by Renee Ryan
Gigi owed him that much. Even if it meant losing him, she wanted nothing but honesty between them. And maybe if she opened up to him, he would open up to her. Friends shared confidences, didn’t they? They turned to one another in times of need.
Is that what you really want from Fitz, friendship?
An image of his handsome, decent face played in her mind. Only moments ago, he’d held her in his arms as though his life depended upon it and had kissed her as though his world would end if he didn’t.
Gigi had held on to him with just as much desperation. She could lose him if she told him the truth. She could lose him if she didn’t.
She knew that now, accepted it.
Once Fitz knew about the pearls, about everything, he would never look at Gigi the same way. He would never kiss her, passionately or otherwise. He would find someone else to love, someone pure and innocent. He would be happy, and that was enough for Gigi.
Her heart bled for what might have been had she let her infatuation with Nathanial run its course and fade away with time.
Too late. The thought swept through her mind. Too, too late.
The hardest part about being a Christian, Gigi reflected, was the call for accepting blame where blame was due. If she hoped to achieve atonement, she must face up to what she’d done, not only in her own mind, but to her loved ones.
She would start with Fitz, tomorrow. It would not be easy. She would write out her confession tonight and practice the speech until she had the words just right in her mind.
Lips pressed tightly together, she dragged a fingertip across the piano keys with only the barest whisper of a touch, making no sound as she moved along the octaves, lowest to highest. The feel of the cool ivory beneath her skin was the final push she needed to leave the music room and get to work on her confession.
Almost the same instant she entered the hallway, as if on cue, she heard a muffled noise coming from the kitchen, then a crash, then a muttered curse that was decidedly female. She recognized the voice.
Why was Sophie entering the house through the back door? And why was she arriving home alone when she’d left the house with Esmeralda?
Gigi had a bad feeling. She went into the kitchen.
“Sophie?”
The young woman spun around, hand to her heart, eyes wide and a little spooked. “Oh, Gigi. It’s only you. I thought for a minute you were my mother.”
“Where is she?”
A mutinous expression spread across the young woman’s face.
“I left her at the ball.” A soft snort accompanied the statement. “Mama may not be an acknowledged member of society, but they seem to enjoy her company well enough.”
Which told Gigi very little, and yet so very much. Members of New York society enjoyed having famous people on their guest lists. It was considered quite a coup to have several actors, singers, and artists in attendance at their parties, so long as they knew their place. Despite the recent scandal connecting Esmeralda to Warren Griffin, the diva was considered quite a prize for any hostess. She always brought a certain flair to an event. No wonder Sophie looked so miserable. She loved her mother but not the notoriety that came with her.
That still didn’t explain why Sophie was sneaking in the house. “Was there a reason you entered through the back door instead of the front?”
The young woman looked helplessly around and up to the ceiling, as if inspiration would come from the room itself. “Not especially.”
“You’re shivering.”
“It’s cold outside.”
Gigi took her friend’s arm and guided her up the back stairwell. Once they were in her room, she tugged her to a chair by the fire, sat her down, and pulled off her sodden boots while Sophie divested herself of her outer garments.
A series of sighs leaked from the woman’s mouth.
Thinking she was cold, Gigi quickly worked off the wet silk stockings.
“Sophie, you are soaking wet.”
“I sort of . . . fell in a pond.” Another sigh slipped from the woman’s lips, softer than the others.
Now that they were in the light, Gigi realized it wasn’t misery she saw on Sophie’s face. It was happiness. The woman was happy. And in love.
Gigi’s heart plummeted to her toes. “How does one sort of fall into a pond?”
“I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She giggled, then covered her mouth with her hand. “It was an accident, of course. My fault entirely. Oh, Gigi, he was so adorably remorseful that he hadn’t moved quickly enough to save me from a proper dunking.”
“He?”
“Robert Dain, Doctor Robert Dain. He recently arrived from England.”
Nathanial had claimed to be from England. “What part of England?”
“He didn’t say. Or maybe he did and I forgot.” She shut her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead. The move rivaled any of Esmeralda’s emotional moments on the stage. “He has the most gorgeous face and a wonderful smile.”
Gigi helped the young woman stand, then stripped off the rest of the wet garments. Sophie offered very little assistance, seemingly incapable of doing much else besides babbling about the brilliant young doctor with gray eyes and black hair and something about a medical clinic in the Bowery.
The Bowery? That was the most dangerous part of New York, known for its dilapidated rooming houses, riotous saloons, and bawdy theaters.
For several heartbeats, Gigi could do nothing but blink at the woman she’d come to consider a friend. She recalled a recent conversation they’d shared, when Sophie had been so certain she would find love. To discover that she had already met a man and was smitten came as a shock. It was very difficult for Gigi to keep her thoughts to herself. She wanted—needed—to warn her friend of the dangerous road she was heading down.
Gigi had attempted to guide her previous employer, Elizabeth, from making a similar mistake and had been thoroughly ignored. Yet that had ended well, and now Elizabeth was happily married to a man of impeccable character.
