“Listen!”
They all turned to Henry.
“I hear something. Listen!”
The air stilled. Beneath the sudden silence, Landen heard something too.
A small sound in the distance.
“Georgie?” Edna’s eyes widened as she scrambled to her feet.
Landen listened hard, glancing around. The sound was coming from the old foundation on the hill. “Up there.” He strode toward the ruins, the sound growing louder. “Here!” he called to the others as they raced to join him. “There’s a root cellar!”
“Georgie!” Edna yelled.
Landen struggled to lift the heavy door of the root cellar, and Henry rushed to assist. Together they finally pried the door open. Light shined into the dark hole below.
The little boy lay huddled in a ball, unmoving. A kitten mewed loudly at his side.
“Georgie!” Edna called, gazing down at her son.
Landen descended the dirt stairs, and the kitten skittered away. Crouching in front of the child, Landen took a deep breath, then gave a tap to his shoulder.
The boy stirred, then rolled to his back. “My ankle hurts.”
Landen blew out a gust of relief. “He’s all right!” he called over his shoulder. He patted Georgie’s knee. “Let’s get you home.”
The kitten mewed at them from the darkened corner.
“Friend of yours?” Landen asked.
Georgie nodded. “I followed him here.”
Landen lifted the boy carefully. “We’re coming up!” He carried the little boy up the stairs and into the sunlight. “His ankle may be broken,” he warned Edna.
“Oh, Georgie!” Edna cupped the boy’s face and smothered him with kisses. “What happened?”
Georgie blinked, breaking free of her grasp long enough to speak. “My pole got stuck on a log, so I was on my way home when I saw a kitten.”
“And you followed it here?”
He nodded. “The cellar door was cracked open, but when I slid under it, it fell closed, and I couldn’t get out.”
“Oh, my poor darling,” Edna cooed.
“Shadow kept me company,” he said, glancing at the kitten now nestled contently in Gia’s arms. “Can I keep him?”
Edna laughed, and the others laughed too.
“Yes, yes of course you can.”
Landen watched the uplifting reunion, feeling drunk with relief.
“Brilliant thinking, Elmsworth!” Tom said with a slap to Landen’s shoulder.
Landen shook his head, overwhelmed with emotion. “It wasn’t my brilliance, I assure you.” He glanced to Gia. Rejoicing with the others, she smiled through tears of joy, the kitten cradled in her arms. The pride that swelled in Landen’s chest knocked the air from his lungs. “The credit belongs to my wife.”
Chapter 14
By the time Gia and Landen boarded the wagon and departed for home, it was well past dark. Gia breathed in the crisp night air as they drove beneath the starry sky, tired but exhilarated by the day’s events.
“The boy was lucky only to have suffered a sprained ankle,” Landen said. “He might have died down there.” He turned to face her. “If it weren’t for you.”
Gia stared into his handsome face, basking in his recognition. “And you,” she said. “Thank you for investigating our idea.”
He cocked a brow. “As I recall, you gave me no choice in it.”
She smiled at his flimsy reprimand. “No, I suppose I didn’t. But Edna was adamant Georgie wouldn’t go into the water by himself. Her trust in the boy convinced me he had to be somewhere else.”
“And you were right.”
Gia was too elated by Georgie’s safety to rue her duplicity. After all, there was a kernel of truth in her explanation of how she’d formed her conclusion to his whereabouts. The boy was in the bosom of his family now, and that’s all that mattered.
“I was overly harsh with you earlier,” Landen said.
His tone carried an apology she didn’t deserve. She’d challenged him in front of his friends—not exactly a wifely behavior a man could condone.
“You were concerned for Edna.”
“Yes. And you were determined to help.” He turned to face her. “And you did.”
The approval in his eyes left her speechless. A rush of warmth flowed through her veins. She started and ended each day in the bliss of his physical passion that, until now, had been all she could ask for. As premature at it might be, his heightened regard had kindled a spark of hope for something more.
“I am simply happy he is safe and back with his family,” she said. The bona fide affection Edna had displayed to her son tugged at Gia’s heart. “He’s one well-loved little boy.” A twinge of envy ached through her. The same shameful envy she felt toward her brothers as she recalled her parents’ favoritism and their treatment of her after the accident.
For two days, Gia had lain upstairs in her bed, recovering and waiting for them to come to her. But they were too bereaved to exert the effort, too depleted to summon gratitude for the daughter whose life had been spared. The daughter who could never replace the beloved sons they had lost.
They’d had to deal with her eventually, but with each vacant glance at her, she’d heard the words they were thinking. It should have been you.
“Not all children grow up feeling loved by their parents.” The words fell from her mouth before she could stop them. She squirmed in her seat, abashed by the slip.
“Are you speaking from experience on the matter?”
Too beset by memories to pretend otherwise, she didn’t bother to try. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to imply my parents were intentionally cruel to me, but indifference can feel that way. Especially to a child. My parents favored my brothers, you see.”
“You have brothers?”
