by Renee Ryan
Well, yes, it had been. “I’m glad you’re not upset. You’re not upset, are you?”
“Not even a little.” Releasing a light laugh, she added, “I can’t wait to tell Robert. He’ll find the incident quite humorous, I’m sure. He dislikes New York society nearly as much as I do.”
Gigi reminded her of the months she’d been desperate to fit into this very society.
Sophie gave a heartfelt sigh. “I find in matters such as these that a poor memory works best.”
“Indeed.”
“Oh, Gigi, be happy for me. I have discovered a new perspective.” She gave another tinkling laugh. “A change in focus changes everything.”
These weren’t Sophie’s words. Gigi felt a spike of dread. “When, precisely, did your perspective change?”
“When I met Robert, of course.” She unhooked her arm from Gigi’s. “He’s very wise.”
Sophie had only met him a handful of days ago. How much wisdom could one man impart in such a limited period of time?
“Have you seen Robert recently?”
“Perhaps I have and”—she winked—“perhaps I haven’t.”
The coy answer did not sit well with Gigi. In a matter of days, a stranger had influenced Sophie in ways Gigi hadn’t been able to do in months.
She attempted to voice her concerns, but Sophie was already climbing the stairs to Elizabeth’s town house. She lifted the knocker, let it fall with a loud bang.
A man of indeterminate age, dressed in the universal butler’s uniform of black coat, black pants, and crisp white shirt, welcomed them with a sufficiently proper bow. “Good day, ladies.”
“Good day,” they said in unison.
Sophie gave him their names, then asked, “Are we the first to arrive?”
“You are the last. The others are awaiting your arrival in the parlor.” He stepped aside to let them pass.
At their confused stares, he added, “At the top of the stairs, down the hallway, second door on your right.”
As they made their way to the parlor, Gigi took a quick inventory of Elizabeth’s new home. She noted details she would have missed a year ago. The runner on the steps had a soft burgundy pattern of colorful flowers and birds. The banisters gleamed with a fresh coat of polish. The scent of lemon oil meant someone had recently cleaned the wood.
In the parlor, her eyes went to the window treatments. Burgundy draperies with gold-corded trim hung from ceiling to floor. They, too, had been cleaned recently, with pressed pleats at even intervals. The porcelain figurines on the end tables were free of dust. They were dainty and feminine, and so very Elizabeth. The stack of books and basket full of embroidery added a homey feel to the room.
Gigi turned her attention to the three women huddled together. She held back and studied them much as she had the décor.
They greeted Sophie with hugs and kisses. The warm welcome spoke of their fondness for the young woman.
Sophie’s half sister seemed the most excited to see her. The newlywed was a classic beauty, her face a perfect oval shape. She had light-brown hair, and the family resemblance with Sophie was definitely there in those remarkable amber eyes. Their mutual affection and easy manner with each other gave Gigi a sense of great relief. When she left New York, she would be leaving Sophie in capable hands.
Gigi’s gaze bounced from the siblings to Caroline and Elizabeth St. James, now Caroline Montgomery and Elizabeth Griffin. The two stood near the fireplace. Wrapped in the golden light, Caroline glowed. Elizabeth looked equally beautiful. The two women had found their place in the world.
Gigi sighed with pleasure for them.
As if hearing the sound, Elizabeth glanced over. She angled her head, blinked. Then, her eyes widened and she gave a delighted squeal. “Sally, you came.”
The woman hurried over, her cousin hard on her heels. The two made quite a stunning pair. Caroline’s dark hair posed a startling contrast to Elizabeth’s pale-blonde locks, and though one had green eyes and the other blue, they shared the same oval face and bow-shaped lips.
“Oh, Sally, I almost didn’t recognize you.” Giving her no chance to respond, Elizabeth dragged her into a quick hug.
Caroline took her turn next. Keeping her hands on Gigi’s shoulders, she stepped back and gazed at her intently. Under the close inspection, a swarm of nerves took flight in Gigi’s stomach.