But Gigi couldn’t be sure things would progress the same way for Sophie. She broached the subject with great care. “Have you ever been to the Bowery?”
“Robert said I wasn’t to go there, ever.”
“I suppose that’s something,” Gigi muttered, wrapping Sophie in a dressing gown and then planting her in the chair by the fire again.
“He’s quite the philanthropist. He doesn’t just support the needy with his wallet but with his mind and hands. I would so like to see where he works.”
“Tread carefully, Sophie.”
Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t approve of my new friend.”
“I don’t know your new friend, nor is it my place to approve or disapprove.”
“Robert is a good man.”
It was as if she’d been transported back in time to a year ago and the conversation she’d had with Fitz, when Gigi had claimed the same of Nathanial. “You don’t know that, Sophie. You can’t. You just met him this evening.”
“I have known him for three days.” The young woman gave her a distracted, starry-eyed look. “I know he would never hurt me.”
Gigi thought she might be sick. She’d said those very same words to Fitz about Nathanial. I know he would never hurt me.
“Sophie, I urge you to take matters slowly. Get to know this young man. Take the time to make sure he is exactly who he appears to be.”
“I refuse to believe Robert is anything but a good and true man.”
No, Gigi thought, this couldn’t be happening. To hear Sophie repeat, nearly verbatim, the words Gigi had used to defend Nathanial was the worst sort of blow. “May I offer a piece of advice?”
Sophie gave her a fond smile. “Can I stop you?”
“I would hate to see you fooled by a handsome face and pretty words.”
“You mean fooled like you were?”
Gigi nodded. “Falling in love with the wrong man makes a woman go small and quiet.”
“But,
Gigi, falling in love with the right man makes her a better woman all around.”
“I’m not suggesting you walk away from Robert Dain.” Although Gigi would be relieved if the young woman would do just that. “I am merely urging you to show a bit of caution.”
For several moments, Sophie stared at the fire. Her gaze was distant. “I can think of at least two examples to prove my point over yours.”
Beyond her own experience, Gigi could think of at least one to prove hers—Sophie’s mother. Though Esmeralda hadn’t been defeated because of her affair with a married man, having a child out of wedlock could not have been easy for the young opera singer hoping to become a star.
Before Gigi could say as much, Sophie spoke again. “Elizabeth hasn’t lost herself in her marriage, quite the opposite. Loving my half brother has enriched her life. The same is true of Penny. Her union with Simon has given her the sort of confidence I never thought possible. She had a terrible stammer as a child, did you know that?”
“I did not.”
“It’s true. Simon has been the best thing to ever happen to her.”
“Elizabeth and Penny are exceptions.”
“Oh, I just thought of another one. Caroline Montgomery.”
Gigi acknowledged this with a half smile. Caroline and Jackson were, indeed, very happy. “For the rest of us, love is nothing but an invitation to pain.”
“Oh, Gigi.” Sophie gained her feet and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Don’t let him turn you bitter.”
Tears pooled in Gigi’s eyes. “I’m worried about you, Sophie.”
“I will try to say this as kindly as I can.” Sophie dropped her hands from Gigi’s shoulders. “Just because you made a bad choice doesn’t mean that I will.”
She wasn’t listening. As Gigi had ignored Fitz’s warnings, Sophie was ignoring hers. “Regret is a terrible bedfellow.”
Sophie returned to her seat by the fire. Her hands reached for each other, twisted in her lap. “You have always been spot-on with your advice. This time, you are wrong.”
The conversation was proving beyond frustrating. Was this how Fitz had felt speaking with her? Had Gigi been this stubborn?
No, she’d been more so.
“Life is all about choices, Sophie. One bad decision is all it will take to lead you down a path from which you cannot return.”
“I’m sorry a man hurt you, Gigi. Truly I am. But you have to trust me when I say I know what I’m doing.”
Gigi had claimed the same. She opened her mouth to say as much, but Sophie cut her off with a slash of her hand in the air.
“I wish to be alone now. You may go.”
She’d been dismissed. Sophie would not listen to reason, at least not tonight. Gigi did the only thing she could under the circumstances. She left the young woman alone with her thoughts.
Fitz spotted Gigi waiting for him on the street corner a block away from Esmeralda’s town house. She’d pulled the hood of her cloak down to cover her face. She probably thought she was in disguise. He swallowed a smile. Gigi could never hide from him.
After descending from the carriage, he approached her with confident strides. The closer he came to her, the more he could feel her nerves.
Hand outstretched, he offered her a smile, hoping to settle her agitation. “Good morning, Gigi.”
“Hello, Fitz.” She lifted her chin, the move sending the cloak’s hood to the back of her head. The delicate sculpted bones of her cheeks and the extraordinary wealth of blue that were her eyes took his breath away.
He became oblivious to all else but her. A good way to start the day, he decided.
He took her hand and looped it through his arm. “I asked at the front desk for church suggestions in Brooklyn. I was pointed to the Brooklyn Tabernacle on Clinton Avenue and Greene Street.”
“I’ve heard of it. The music is supposed to be world-class.”
“Then the Brooklyn Tabernacle it is.”
