The Lady Who Saw Too Much

by Thomasine Rappold

  “Well, she will dance tonight,” Gia said.

  “Pushing her will not work. You’ve told me as much.”

  “I will not have to push her. She will dance of her own accord. Because she wants to.” To cover her overconfidence she added, “There are so many young men here; one of them is bound to ask her. You’ll see.”

  “Care to wager on it?”

  She gaped. “You’re proposing a wager on Alice? Your very own sister?”

  “If you’re afraid…”

  Armed with her secret advantage, she accepted his dare. Gambling on her visions could prove an interesting pursuit. “Name your bet.”

  He smiled. “If I win… You must draw me a bath.” He leaned to her ear. “And then bathe every inch of me.”

  His warm breath in her ear flowed through her body. A hot spring bubbled in her belly at the memory of their wedding night, when he’d bathed her that way.

  “All right,” she agreed. “And if I win, you must draw your own bath.” Leaning toward him, she rose on her toes. “Before I bathe every inch of you.”

  Her counter offer pleased him immensely. She saw it in the hitch of his breath, in the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Their eyes met and held in a moment of shared desire so strong she ached from the force of it.

  “Good evening, Elmsworth.”

  Landen let go of her hand, nodding to the tall man who’d approached.

  “Good evening, Whithers.”

  The man turned to Gia. “This must be the lovely Mrs. Elmsworth.”

  “Gianna, this is Kenneth Whithers,” Landen said.

  Gia smiled. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “The pleasure is mine, dear lady,” he said with a bow. “May I have this dance?”

  Gia glanced to Landen, who nodded politely as Mr. Whithers led her to the dance floor.

  Mr. Whithers was a competent dancer, and Gia followed his lead. The music floated through the room, but a strange humming tone rose over the tune. She blinked, trying to stave off the buzz in her ears as it grew louder and louder.

  She closed her eyes. A picture flashed in her mind. Mr. Whithers, eyes bulging in fury, red faced and yelling over a desk. At Landen.

  Gia opened her eyes, unsure how long she’d ceased moving. Her legs buckled, and she gasped in dread as she sank. Mr. Whithers caught her, supporting her weight while she fought to steady herself.

  “Are you all right?” Mr. Whithers asked.

  She blinked, feeling faint. She’d never had a vison prompted by touching someone. Random objects, yes, but people, never.

  “Mrs. Elmsworth?”

  She nodded, regaining her footing. “Yes, I am fine.”

  Landen appeared from out of nowhere.

  “Gia?” He reached for her, clearly concerned.

  “I feel a tad warm suddenly,” she said, fanning her face.

  “Let’s get you some fresh air.” Landen took her arm and led her carefully toward the open doors.

  Once outside and away from Mr. Whithers, she felt better. Landen sat her on one of the benches outside the door. She took in the fresh air, trying to calm her racing pulse and frantic thoughts. Kenneth Whithers… “How well do you know him?” she asked.

  “Who? Whithers?” Landen shrugged. “A few weeks. He’s earned a solid reputation in in the city. I’m considering making some investments with him.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t do it.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “There’s something about him I don’t like.”

  Landen’s brows narrowed. “You’ve known him for all of five minutes.”

  “That’s all it took for me to know he’s bad news.”

  He eyed her warily.

  “I am serious. Trust me on this.”

  Landen stiffened, and she saw in his face that she tossed the word trust around far too often for his liking. She rubbed her temples to soothe her nerves.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  “Much better, thank you.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, I am fine.” She smiled. “Let’s go check on Alice.”

  * * * *

  Gia held Landen’s arm, enjoying the crisp scent of him as they reentered the ballroom. She willed herself to stay calm, to file away until later the vision she’d had of Mr. Whithers and Landen until she could process it privately, and not in the middle of the Westcott Ball.

  “I don’t believe it,” Landen said.

  Gia followed his gaze across the room. Alice stood as a young man led her to the dance floor.

  “Who is that fellow?”