“Your hair is striking,” Caroline said in her carefully cultured British accent. “That shade suits your coloring to perfection.”
Gigi fidgeted from foot to foot. She hadn’t received this much attention since running away from Boston.
“It’s not just the hair.” Elizabeth peered over her cousin’s shoulder. “Something else has changed, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. You’ve always been pretty, but there’s strength in you now. Yes, that’s just the word. You’re stronger.”
“You do seem more confident,” Caroline agreed, lowering her hands. “I declare you quite transformed.”
“I’m the same person.”
“Well, whatever has caused this lovely change, I’m glad you came today. I was just telling Caroline how much I have missed you.” Elizabeth moved in and gave Gigi another fast hug. “Welcome, my friend.”
“Thank you.”
“Come, let’s sit.” Caroline reached out, laying a hand on Gigi’s arm in an innate show of comfort. “I want to hear what you’ve been doing with yourself these past few months.”
Gigi’s heart drummed as she followed the two women to an elegant settee.
This moment felt like more than a reunion with former employers, more than a chance to catch up with friends. Gigi was a guest today, not a servant. Was this luncheon the next step to whatever awaited her in Boston? Or was the encounter with Mrs. Pembroke and her daughters a prelude of things to come?
One step at a time, she told herself, as she’d once counseled Elizabeth. No need to borrow trouble where there was none.
“Well,” Elizabeth began. “Won’t you tell us what you’ve been up to since we last met?”
Positioned between the cousins, Gigi tried to remember the last time she’d seen either woman. It had been at Elizabeth’s wedding. “I’ve been enjoying serving as Sophie’s maid.”
Both sets of eyes swept over the woman in question. “How is that going?”
Gigi glanced over to Sophie as well. She and Penelope were caught up in their own animated conversation. “She is settling into her new life as well as can be expected.”
Elizabeth let out a small push of air. “Luke will be happy to hear that. Let me take this opportunity to say thank you. We’ve been worried about her.”
Gigi wasn’t sure if she should tell Elizabeth about Robert Dain or not.
“You have guided Sophie through the labyrinth of New York society quite successfully. Many homes have opened for her, though not all, but we knew that would be the case.”
“I did nothing out of the ordinary. I am merely her maid.”
“You are more than that,” Caroline said. “I pray one day soon you will trust Elizabeth and me enough to share the truth of who you really are.”
They knew.
These women knew she was a fraud.
As she studied the compassion in each of their faces, a white-hot ball of remorse burned in her chest. She nearly jumped up and rushed out of the room.
But Elizabeth’s soft voice stole her ability to move, to think. “Whatever you are hiding, you will get no judgment from us, Sally.”
Sally. These kind women who’d taken her into their homes didn’t even know her real name. She’d told so many half-truths and lies. Too many to know how to ask for forgiveness.
But then she remembered Caroline had told her share of falsehoods. She’d come seeking revenge on the grandfather she’d thought had abandoned her and her mother, only to discover the family she’d always desired.
If Caroline could find forgiveness, could Gigi?
She locked her panic deep inside a dark place
in her soul, wrapped her arms around her waist, and waged an internal battle. The fight melted out of her with every tick of her heartbeat. The need to tell these women the truth was too strong to dismiss.
If only she knew where to begin.
As if she’d been waiting for this moment, Sophie moved to a spot directly in front of Gigi. She knelt in front of her, took her hands, and squeezed them gently. “It’s time to tell them who you are.”
Gigi’s heart wobbled.
“At least tell them your real name.”
Her name. Yes, that was the place to start. She glanced from Caroline to Elizabeth and then to Penelope, a woman she hardly knew.
The soft smile she gave Gigi was identical to the one on Sophie’s face. “Your secret will be safe with me. But, if you would prefer, I will leave the room.”
Because she believed the young woman’s sincerity, Gigi insisted, “I would like you to stay.”
“Then I will stay.” Penelope moved closer, still smiling kindly.
