“Tell us about yourself, sir,” Aunt Rowena said. “Are you a tradesman? A businessman?”
“International business,” Nicholas said.
“Ah, your many languages surely help with your business dealings.”
“You are correct, madam. Zeh study of languages has aided me greatly.”
Aunt Rowena dealt a second hand of thirteen cards each. “You travel a lot, I assume,” she continued. “And what of your family? Do they miss you as you travel?”
“Alas, I have no family,” Nicholas said, picking up his cards and deftly organizing them.
Aunt Rowena stilled. “Goodness. I am sorry for that.”
“I have learned to find gratitude in other things.” His gaze shifted to Gigi. “I may be alone, but I have found my own peace.”
Gigi’s throat tightened. His words were somber, and she was sure that no one could ever truly see the depths of his dark eyes.
“Yet, I would still caution anyone to choose a different path zhan I did.” Nicholas set down a trump card to win the round.
Which path was he speaking about? Gigi wondered.
“Hold your loved ones close. Always.” He began the next round with a jack of hearts, and the game progressed.
Gigi glanced at Professor Haskins, and their gazes held for a moment. What had he thought of Nicholas’s words? Was he now remembering his own regrets?
“I have one great love in my life,” Aunt Rowena said.
Gigi wondered if her aunt was going to name her husband. There had been no children from their union, and he’d left her a wealthy widow. Soon after, she’d reverted to her maiden name, though, a story Gigi had always wondered about.
“Charles and I talked of getting engaged before the Crimean War, then marrying after,” Aunt Rowena said.
Charles? Aunt Rowena’s late husband was named William . . .
“He never made it home.” Aunt Rowena’s voice trembled, but she continued on without any tears. “I don’t know if I put Charles on a pedestal or what, but no one else ever measured up to him. I did marry eventually, and I hoped that my compatibility with William would turn into love, but William didn’t live long enough for me to find out. It is why I reverted back to my maiden name.”
“Ah, I am sorry for zeh loss of both Charles and William,” Nicholas said.
Aunt Rowena nodded, then took a steadying breath. “One more game?”
Everyone nodded, and she dealt the cards.
By the time the game came to a close, Gigi could no longer hide the yawns that seemed determined to come. Surely her aunt was exhausted too.
“Ve vill escort you back to your rooms, dear ladies,” Nicholas said as Aunt Rowena rose from the table. Gigi supported her until Nicholas reached her other side. With a flourish, he offered his arm to Aunt Rowena, then led her slowly out of the dining car.
Gigi took a moment to pack up the cards. When she finished, Professor Haskins was waiting for her.
As their gazes connected, he offered a soft smile. “Are you all right?”
“Me?”
“You seemed upset when Nicholas spoke back there.”
Looking into the professor’s hazel eyes, she wondered what he’d felt during the story. “I felt sorry for Nicholas, I guess,” she said. “I wish he could find the happiness he seeks. I suppose his perspective now is much clearer than it was when he was younger.”
“Something to think about, it seems.” Professor Haskins extended his arm, and Gigi took it.
He walked slowly, and Gigi was grateful for it. She felt reluctant to be parted from him tonight. She’d grown comfortable around him, had become used to him, and looked forward to his every appearance, their every conversation. It was like he was a beloved brother . . . no, not a brother. A cousin? That was it. A male cousin she was very close to. No . . .
As they entered the corridor, the conductor at the other end of the train car turned his attention to the nearby window.
“There’s that worry line again,” Professor Haskins said, slowing.
“I have a worry line?”
With his other hand, he tapped the space between her brows. His touch was so light it could have been the wing of a butterfly. “Right there. Although it’s so faint I doubt many would notice it.”
He’d only touched her briefly, but she could still feel the warm brush of his finger.
“I didn’t know I had a worry line,” she said. “Perhaps I should frown more in the mirror, and then I could spot all the nefarious lines on my face.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I wish you didn’t have to worry or frown at all,” he said, leading her now along the corridor. Casually, as if he hadn’t just sent her heart racing.