“They died,” she said quickly. “Mark and Miles fell through the ice of a frozen pond.” She lifted her chin against his surprise, against the tears that always welled up inside her when she thought about that horrible day. Strangely, the tears didn’t come.
She hadn’t spoken her brothers’ names aloud in years. And yet, it felt so natural to speak them now. To Landen. “My parents loved those boys to distraction. Unfortunately, I was spared such adoration.” She shrugged, feigning a smile. “Enduring disparity is a common fate for daughters.”
“And for sons from first marriages.”
Gia stared, surprised by his candor. Was he confiding in her? She tilted her head, intrigued by this unpredictable man and the childhood ghosts that had haunted him. I am the product of my father’s first marriage, he’d told Gia on the day they had met.
“My stepmother was a good woman,” he said. “And yet…”
“When she looked at you, there was something missing in her eyes. Something that was present when she looked at your siblings.”
He gauged her intently. “Yes.”
She nodded. “It must have been difficult adjusting to your father’s second marriage. Seeing him with a woman other than your mother.”
His face tightened. “My mother was ill for most of her life. Too ill to care for me as a mother should.”
“And your father?”
“He had his hands full with my mother.” He straightened. “At any rate, the course of events resulted in Alice and Alex. And for this, I am grateful.”
“You never felt envious of them?”
He blinked at her bluntness, shaking his head.
“Did you?” she pressed.
The affronted look on his face faded as he considered her query. “At times.”
Like a soothing balm, his reluctant admission helped lessen the sting of her festering guilt. While she’d loved her brothers with all her heart, she still hated herself for coveting what they’d had.
“I wouldn’t have thought it possible,” she said, fiddling with her hands.
“Wouldn’t have thought
what possible?”
“That you and I might have something in common.”
This garnered a smile. “Nor I,” he said, turning his attention back to driving.
The moonlit road stretched between the tall pines. Fireflies blinked all around them.
“Speaking of siblings, I’ve received a letter from my brother. He’ll be arriving in Misty Lake soon.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Alice must be thrilled. She talks so fondly of him. I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned it.”
“I haven’t told her yet,” Landen said. “My brother is not the most dependable man. I wanted to be sure his plans were set before I told her.”
“Well, I look forward to meeting him.”
“And we’ll all have the pleasure of meeting his latest mistake.”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems my brother is in love. Again.”
She sighed at his disheartening cynicism. “And you assume this is a mistake?”
He frowned, turning to face her. “You don’t know Alex.” He turned back to the road, his tense profile relaxing. “He intends to marry this woman,” he said. “At least he’s promised, this time, to let me meet her before he does anything rash.”
“Such as?”
“Such as he’s prone to do.”
“I see,” she said, suppressing a smile. Landen’s frustration with his brother was obvious, and she could hardly wait now to meet the man who’d managed to rankle him so.
“The young woman’s cousin will be accompanying them.”
“Will they all be staying at the house?”
“Bea is due back from Saratoga this week, so the house will be full. Alex’s guests will stay at the hotel in town.”
“Will they arrive in time for the Westcott Ball?”
“The following weekend.”
“That’s too bad. I’m certain Alice would feel more comfortable among such a large crowd with Alex in attendance. According to Aunt Clara, this ball is the highlight of the season.” A cool breeze brushed Gia’s cheeks, and she tightened the shawl around her shoulders.
The vision commenced with the usual warning. Gia stiffened in dread. Landen sat only inches away, but the deafening buzz in her head disregarded the unfortunate timing. Her pulse quickened. Helpless to stop the inevitable, she closed her eyes. Darkness ascended like a stage curtain introducing a scene.
Beneath a crystal chandelier, Alice danced, whirling through a crowded ballroom in the arms of a man. The pink gown she wore matched the ribbons flowing from her hair and the pretty blush in her cheeks. Gia’s spirit soared on the melody of the orchestra and the sight of Alice’s beaming smile. Then, just as suddenly as the vision had appeared, it was gone.
Gia slumped back in her seat. Recuperating in a warm glow of elation, she smiled. She’d become so accustomed to the ominous visions, she’d almost forgotten the joyful promise in the good ones. Strangely, this happy vision had come from out of nowhere. She’d held nothing in her hands to inspire—and then she remembered she’d donned Alice’s wrap.
“Gia? Did you hear me?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you cold?” Landen asked.
Before she could respond, he pulled on the reins and the wagon rolled to a halt. He reached beneath the seat and produced a blanket. “Here.” He draped the blanket around her, ensconcing her inside the soft wool.
Nestling into the blanket, she gazed into his face, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She swallowed, looking forward to the warmth of their bed and all the wonderful things that awaited her there.
He closed the blanket beneath her chin, and she shivered again, but not from the chill. Her breath hitched as he touched his thumb to her jaw, caressing the corner of her mouth. The rapt yearning in his eyes made her insides flitter as he traced a light path across her bottom lip. She trembled, felt her tongue brush his finger as he dragged it so slowly, so exquisitely over her lip.