The remaining scraps of Gigi’s resistance dissolved. “I was born Georgina Wentworth, but I have been called Gigi for as long as I can remember.”
“Gigi.” Caroline turned thoughtful. “It suits you.”
“I hail from Boston.” She gave Sophie a meaningful look.
“So you do know Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
She nodded.
Now that she’d begun, Gigi dropped the Midwestern accent she’d adopted as part of her disguise and spoke in her real voice. “Fitz and I grew up together. Our families have always been close.”
“He came for you.”
“Yes.”
“How . . . romantic.”
It was hardly that. Gigi opened her mouth to disabuse Sophie of her misconceptions when Caroline asked, “Who, precisely, is this Mr. Fitzpatrick?”
The question unleashed the rest of Gigi’s story. Once she began, she was helpless to stop the words from coming in a rush, tumbling over one another.
Gigi told them about her long-ago friendship with Fitz. “I’m not sure when everything went wrong, but he changed almost overnight. The man I had always considered a friend became a cold stranger, one my father was determined I marry.”
“Did you marry him?”
She shook her head. “I tried to express my concerns about the match, first to Fitz, then to my father. Neither man would listen.”
She cringed at the memory of her father’s refusal to bend on the matter.
“So you ran away from an arranged marriage,” Caroline decided. “This Mr. Fitzpatrick must be a truly terrible person.”
“I’ve met him. I like him.” Sophie’s cheeks colored to a becoming shade of pink when all eyes turned to her. “Not in that way. He’s been nothing but kind to me. He seems to know how to handle my mother, which says a lot about the man.”
“I’ve met him as well. He seemed quite nice,” Elizabeth said, frowning. “Luke is considering going into business with him. Is there something I should tell my husband before the contracts are signed?”
Gigi shook her head. “Fitz is the best man I know.”
As soon as she said the words, she realized they were true.
“Then why didn’t you want to marry him?” Caroline asked, her confusion evident.
Gigi explained about her friend Verity and her arranged marriage to a man of her father’s choosing. The volatile life she’d led ever since her wedding day. “I didn’t want to be trapped in a marriage like hers. With the change in Fitz, I feared we would both be unhappy.”
“So you ran away.”
“Yes. But . . .” Now came the hard part. “I didn’t run off alone.”
She held Sophie’s gaze, praying the young woman listened very closely to the next part of her story.
With very little inflection, Gigi explained how she met and fell in love with Nathanial. She left no detail out. She told of Fitz’s warnings, of her father’s threats, and of her own refusal to see reason.
“I was in love.” Again, she looked at Sophie. “Nothing and no one could persuade me to take matters slowly.”
Eyebrows drawn together, Sophie moved to a chair opposite Gigi.
Gigi continued with her story, describing their time in New York, spending wildly and denying themselves nothing until the day Nathanial left. “He sent me to the church ahead of him. He claimed he had a special wedding gift planned. He never showed up.”
Sophie gasped. “Was he hurt?” Her eyes looked large and round in her face. “Was it something truly terrible that kept him away?”
Gigi hunched in her seat. Sophie’s romantic sensibilities were so much like hers had once been. And so very much off the mark.
The horrors of that awful moment when she’d realized Nathanial was never coming played through Gigi’s mind. “He left me with nothing but a large hotel bill to pay. That was when I met you,” she said to Caroline.
“Oh, you poor, poor dear.” Caroline dragged Gigi into her arms and held her for several seconds. “To be betrayed so completely by a man you trusted. What you must have suffered. It’s quite unconscionable.”
The others agreed with various degrees of sympathy and agony on their faces.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I brought shame and misery on myself.” Barely trusting herself to speak any longer, Gigi quickly added, “Now that you know the full nature of my disgrace, I wouldn’t blame you if you thought less of me.”
“Less of you? Not at all.” Elizabeth gave one firm shake of her head. “I have nothing but admiration. Nathanial tried to break you, but you survived.”