“I blame it on Nicholas,” Gigi said. “I wish I could bring something joyful to the man’s life. Too bad Aunt Rowena is so much older than he.”
The professor drew her to a stop at this, and typical of narrow corridors on a train, there was not much breathing space between them. Her arm was still linked in his, so when he turned slightly to look down at her, they were even closer.
“You are in earnest?” he asked. “Now who is the matchmaker, Miss Ballard?”
“I’m only teasing,” she said, letting her smile escape. “I think Aunt Rowena would mow over any man brave enough to marry her.”
The professor’s chuckle was soft. “Perhaps you’re right, but your aunt is not all that old.”
“You’re sweet,” Gigi said. “She is sixty-five, and I’m guessing that Nicholas is but fifty.”
“Sixty-five? I never would have guessed,” Professor Haskins said, his eyes dancing. “The Ballard women must age well.”
“Ah, be careful what you say,” Gigi said. “Now I’m going to make you guess my age.”
Professor Haskins didn’t hesitate. “Twenty-one.”
“No. I hope you’re kidding.” Gigi wanted to laugh, but she didn’t want the others in their compartments to overhear.
“Twenty-four, then.” The professor seemed to be standing closer to her now without moving an inch.
Or had the corridor somehow narrowed without her realizing it?
“That’s quite a jump, and you’re correct.” At his smirk, she added, “You knew. How?”
“Your aunt might have mentioned it.”
She smiled, and he smiled back. Time seemed to hover around them, not moving forward or backward.
The slide of a door somewhere along the corridor brought Gigi sharply into the present. “I should join my aunt and check if she needs assistance.”
The professor nodded. “I’ll see you in Vienna.”
“Yes, until Vienna.” She released his arm and walked the few paces to her compartment door. She paused before going in and glanced to where the professor still stood in the corridor.
He nodded at her, his mouth curved into a half smile.
She nodded back, then disappeared inside.
Aunt Rowena was sitting up in her bed, changed into her nightdress, her covers drawn about her. Without the glamour of her evening dress and pearls, she looked nearly a different person. Her eyes were wide as Gigi locked the compartment door.
“Do you think Nicholas has intentions on me?” Aunt Rowena asked in a hushed tone. “He was very conciliatory tonight, and I can’t help but think he told us his sad tale of lost love in order to make me feel sympathetic.”
Gigi blinked, trying to hold back a laugh. She supposed that some men younger than Aunt Rowena wouldn’t be opposed to marrying an older woman . . . but fifteen years older?
“Professor Haskins knows him better than I do.” Gigi slipped off her wrap and hung it up in the narrow closet. “Perhaps we can ask him in the morning. But I don’t think the professor would have befriended him if the man is an opportunist.” She winced the moment she said the word. She didn’t
want her aunt to think Gigi meant a younger man would only be interested in her aunt for her money.
“I don’t think he’s nefarious,” her aunt mused, her gaze growing distant with thought. “I could see that he was being sincere, but I cannot take on a second spouse. Being married once was enough for me.” She seemed to realize who her audience was and amended, “Not that marriage wasn’t a wonderful experience. I am past my prime, and it’s time to take care of me and not someone else.”
“Yes, of course.” Gigi moved in front of the small mirror and unpinned her hair. She ran a brush through the dull brown of her locks. Her thoughts turned to the Vittoria Caldoni painting and what Professor Haskins had said about her resemblance. Perhaps her brown hair wasn’t so dull after all. The comparison had felt like a compliment at the time. Had it been? It was flattering—having a man compare her to a famous painting. But then again, he was an art history professor, and he likely equated many things in his life to art.
“Georgina,” her aunt’s voice cut into Gigi’s thoughts. “What are you woolgathering about?”