She smiled then, and suddenly everything was right in Fitz’s world.
You’ve got it bad, my good man.
In that moment, as he helped Gigi into the carriage, he understood the desire to run away from the world. Fitz wanted to run. He wanted to escape a future imprisoned in his own mind. He wanted a life where he could choose a wife, knowing she wouldn’t be trapped with an invalid.
Heart bleak, he rapped on the roof of the carriage. They set off with a hard jerk. The move nearly sent Gigi tumbling into his lap from the seat across. He reached out to her, but she was already righting herself on her own.
So independent, he thought. Small wonder, that. She’d been taking care of herself for nearly a year.
With a flick of her wrist, she shoved the hood off her head. “Now that we’re sufficiently alone, I want to tell you about my time with Nathanial and what I had to do to survive after he left.”
A weight settled in Fitz’s gut. He didn’t want to hear the story. He wanted, if only for this one day, to enjoy Gigi’s company without the past standing between them. “You can tell me after Sunday service.”
She flexed her fingers in her lap, curled them into two tight fists. “I’d rather not wait that long.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“Actually, I do. But if you don’t care to hear them now . . .” She rolled her shoulders, brought her hands together and braided her fingers through one another. “Sophie has met a man.”
Since he’d been a witness to this, Fitz decided to skip any pretense of not knowing where this was going. “You think this is a bad thing.”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Maybe. She’s over the moon for him. I tried to warn her to be careful. She wouldn’t listen to me.”
How well Fitz understood the helplessness he heard in Gigi’s voice. “I trust you didn’t let it go at that.”
He hadn’t.
“She doesn’t know the first thing about the man. She would hear none of my warnings. I was extremely adamant, and it was like speaking to a blank sheet of paper for all the attention she gave me.” Gigi glanced up, her eyes full of emotion. “It was all so very frustrating.”
“I imagine it was.”
“Yes.” She gave him an uneasy glance. “I suppose you know exactly what I mean.”
He laid a hand over hers and said nothing. There was nothing to say. They’d already made their apologies.
Gigi started to speak, then stopped. She moved to sit beside him on his side of the carriage. “Will you let me tell you about Nathanial now?”
“If you must.”
“I’m afraid I must.”
The gentle rocking of the carriage was at odds with the tension that hung between them.
Fitz could see the beating of Gigi’s pulse on her neck. Her face was sheet white, the muscles in her jaw tight. Her struggle to catch her breath made his heart trip. He wanted to make this easy for her. The extent of that longing humbled him.
He gently lifted her chin with his fingertip, holding it there until she looked him directly in the eyes. He ran his gaze over her face, taking careful inventory of the tiny lines of anxiety fanning out from her eyes and mouth.
A bone-deep urgency to protect this woman overwhelmed all other thought.
“What did Dixon do to you, Gigi?” Fitz was surprised by the rage in his voice. “How did he hurt you?”
She lowered her head. “I don’t think I can tell you after all.”
He could see she would rather keep her secret safely hidden. How well he knew the need to conceal bits of himself, to suffer through the tormenting pain of carrying his burdens alone. But if Fitz didn’t encourage Gigi to unburden herself with him, would she turn to someone else? Was there anyone else? In whom could she confide?
A frown tugged at his brow as he contemplated how alone Gigi was in the world.
She didn’t have family or friends. She didn’t even have the benefit of going through life with her own name. Her only support was the woman who employed her. An
d him.
Gigi had him.
Fitz badly wanted to give her his unwavering support, his unconditional acceptance. The trick would be convincing her to let him.
She sat there, so strong and brave, her spine perfectly erect. Regardless of her stiff posture, Fitz was struck by the graceful way she entwined her fingers together in her lap. There was nothing hard about this woman, nothing coarse or brazen. Despite all that had happened to her, she still personified the elegance that had been bred in her from birth.
“Tell me what happened with Dixon.”
Slowly, she looked back up. “You’ll think differently of me once I do.”
“You’ll get no judgment from me, no condemnation.”
“I don’t know quite where to start.” Her voice was very quiet. “I fell for him almost immediately.” She smiled ruefully. “I was dazzled. He said all the right things to turn my head. I believed I was special. I began meeting him secretly within days of our initial meeting.”
With slow, deliberate movements, Fitz sat back. “You let him court you in private that soon?”
“He was very persistent, very convincing with his attentions. I was blinded to his faults and allowed him certain . . . liberties from the very beginning of our acquaintance.”
Fitz had never been prone to violence, but he felt his temper rise with vicious force. If Dixon were to show up now, Fitz would likely beat the man to a pulp.
“Go on,” he urged.
There was another moment of hesitation before she continued. “When Nathanial asked me to run away with him, I thought he meant to marry me. He convinced me that once we married, my father would be forced to accept him.”
He tried not to show his reaction, but with each new piece of evidence pointing to the man’s despicable lies, anger stormed through Fitz.
She carried on, explaining in a halting tone how she’d managed to sneak out of Harvest House. “I took the pearls from the safe in my father’s study.”
“He told you the combination?”