Gigi glanced from one woman to the next, seeing the truth of their acceptance in their gazes. “You don’t think me a—”
“Now, Sally. I mean, Gigi. I just adore that name.” Elizabeth gave her a soft, affectionate smile. “Anyway, Gigi, you will receive no judgment from us. No condemnation. You were treated horribly and you made the best of a disastrous situation.”
“You are to be admired,” Penelope said, speaking for the first time. “If it were me, I don’t think I would have had the strength to carry on after what Nathanial did to you.”
Sophie nodded, her troubled thoughts whirling in her gaze.
For Sophie’s sake, Gigi admitted the truth of her life as Sally Smith. “There have been days when I haven’t done so well.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Many nights I have wrapped myself in a blanket to sit and lament over all that I have lost because of my own foolishness.”
A servant appeared in the doorway, gave a short nod at Elizabeth, then disappeared again.
Just as Caroline muttered something very unladylike about fortune hunters, Elizabeth stood and reached to Gigi. “We’ll finish this in the dining room.”
Once she was in her seat at the dining room table, Gigi took a sip of tea and eyed Sophie over the cup’s rim. The young woman was unusually quiet and thoughtful. Had she taken Gigi’s sad tale to heart?
Tired of talking about herself, Gigi turned her attention to the woman beside her. “Marriage suits you, Caroline.”
The other woman laughed, clearly delighted by the compliment. “I never expected to find such joy, not with my sordid past. But Jackson is the best thing that ever happened to me. I fall in love with him more and more every day.”
Oh, to love that completely. “It shows.”
“While we’re here among friends, Caroline”—Elizabeth smiled at her cousin—“why don’t you share your happy news.”
A delicate frown marred Caroline’s pretty face as she cast Gigi a quick glance from beneath her lashes. “Not now.”
“Please, Caroline,” Gigi urged. “Tell us your news.”
“Only if Elizabeth tells hers first.”
Wondering at the secretive smiles the cousins shared, Gigi looked from one to the other. “What’s going on with you two?”
“I’m with child. Jackson and I are going to have a baby.”
A baby. Gigi stared at her friend. A baby. Caroline and Jackson were offici
ally starting their family.
“I’m in the same condition,” Elizabeth announced next. “Luke and I will welcome a baby boy or girl into our home nearly a year from the day we were married.”
Gigi blinked as the news settled over her, as reality gripped her heart and squeezed. Will I ever be that blessed? Will I ever have news such as this to share?
For a terrible, awful moment, she didn’t know what to say, how to feel. Happy. She was supposed to be happy for her friends. Of course she was happy for them. She’d been with them on their journey to love and rejoiced that they would soon be mothers.
Gigi found her voice. “This is marvelous news.”
Penelope reached over and squeezed her sister-in-law’s hand. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”
“You, too, Caroline,” Gigi added.
Happy tears sprang into everyone’s eyes.
Gigi’s filled as well, though she felt a surge of crippling jealousy. If only she hadn’t rushed matters. If only she’d trusted the Lord to guide her to the right man. If only . . .
No. She’d made her choices and must live with them, even if that meant entering her dotage as a spinster.
Gigi’s vision blurred as her eyes turned misty, and she thought she might blubber into her soup.
As if sensing her shift in mood, Caroline patted her hand. “I’m confident you’ll find a good man, one worthy of you and far better than that terrible, awful Nathanial.”
“You’re right, of course.” Gigi said the words for her friend’s benefit. But she could barely hold back her grief. One rogue tear wiggled to the edge of her lashes and slipped down the side of her face. No. No more crying. She would not give Nathanial that much power over her, not anymore. No. More.
Despite her best efforts, Gigi couldn’t hold back the tears after all. She let a few fall freely down her cheeks before swiping them away.
“Gigi?” Caroline’s worry sounded in her voice.
“I’m all right. Truly. I’m just so pleased for you both.”
Determined to make the words true, she allowed herself to get swept away in her friends’ joy. By the time dessert was served, her happiness was real.