Gigi looked at her aunt. What had the woman been saying? “I’m sorry. I suppose I’m tired.”
“Of course, of course,” Aunt Rowena said, her eyes taking on a speculative quality.
Gigi finished unpinning her hair, then changed into her nightdress. She turned down the gas lamp and slipped into bed between the pristine white sheets.
“Good night, Aunt,” Gigi murmured, hoping sleep would soon overtake her circling thoughts.
“You are becoming quite close to the professor,” Aunt Rowena said from the other side of the dark compartment.
Gigi drew in a breath. She had to be careful in her response. “We are merely friends. I think once he knew I was not pursuing him and that you were finished with your list, he has been able to be himself. I do not want to take that away from him.”
Aunt Rowena remained silent for a moment. “Of course not, my dear.”
There was more. Gigi could practically hear her aunt’s mind turning.
“What if after all of this he falls in love with you?” Aunt Rowena said, her tone hopeful and nearly reverent. “He was affected by Nicholas’s story tonight. I know it. A woman would have to be blind not to see that it gave him plenty to think about.”
“That might be so,” Gigi said. “But no one is going to matchmake on this trip. No one. I’d rather be friends with Professor Haskins than have him feel like I’m pursuing him.”
“You’re right,” Aunt Rowena amended. “Of course you’re right.”
Gigi guessed if the gas lamp had still been on, she would have seen her aunt’s eyes fill with anticipation.
“It’s just so hard,” Aunt Rowena said.
“What’s so hard?” Gigi was truly curious now.
“Oh, you know . . . being with two perfectly compatible people who would be excellent in a marriage . . . and not being able to say one thing about it.”
Gigi wanted to laugh. Her aunt had never kept her opinions silent. Perhaps Gigi could throw her off the professor’s trail. “Do you remember Robert Pattens?”
Her aunt didn’t answer at first. “The dark-haired man whose family owns the flower shop?”
“Yes, that’s him,” Gigi said. “When Lillian was in his shop the other day, he asked about the family and about me in particular.” She hadn’t thought too much about it at the time. Robert Pattens was a widower with two young children. If Gigi were to marry someone like him, she’d become an instant mother. A lot to consider.
“Did he?” Aunt Rowena’s voice went up a notch. “His flower shop is quite successful, is it not?”
Gigi smiled in the darkness. “I believe so.”
ChapteR EleveN
Dear Lillian,
Vienna is beautiful. I don’t even know how to describe it. The flowers, the shops, the food . . . yes, even the food is beautiful. This trip couldn’t be going any better, and Aunt Rowena’s ankle is fast healing. She’s being pampered by her two friends, me, and of course, Professor Haskins. I’ve been impressed with his bedside manner, if you will. He insists that she is made comfortable everywhere we go.
I can only write for a moment since Irene and I are going with the professor on a guided evening stroll. I’m so glad we’re spending two full days in this city . . .
The tap on her hotel room door brought Gigi fully into the present. She set down her sketchbook, where she’d been penciling a hat with waterproof material added to it. The thing was turning out to be ridiculous though.
“Irene must be here,” Aunt Rowena called out from her bedroom in the two-room suite, where Blanche was visiting with her.
It turned out that Blanche didn’t care for a guided evening stroll. Yet, Gigi would have loved to go with just Professor Haskins—not for romance or anything like that but because she loved every moment in his company. Their easy conversations. The way she felt alive and energetic around him. With Irene with them, surely the conversation would be much more proper.
“Ready?” Irene said as soon as Gigi opened the door. She wore a fur pelisse, and it reminded Gigi that she should bring something warmer. She chose a heavy shawl, then left the hotel room with Irene.
“I’ve always wanted to stroll in Vienna at sunset,” Irene said as they headed for the lobby. “You’re fortunate to have these experiences so young.”
“I do feel fortunate,” Gigi said. “I’m lucky my aunt invited me. This is certainly an experience I’ll never forget.”