  “That’s Mr. Shanley’s son, Ben.”

  “Shanley? The gardener?”

  Gia nodded. “Virginia Westcott pointed him out to me and Alice. She told us Ben designed all the floral arrangements for the ball tonight. He’s quite an artist.”

  “You arranged for this, I suppose?” he asked, tipping his head toward Alice.

  “I arranged nothing. It’s merely nature taking its course.”

  Landen’s frown faded as he watched his sister, looking radiant on the dance floor as her partner twirled her around.

  “I’ve never seen her looking so at ease in public.”

  Gia watched the couple, smiling. “They have a lot in common.

  “Are you feeling well enough for one more dance?” he asked.

  “With you?”

  “It’s the Westcott Ball, and the Westcotts make their own rules,” he said.

  She glanced around, noticing several married couples dancing together.

  “I can keep a closer eye on Alice from the dance floor,” Landen said as he led her into the crush of other dancers.

  Gia sighed at his reason for asking her to dance, yet her heart pounded, as it always did, when he was touching her.

  “Besides, we’re in the country, remember?” He grimaced over her shoulder. “Although you’d never know it from some of the fashions.”

  She stifled a giggle at Mrs. Birch’s tall, feathered headdress.

  “Please promise you’ll never wear such a ridiculous thing in my presence,” he said.

  She laughed, gazing up at him. He looked so handsome. Her heart stilled with longing. And fear. “Promise me you’ll never wear a red scarf.”

  He cocked a brow.

  She tried her best to make light of her odd request. “I detest the color red,” she said, clasping his arm more firmly.

  He led her toward the dance floor. “You needn’t worry. I detest scarves.”

  She smiled, feeling like the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders. While she wasn’t foolish enough to believe he was safe based on his hatred of scarves, could the omission of this one minor detail change everything?

  They stepped onto the crowded floor and into a furnace. She didn’t care. Alice was dancing. And Landen was holding Gia in his arms.

  From the corner of her eye, she spotted Maude watching them. The chill of Maude’s icy eyes had not thawed in the least. The adversarial exchange between Clara and Maude had only heightened Maude’s dislike for Gia, she was certain of it. But it felt nice to have Clara defending her. Nice to have people who cared.

  Dismissing Maude and Mr. Whithers, and all the other negative thoughts that nagged at her mind, Gia focused instead on the moment. The music was lovely. The room was grand. And Landen was a fine dancer. She followed his lead as if she’d danced with him all her life. She glanced up to find him staring down at her.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  She smiled up at him. “I’d think you’d have something to say to me for winning our bet.”

  “Congratulations,” he said. “But in all honesty, given the conditions you presented, I’ve never been so happily resigned to losing a wager.”

  She smiled, pressing her body ever so slightly to his. “Nevertheless, as winner of sai
d bet, I’ll demand prompt and full payment.”

  His dark eyes glimmered beneath the chandelier. She could feel his want for her in his look, in his touch, in the rhythm of his breath. She swallowed her own eager desire. As much as she was enjoying the moment, she could not wait to get home and away from the crowd, away from Kenneth Whithers and Maude Devenshire.

  She longed for the bliss of their room, where nothing else in the world mattered.

  And Landen was safe.

  Chapter 17

  Over the next few days, the household buzzed in anticipation of Alex’s pending arrival. The excitement was contagious, and Gia looked forward to meeting Alex, whom Alice had described as charming and handsome with a heart of pure gold.

  His visit would coincide perfectly with Landen’s birthday and the special family supper she and Alice were planning. After spending the day shopping for birthday gifts in Troy, Gia and Alice enjoyed the leisurely carriage ride home, laughing and chatting like true sisters.

  Alice had confided to Gia how much she’d enjoyed dancing at the Westcott Ball and how much she admired Mr. Shanley, her dancing partner. It warmed Gia’s heart to see the girl expressing interest in something other than her rose bushes.