He drew the blanket gently toward him, then kissed her. Right there in the wagon. In the moonlight. In the middle of the road.
It was heaven.
She sank against his mouth, the familiar taste and smell of him, and a spark fanned to flames in her belly. The fiery yearning blazed between them as always, and yet, something was different. Perhaps her perception had been skewed by the emotional day and their prior exchange, but there was something more than lust behind the press of his lips.
Or perhaps the feeling was more hopeful than true. Either way, they shared childhood demons, and this mutual part of their pasts made her feel closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting more. Deepening the kiss, he moaned, that sinfully delightful sound that curled her toes, as he melded his tongue against hers.
He drew away, breaking the kiss much too soon. Disappointment tempered the race of her heart.
“We should be going. I want to get home.” He readjusted the blanket around her shoulders. “And into bed.”
She smiled at his lusty words. “That makes two things we have in common.”
He laughed, turning back to the reins.
Feeling daring, she scooted toward him, then rested her head against his firm shoulder. Half expecting he might shrug her away, she savored the spicy scent of him for as long as she could. To her relief, he remained as he was, and she smiled contently as they rode toward home.
* * * *
The sound of Gia’s distress jolted Landen from sleep. He shot upright, the scene beside him rousing him fully awake. Gia writhed in her sleep, limbs flailing in the midst of a dream. He poked her shoulder. “Wake up.”
To his surprise, his touch made her more frantic. She let out a shriek that could wake the whole house. Kicking free of the sheets, she gasped, spewing feral sounds more beastlike than human. She clawed at the air.
Grasping her shoulders, he shook her hard. She struggled, shaking her head and gasping some more. His alarm heightened to fear. He’d never seen anyone in such a state while asleep. The memory of his mother’s violent fits hit full force. “Gia!”
She lashed at him, and he winced as her nails raked his neck. His heart thundered. Dodging the onslaught, he shook her harder. “Wake up!”
Her eyes flashed open.
“Wake up!”
Terror filled her wide stare. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Disorientated, she blinked several times, her gaze darting around.
“Calm yourself. It was a dream.”
She shook her head as though she didn’t believe him.
“A dream,” he said firmly.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice quaked. “I-I…”
“Shh.” He gathered her damp body into his arms. She clung to him, trembling against his shoulder. “Shh.” He petted her disheveled hair, the citrus scent of her calming his own racing heart.
Easing from her grip, he endeavored to rise. “I’ll get you some brandy.”
“No!”
He flinched at the vehemence of her outburst.
“I don’t want a drink.”
He nodded, settling back on the bed. “Do you want to tell me about the dream?”
“I… It was awful.”
“So I gather.” His attempt at humor went unnoticed as she seemed miles away.
“I was drowning.”
He nodded in understanding. “You’d been talking about your brothers today. It’s only natural—”
“I was with them when they drowned.”
He blinked, uncertain he’d heard her correctly. Absorbing her words, he stared, dumbstruck by the horror of what she’d witnessed. No wonder she’d had a nightmare. He thought of Alice and Alex and could barely draw breath through the vise of pain that gripped him at the mere thought of losing them.
The same pain Gia lived with each day.
In a pitiful attempt to console her, he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.
She clasped his fingers, and the slight ges
ture gave him hope that he’d helped in some way. She’d been through so much, and he so wanted to help. But just as he’d thought her ordeal couldn’t have been worse, she stunned him again.
“I fell through the ice too.”
His sharp intake of air nearly choked him. His mind spun in disbelief—in the images he could not force from his head. Gia plunging into the freezing-cold water. Gia flailing for her life. He swallowed, feeling sick to his stomach. And angry as hell at the cruel unfairness of it all.
The despair on her lovely face tore his insides to shreds. He gazed at her, lost for words but desperate for something to say. “Christ, Gia,” he uttered lamely.
She lowered her head, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
Unable to bear the sight of her misery for one moment more, he pulled her into his arms once again. She had no one—no parents or siblings—only him. Cradling her in his tight embrace, he vowed to himself to protect her with his life from this moment on.
“It’s all right,” he cooed in her ear. “You’re all right.”
She shook her head against his chest. The anguish in her muffled words sent a chill down his spine.
“I will never be right.”
Chapter 15
The Westcott Ball was a grand affair, crowded with more people than Gia had encountered in one place in years. She stepped inside the beautiful ballroom and into her memories of Boston and all the familiar sights and sounds of a lifetime ago.
The sound of music and exuberant conversation wafted through the splendid room beneath sparkling chandeliers. Gia smiled through a flood of introductions and requests for dances. By the time Landen led them to the chairs lined up against the wall, her dance card was fairly filled.
Settling into her seat between Clara and Alice, Gia watched as Landen departed to join a group of men who’d invited him for cigars out on the patio. The urge to keep him in sight was so strong she could barely resist abandoning her seat—and Alice—to follow him. There were so many people in attendance, and the person who wanted to hurt Landen might very well be among them.
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