Until Vienna (Romance on the Orient Express)

by Heather B. Moore

  She wasn’t entirely sure because she felt like she was in some sort of strange dream seeing the professor in her family drawing room in the space where she spent part of every day.

  “Have a seat,” her mother said. “I’ll have our maid bring in tea. I assume you’d like some refreshment.”

  “I’ve never turned down refreshment,” he said with a smile.

  Everyone laughed, or giggled, making the drawing room sound like a children’s schoolyard.

  Gigi’s face warmed. Her family sure acted differently when there was a gentleman in the room.

  “Tell me all about how your recovery is going,” the professor asked her aunt.

  So they sat through several moments of Aunt Rowena’s update. The tea arrived, and her mother poured a cup for everyone after asking the professor how he liked his tea.

  “One sugar.”

  Had he looked at Gigi on purpose when he spoke? Why was she reading so much into his every word and action?

  “Now, tell us all about the rest of the tour,” Aunt Rowena said. “I must live vicariously through you.”

  The professor chuckled. “If you must know, the tour was not the same without the two of you.” His gaze slid to Gigi’s.

  And of course Lillian was watching her closely, a sly smile on her face, probably checking for any reactions. Gigi was sure she’d get an earful after the professor left.

  She wasn’t even sure she absorbed any of his descriptions of the cities, hotels, and museums. She was certainly looking at him, listening even, just not exactly comprehending.

  “And now what are your plans?” Aunt Rowena said.

  “I’m preparing for my next round of lectures at the university,” he said. “Classes begin in a few weeks.”

  “Ah, so you have a bit of a break.”

  His smile turned amused. “A bit.”

  “Perfect,” Aunt Rowena said. “That means you should accompany us to the Victoria and Albert Museum in two weeks’ time. That will be my first outing, and I’ve never attended with an art expert.”

  This was quite a bold invitation, and Gigi tried to act like she wasn’t surprised at her aunt’s request. Having the professor pay a short visit and politely inquire after her health was one thing . . . but inviting him on an outing was quite another.

  “I’d love to,” he said with no hesitation.

  Aunt Rowena clasped her hands together. “Wonderful.”

  Without even meeting her aunt’s gaze, Gigi knew that the invitation had been for her benefit. Her aunt hadn’t given up. Not yet. Gigi wanted to laugh. Her aunt might have asked for forgiveness in her matchmaking schemes, but she could not truly change her character.

  “I thank you for the refreshments,” the professor said. “And it was great to meet everyone.”

  “Thank you for your visit,” Aunt Rowena said. “You have been a kind man, and I will recommend your tour to everyone I know.”

  “Very well,” he said in an amused tone.

  Everyone but Aunt Rowena rose as he stood, and it was like a crew of sparrows following him to the door.

  He took his hat from the coat rack and turned a final time. At least what Gigi had thought was a final time.

  “Miss Ballard,” he said, his gaze upon her. “Would you care to go for a stroll?”

  She was stunned, to say the least. He’d asked her to go for a walk in front of her entire family . . . Of course, it wasn’t like they would have a chance to be alone on their walk. Not like those stolen moments on the train.

  “Yes,” she said, knowing she sounded breathless. “I’d like that very much.”

  Lillian was probably about to laugh, and her mother was beaming. Surely Aunt Rowena could hear them from the drawing room and was likely silently clapping.

  “I’ll just get my hat.”

  “Oh, you can wear mine,” Lillian said, plucking her hat from the coat rack, where she must have left it earlier.

  “All right.” Gigi exhaled and put on the hat, her fingers trembling.

  Lillian moved close to help her pin it in place.

  “Thank you,” Gigi said, her face heating up.

  Lillian only smiled. “Have a nice walk.”

  Professor Haskins . . . Clyde . . . opened the door, and she stepped out first. The day was rather warm, but Gigi didn’t mind in the least. He extended his arm, and just like that, they were walking side by side along her neighborhood street.

  She couldn’t think of a thing to say, and she doubted her voice would be steady anyway.

  The professor didn’t say anything for a long moment either, and perhaps that was all right. But as the silence stretched, Gigi began to feel antsy.

  “Thank you again for coming,” she said. “My aunt has been looking forward to this for a long time . . . really, since we left the tour.”

  He slowed their steps. “And you?”

  The two words were simple but said so much.

  She looked up at him to find his gaze on her, open and steady.

  “You know I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”

  He smiled. “That’s good to hear.” Then he fully stopped, bringing her to a stop as well. They’d reached the edge of a small park. Children were playing beyond, watched over by nurses or mothers.

  “Gigi . . .” He released her arm and took her hand. “I didn’t know how it would be seeing you again. I wondered if the enjoyment I found in spending time with you was part of the nature of the tour. But when you walked into the drawing room earlier today, I knew it wasn’t just the tour.”

  She had to look away from his penetrating gaze, so she looked down at their linked hands instead as his thumb skimmed over her wrist. Her heart was nearing double-time, and she wasn’t even sure she could take a full breath.

  “Gigi . . .”

  She lifted her chin and saw a tenderness in his gaze that sent hope skittering throughout her body.