  “Aunt Clara insists on referring to Ben as a mere gardener, but he’s so much more,” Alice said. “Did I mention he’s designed several of the most beautiful gardens in Misty Lake?”

  Gia nodded, suppressing a smile. “You mentioned it, yes.”

  “You will try and persuade her and Denny to allow Ben to call on me, won’t you, Gia?”

  “I’ll do my best, I promise,” Gia said, patting her hand.

  Despite their misgivings about Ben Shanley, Clara and Landen saw Alice’s rare willingness to spend time with anyone outside the realm of the family as a welcome change that might open the door for other more suitable young men.

  Of course, Gia kept this bit of information to herself. There was no point in disappointing Alice with their mindset on the matter, so long as they granted Ben permission to call upon Alice. Fate would take it from there.

  Fate. The word echoed through the dizzying swirl of confusing thoughts in Gia’s head. Since meeting Mr. Whithers at the Westcott Ball and the vision she’d experienced while dancing with him, Gia now deemed him her sole suspect in wishing Landen harm. She had to keep Landen away from Whithers, and from entering any dealings with him, but how? How could she convince Landen of the man’s nefarious intentions without offering any logical proof?

  Time was running out, and Gia needed to find the site of the vision that had brought her here. The place she feared most…

  “Are there any creeks around Misty Lake?” Gia asked.

  Alice regarded her with an inquisitive look. “There’s a creek in the woods next to the estate,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

  “I thought I might try my hand at painting. A flowing creek would make a pretty subject.”

  “I suppose,” Alice said. “But why not paint a scene of the lake instead?”

  Gia shrugged. “I’d prefer to capture the effect of moving water.” The more lies Gia told, the easier they seemed to come to her. She sighed at the disheartening realization that her mysterious ability had fated her to a lifetime of lies and manipulation. She shook off her shame and the helplessness of what she could not control. Her actions were motivated to help, not harm, but reiterating this fact did little to assuage her guilt.

  She turned toward the window. She’d take a walk in the woods tomorrow morning. Perhaps the site of the vision might provide her with a clue or another vision. Anything that might aid in her quest for answers.

  By the time Gia and Alice arrived back in Misty Lake, it was almost time for supper. The four of them dined at the large table that would be full by this time tomorrow evening when Alex arrived with his guests.

  “Now, let’s see.” Clara ticked off the mental list in her head. “The menu for this week has been set, and Florence readied Alex’s room this morning.” She took a sip of her wine. “Landen you must have the badminton net set up. You know how much your brother enjoys badminton.”

  “You mean how much he enjoys besting Denny at badminton,” Alice said. She turned to Gia. “They are ridiculously competitive.”

  “They are men,” Clara said.

  “Guilty on both charges,” Landen said. “But let it be known, I best him at archery every time.”

  “Let’s hope the boy has time for such sports during this visit,” Clara said. “From his last letter, he seems quite enamored with Miss Richardson. Since he’s arranged rooms for her and her cousin at the Lakeside Hotel, I suspect he plans on spending a good deal of his time there.”

  “I’m certain Alex will spend enough time at the house to please even you, Aunt Clara,” Landen said.

  “To insure it, I shall insist Miss Richardson stay here with us. Since Bea decided to spend a few weeks at Saratoga, the girl can have that room. Alex and her cousin can share Alex’s room.” She shook her head. “A man acting as chaperone.” She tsked. “Obviously the family is not much for convention.” She shook her head some more. “Thank goodness we’re in the country,” she muttered. “At any rate, Miss Richardson shall stay here at the house. We’ll all be together, and Gianna and I can properly chaperone.”

  “Two birds with one stone,” Landen said. “Resourceful, as always.”

  She waved off his teasing. “This wine is delicious, Denny. We must be sure to get more.”

  Landen reached for his wineglass. “Rest assured, the task is at the top of my list.”

  A smile passed between Landen and Alice as he sipped liquid fortitude, but Clara prattled on unoffended. Gia admired Clara’s propensity for indulging her family’s amusement at her expense—for allowing the small quips that bound the siblings together.