Irene nodded. “I must say, I’m surprised that Rowena felt up to putting this trip together for all of us. What with her multiple doctor appointments.” She stopped with a gasp, turning her wide eyes to Gigi.
“What are you talking about?” Gigi asked in a slow voice. “Is something the matter with my aunt?”
Irene closed her eyes, then released a slow breath.
Now Gigi was on full alert. “Please,” she said, grasping Irene’s arm. “What is it? Please tell me.”
Irene looked down at her twisting hands. “I shouldn’t have said a thing.”
“I won’t tell my aunt if that’s what you’re worried about—”
“Are you ladies ready?” a voice interrupted.
A voice Gigi was always glad to hear, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. She turned and smiled at the approaching Professor Haskins. Even though Gigi’s mind was trying to figure out what Irene had meant, her heart reacted to the sight of the professor. Tap tap tap.
He grasped Irene’s hand with both of his and shook, then he turned to Gigi and did the same thing. She was tempted to cling to him, to tell him that her aunt was keeping a secret, and ask if he could help her.
But no. She only said, “We’re ready.”
“Wonderful.” His smile was broad and cheerful, and he insisted that they each take one of his arms.
They headed out of the hotel and stepped onto the street into the setting sun. Orange and gold splashed across the buildings and a nearby bridge stretching across a narrow stream. The stream looked to be filled with glowing stars as the lively ripples caught that last light of day.
They didn’t have to walk far before the professor located their walking guide. “There’s our host, Mr. Becker.”
“Guten Abend,” Irene called out with a wave. She’d been spending the day learning German phrases.
The dark-haired man with a precise mustache grinned and waved back. “Guten Abend. Two beautiful ladies. My stars are lucky tonight.”
Gigi smiled, but a weight had settled on her shoulders. She wanted to draw Irene aside and demand information. She couldn’t think of any symptoms that Aunt Rowena had shown that might indicate a serious illness. For it would have to be serious if doctors were involved, right?
But their tour guide, Mr. Becker, was already beginning his narrative. Irene walked beside him wh
ile Professor Haskins and Gigi fell into step behind the pair. Not surprisingly, the professor offered his arm to Gigi.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, taking his arm.
But he wasn’t fooled.
“What’s the matter?” he asked in a low voice as Mr. Becker continued speaking in a loud enough voice for the three of them to hear.
She bit her lip and hesitated. Irene seemed completely focused on Mr. Becker and trying out more of her German.
“I can’t . . .”
“Perhaps we can speak later?” Professor Haskins suggested.
Gigi nodded. She didn’t know what she could tell him, except her worries. She tried to focus on Mr. Becker’s words as he pointed out various locations. But soon she noticed she’d tightened her grip on the professor’s arm. Had he noticed?
He said nothing, and she felt grateful for the companionship even though she couldn’t tell him anything specific.
“Here we have a wonderful section of bakeries and chocolatiers,” Mr. Becker continued. “Everything is made fresh on a daily basis.”
“Is there anything I can do?” the professor asked in a low tone close to her ear.
“I don’t know,” Gigi whispered, glancing up, finding compassion in his hazel eyes. “Irene said something about my aunt being ill just before you came into the lobby. She acted as if she wasn’t supposed to tell me. So, of course, now I’m very worried.”
The professor’s brows drew together. “I’m very sorry to hear it . . . whatever it is.”
Gigi’s throat burned with emotion, and she could only nod. She looked away from the professor’s concerned eyes and tried to focus on the beauty of Vienna as they strolled along the walkway.
Then she felt a warm hand atop hers. She didn’t pull away, didn’t look over, but she knew the professor was trying to offer her comfort. This was not a romantic gesture. It was a friend helping another friend.
Her heart fully in her throat now, she glanced at him again. He was looking ahead, his expression seemingly lost in thought. But there was his hand, covering hers.
Until Vienna (Romance on the Orient Express) Page 8