  “May I court you?”

  Her eyes began to burn. Why would she cry now? She should be happy. But she was happy, she realized, and apparently that was going to make her cry. “Yes,” she whispered because that was all she could manage for now.

  “Do you need my handkerchief?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I think I do.”

  His mouth curved into a smile as he handed it over. Gigi dabbed at her eyes, then inhaled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I guess I thought you were set on being a bachelor as you told me—”

  His hand touched her jaw, effectively stopping her speech. “I know what I said, and it was true at the time that I spoke the words. But when you left the tour, I was at a loss . . . a feeling I’d never had before. I knew it was because you weren’t with me.”

  She blinked back new tears. “So that kiss wasn’t a goodbye?”

  His eyes danced with merriment, and he dropped his hand to grasp her other hand. “Not at all. It was a beginning.” He tilted his head. “If that’s all right with you.”

  “It’s all right with me.”

  The professor smiled, and he squeezed her hand. “If only we weren’t in a public place . . .” His voice trailed off, but the meaning was clear in his eyes.

  She wanted to kiss him too. Instead, she smiled. Had she ever smiled so much around a single person? She highly doubted it. “I’m guessing you’ll come to the museum with us in two weeks. My aunt is so looking forward to it.”

  “I can’t wait two weeks before seeing you again,” he said. “It must be much sooner. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Her heart leapt at this declaration. “Tomorrow might set my family all atwitter.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said in a low voice that sent a delicious shiver through her.

  She wanted to grin, but she kept her calm as she said, “How about the day after? We could walk in the park. I’
ll keep my afternoon free.” She pushed away the thoughts of how Mrs. Stanton wanted her to work extra hours. Because Professor Haskins wanted to see her again.

  “It’s a plan,” he said. “What time shall I be at your place?”

  Would it be childish to skip all the way home? It was impossible to keep a smile at bay. Did she look overeager? And was she really having this conversation with Professor Haskins? It appeared so. He still had a hold of her hands, and the depths of his hazel eyes were focused solely on her. “Three o’clock?”

  He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  It seemed dreams really could come true. And now she was reluctant to return home, but she knew their time was short if they were to keep things proper.

  As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I should walk you back home or your family will think I’ve spirited you away.”

  As they walked back, she said, “What sort of lectures are you preparing, Professor Has—?”

  “Clyde, my dear Gigi,” he said. “Please call me Clyde.”

  Surely she was blushing now. “What sort of lectures are you preparing, Clyde?”

  He grinned. “Interesting that you should ask. I’m preparing a presentation on Johann Friedrich Overbeck.”

  “Ah.” Warmth prickled her skin. “Does one have to be a university student to hear your lectures?”

  “For some, yes,” he said. “But there are other special-occasion lectures that are open to the public.”

  They’d reached her home, and his steps slowed as he gazed down at her. “Would you like to be my guest?”

  She stopped with him, lifting her chin. “I would.”

  “Excellent.”

  They stood for a moment, the traffic in the street a distant sound, the warm breeze stirring their clothing as a new understanding formed between them.

  She wanted to step into his arms, to nestle against him, to have him lean down and . . .

  “Come,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m fairly certain your sister or mother just parted the drapes to make sure we are being proper.”

  Gigi laughed. Hope had lodged itself firmly inside of her. Clyde Haskins was a fine man indeed. Handsome and kind and tempting all in one breath. And she was falling quite madly, deeply, and completely in love with him.

  ChapteR NineteeN

  Dear Clyde,

  It feels strange to write your first name, and I almost wrote Professor Haskins. But I am being obedient to your wishes. You were right. My sister was peering through the drapes, spying on us. Although she denied it, I know my sister almost better than myself.

  I’m afraid that when you show up tomorrow afternoon, you’ll be facing a barrage of women again. My mother, my aunt, and my sister are fully invested in you courting me. I hope it wasn’t too forward of me to tell them that bit at least. If so, then it’s too late now to take back that revelation. Otherwise, I will plan to apologize properly. Preferably in private . . .

  The letter was posted, and her flirtatious words played in her mind as Gigi walked from the post to the dressmaker’s shop. She’d been keeping herself as busy as possible—attending to Aunt Rowena, even though she was nearly back to full health, drawing up various sketches for her sister’s wedding dress, working on her men’s fashions. But . . . her mind strayed most often to Clyde.

  Was he truly denouncing his bachelorhood? For her?

  The idea was a heady one, that she was the woman to bring such a charming man back into availability.

  She spent part of the day helping a few of the clients in Frederica’s place at the dressmaker’s shop. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it might be, although the customers were definitely pretentious. At least Gigi knew what to recommend. She’d finished with her last client and was straightening things in the shop when Lillian came in.

  Alarm shot through Gigi immediately as she wondered if something was wrong with Aunt Rowena. Had there been a setback? But Lillian was all smiles. “I thought you might want to see this sooner than later.” She waved an envelope.

  It had to be from Professor Haskins—Clyde—or why else would her sister tease her?

  She snatched the letter, unable to hide her impatience.

  Lillian laughed as she released it. “Now that I’ve brought it all the way over here, you’d better tell me what it says.”