  The meal passed in a pleasant evening that left Gia realizing how much she’d come to enjoy being with this family and how much she’d come to care for them all. She actually felt as though she were a part of them now. A feeling swelled inside her, a feeling so foreign, so forgotten, it took her a moment to discern what it was.

  Happiness.

  * * * *

  Later that night, Gia nestled into the warmth of her favorite place in the world. In the crook of Landen’s arm, she felt safe and protected. But more importantly, when he was with her, she knew he was safe. Deliriously spent by their lovemaking, she let her fingers play lazily over his chest, through the fine curls of hair, the taut plane of muscle and ribs.

  “I have something for you,” she uttered.

  His left brow rose in that wickedly seductive expression that made her quiver inside. “While I’m uncertain I’m up to it again so soon, I will do my utmost to rise to the occasion.”

  She slapped at his chest, and he laughed, cowering from her playful assault. “I mean I have a birthday gift for you.” She leaned to the bedside table, then opened the drawer. “Here.”

  His smile faded as he sat up to take the small box she held out to him. “This was unnecessary.” The surprising modesty in his voice was endearing.

  “Of course it was necessary. I couldn’t let your birthday pass unnoticed.”

  “Unnoticed? As though you and Alice haven’t been planning a celebration all along.”

  She gaped at him. “Alice will be so disappointed that you know about the supper. You must pretend to be surprised.”

  “I pretend to be surprised every year. I can manage to do the same this year.” He tilted his head. “It’s just us, correct? Just family?”

  She nodded, thrilled he’d included her in his definition of family. “Yes, just the family. And Alex’s guests, of course. Alice mentioned you wouldn’t want us to fuss, so we’ve planned a simple evening.” She waggled her finger. “I will not, however, divulge what Florence is preparing for your birthday supper.”

  “Will there be cake?”

  “Of course there will be cake. A rich cake with
creamy—” She narrowed her eyes at the grin on his face. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Your mouth is watering from merely speaking of cake.”

  She smiled too. “Obviously, you’ve noticed I possess a slight sweet tooth.”

  “Slight?”

  “All right,” she admitted as she fluffed her pillow. “An enormous sweet tooth.” She sprawled on her side to watch him open her gift.

  With a grin, he reached toward her bare leg. “When something is good, it’s hard to resist.” He touched the box to her knee, slowly trailing it up to her thigh.

  She inhaled at the contact, the simmering look in his eyes as his gaze followed the box to her hip. She felt her nipples harden, the tingling heat between her thighs.

  He leaned toward her, but she halted him with a palm to the chest. “Stop it now and open the box.”

  He drew back his hand in surrender. “All right, you win.” He opened the box, then lifted the silver chain from the velvet lining.

  “It’s a medal,” she said, springing upright. “Saint Christopher.”

  Cradling the medal in his hand, he inspected the engraved image closely. “Saint Christopher… The saint of safe travels.”

  “Wearing it will protect you.” She tilted her head. “You will wear it, won’t you?”

  He nodded, his humble gaze soft and warm. “Yes.” He slipped the chain over his head. It shimmered in the lamplight against his broad chest, and she smiled, liking the effect immensely.

  “Thank you.” He regarded her with a tender affection she hadn’t thought possible. Her heart leapt in her chest.

  “You’re welcome.”

  His gaze slid down the length of her body, and his tone deepened. “Now come here. I have something for you.”

  * * * *

  Gia glanced to the clock on the mantel. “It’s almost midnight,” she said. “Almost your birthday.”

  “Actually, I wasn’t born until two in the morning.”

  Her thoughts wandered to her own birthday—the last one she or anyone else had ever acknowledged. She’d lost her brothers, and nearly died herself, on the very day—the very hour—of her birth. The eerie coincidence had always plagued her. From that horrible day forward, her birthday had become a day reserved for grieving the death of her brothers, nothing more.