect him and finish what she’d started.

  Gia had vowed when she came here to do what she must—to go where her visions led her—she’d not retreat now. She’d survived thirty paralyzing minutes in the freezing water beneath the ice; she could survive an unhappy marriage to Landen Elmsworth and whatever retribution he’d inflict upon her for what she’d done. She didn’t have to like him to save him, but she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t try.

  He frowned at her silence, glancing toward the untouched supper tray on the small table by the window. “Have something to eat. Starving yourself will gain you no sympathy.”