  Glancing at Mrs. Stanton, who seemed preoccupied with the accounting ledgers, Gigi motioned for her sister to follow her into the back room.

  She tore open the letter with little ceremony and couldn’t help but skim the words quickly before reading more slowly. But it wasn’t a note of flowery sentiments or sweet promises. No . . . Her chest went tight.

  “What is it?” Lillian asked, her tone concerned.

  “It’s . . .” Gigi swallowed. “Here. Read it yourself.” She closed her eyes, unable to watch how her sister’s expression might change.

  Dear Miss Ballard,

  I have some news, and we must speak in person. Unfortunately, something from my past has arisen. I won’t be able to make our arranged time tomorrow. How does the following afternoon sound?

  Sincerely,

  Professor Haskins

  “What does this mean?” Lillian asked.

  Gigi opened her eyes. “I’m not exactly sure, but whatever it is, it’s not good.”

  Her sister frowned. “How can you be sure? It’s not exactly a set down.”

  Her breath was turning shallow. “He called me Miss Ballard and signed it Professor Haskins.”

  Lillian’s mouth formed an O. “Ah. I see.” She folded the letter. “And you think that’s significant?”

  By the growing hollow in her stomach, Gigi had no doubt. “Yes. The last time we saw each other, he was insistent that I call him Clyde. He’s been calling me Gigi since . . . since Vienna.”

  Lillian nodded as if she understood perfectly. “I see. Well . . .” She exhaled. “I suppose we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out. There’s nothing you can do right now personally.”

  “Except worry,” Gigi said in a dull voice.

  “Except that.” Lillian stepped close to Gigi and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll face this like the strong woman you are. Whatever it is, it’s not something you’ve done wrong. He did say this thing was from his past.”

  Gigi leaned into her sister. “That’s what worries me the most.”

  Lillian rubbed Gigi’s shoulder. “Why?”

  “He was engaged before,” she said. “Did I tell you that?” She pressed on without waiting for a reply. “The breakup was so devastating to him that he didn’t want to marry ever.”

  “But you’ve changed that already,” Lillian said. “So maybe it’s something else with his family. What is his family like?”

  “He hasn’t really talked about them,” Gigi said with a sigh. “What if I don’t know him at all? What if there are secrets in his past or—”

  “Shh,” Lillian soothed. “You can worry yourself sick, or you can reconcile yourself to supporting him in whatever predicament he’s found himself. Perhaps it’s something that he’s worried will put you off. So now you need to decide how you truly feel about him.”

  Gigi nodded, hoping her sister was right . . . that this was something that he was just worried about and not something that would return him to his bachelor status.

  “Tonight you will be sufficiently distracted,” Lillian continued. “Bart and his family are coming for supper, remember?”

  This only made Gigi feel worse. She could already feel her mood shifting to pensive, and now she’d have to be around company who’d only want to talk about the upcoming wedding plans for Lillian and Bart, the perfect couple.

  “Can you leave work a little early?” Lillian said. “I’ll buy you an ice. I feel terrible for bringing you a letter that has you so worried.”

 
Gigi bit her lip. “I suppose I can leave a little early, but you shouldn’t feel guilty. None of this is your doing.”

  “I’m sorry all the same,” Lillian said in a soft voice, then moved to hug Gigi.

  Gigi squeezed her sister tight. If nothing else, she had her family. And now Aunt Rowena was nearly as good as new.

  The two sisters made their way down the street in the sunny afternoon. Carts and carriages rolled by, and pedestrians bustled about their business. Everyone seemed to have a purpose, an errand, and no one seemed to be sinking into themselves like Gigi was. She would get through this. Her sister was right. Whatever it was, Gigi would be strong.

  But curiosity continued to burn hot in her chest throughout the evening as she prepared for the supper and as she greeted their guests.

  Bart was a good match for Lillian in more ways than one. His dark hair and brown eyes complemented Lillian’s nearly black hair and lighter brown eyes. But Bart indulged in Lillian’s chatter, and no matter what she said, he seemed enamored of her. Their favorite thing was to escape to the back garden, where Bart always plucked her a flower. His father, Mr. Anderson, was the quiet sort, and Mrs. Anderson was instantly in cahoots with Aunt Rowena as they discussed wedding flowers. Gigi tried to join in with the supper conversation, but she couldn’t focus. All she could think about was Clyde’s letter.

  She’d read it through a second time when she was dressing for tonight’s supper, and the feeling of foreboding had swept over her again.

  By the time the evening ended and the Anderson family had gone home, Gigi felt like she would never calm down enough to sleep. She retired as soon as she could, but she still lay in her dark bedroom, gazing at the sliver of moonlight coming through the drapes.

  Finally, she climbed out of bed, pulled on a robe, and began to write a letter she’d never send.

  Dear Professor Haskins,

  I understand that sometimes life doesn’t fall into line how we plan. Our first plan is thwarted, and our second plan is as well. I can only guess at what complications you are facing right now, but if my guess is right, please know you don’t owe me anything, not even an explanation, although it would be nice to have it. You can write me back with any message you need to convey, and I will understand your reluctance and distance.