by Renee Ryan
“But Fitz knows the truth.”
Gigi’s only reply was a quick nod of her head.
“And he’s over there attempting to protect your secret?”
“It would appear so.”
A sigh slipped out of Elizabeth. “He must care for you a great deal.”
For an instant, Gigi allowed herself to consider the possibility. Yet she felt an unpleasant pinch in her chest because she knew a future with Fitz was an unattainable wish on her part. She was spoiled for a proper marriage.
Oh, sure, Fitz had spoken of forgiveness and God’s grace. He’d listened to her secrets without judgment, but he hadn’t shared any of his. She’d given him every opportunity to open up to her. Yet he continued to keep her at a distance.
Nothing had changed between them. Fitz was as withdrawn as ever. Even if he truly accepted her past, and she could believe herself worthy of a man like him, what chance did they have if he refused to open up even just a little?
Gigi glanced at him from beneath her lashes. Her heartbeat went a little crazy, thudding hard and unevenly against her ribs.
She quickly looked away.
Elizabeth grimaced. “It would appear Mr. Chesterfield has returned to the subject of your presence here in New York and is asking questions.”
“He must be stopped.” Gigi turned.
Elizabeth stilled her progress with a hand on her arm. “Fitz seems to have the situation under control.”
That’s what concerned Gigi most. Brian had left Boston at a time when their family and friends had been expecting the announcement of her engagement to Fitz.
She was on the move in the next instant.
This is what comes from telling lies.
The truth always came to light eventually and rarely in a convenient manner.
Gigi’s mind worked furiously for an answer to Brian’s queries that didn’t include a close connection to Fitz. She was in New York to visit old friends, to see the sights, to attend the opera or perhaps a performance at Carnegie Hall. A million reasons came to mind, any of which would do.
Gigi heard Elizabeth say her name, but she didn’t slow her approach.
“She recently made the acquaintance of Esmeralda Cappelletti,” she heard Fitz say. Thankfully, he left the specifics vague.
It was the perfect moment for her to join the conversation.
“I’ve always been a fan. Esmeralda is a marvelous talent.” Gigi drew to a stop beside Fitz. “Her rendition of Carmen has no rival.”
Luke snorted. Elizabeth gave him a sharp glance.
Missing the silent interchange between husband and wife, Brian took to the new topic with aplomb. “I heard Esmeralda sing the lead role of that particular operetta in London last year. She was marvelous. I understand her American debut is coming soon.”
“In two short days.” Her nerves suddenly making her talkative, Gigi proceeded to expound on the preparations under way and let herself get carried away, closing with, “The Summer Garden Theater is the perfect setting for Esmeralda’s return to the stage.”
Brian smiled. “Fitz said nearly the same thing.”
Too late, Gigi realized she’d revealed details that even someone of Esmeralda’s “acquaintance” should have no way of knowing. Unless she’d been given a tour backstage by, oh say, a potential investor wanting to impress his future fiancée?
What have I done?
Black tinged the edges of her vision. For a dangerous moment, she thought she might faint.
Her legs would have given out from under her if Fitz hadn’t wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close to his side. The move robbed her of thought, and all she could do was blink up at him.
For a second, she got lost in his gaze.
He seemed equally unable to look away.
“Well, well. You lucky sap.” Brian clasped Fitz on the shoulder. “Now I understand why you want to purchase the Summer Garden Theater. It’s to be a present for your future bride.”
“Perhaps.” Fitz’s smile remained in place, but Gigi saw the strain at the edges. “I wished it to be a surprise.”
“Right, right.” Brian dropped his hand, grinned. “About time you made it official.”
Luke found his voice. “Made what official?”
“Their engagement. It’s been rumored for years. To be honest, I thought you’d never get up the courage to ask her. Well done, my friend.” Brian slugged Fitz good-naturedly in the arm. “Well done.”
“You’re . . . engaged?” Luke’s tone was understandably incredulous.
Gigi attempted to speak, but words simply wouldn’t form in her mind.
“It’s new,” she heard Fitz say.
She glanced up at him. He gave her a meaningful look that said, Don’t utter a word. Let me handle this.
“Our families don’t even know.” Eyes never leaving her face, Fitz dropped a brief, achingly tender kiss to Gigi’s forehead. “We want to wait to tell them until after her sister’s wedding.”
Brian aimed a beaming smile at Gigi. “Mum’s the word.”
“We appreciate your silence,” she said in a small voice.
“Well,” Elizabeth whispered into Gigi’s ear. “That’s certainly one way to solve the problem.”
Chapter Twenty
Afraid he would make matters worse if he tried to talk his way out of the debacle he’d created in the Griffins’ parlor, Fitz left Gigi in her friend’s capable hands and returned to his room in the Waldorf-Astoria. He’d done what he could to ensure Brian’s silence.
There would be plenty of time to repair the damage. He would seek out Gigi and discuss their next step later tonight or first thing in the morning.
For now, Fitz needed to think. To do that properly, he needed privacy.
He slammed the door behind him with a bang and yanked open the top drawer of the small writing desk.
With swift flicks of his wrist, he laid out several sheets of paper on the desk and began reviewing the notes he’d scribbled after each consultation with the medical experts.
Now, with his future at stake, Fitz searched for something, anything, to give him hope. He’d asked each of the doctors if his father’s condition was hereditary. None had been definitive in their answer, but not a single one of the four had ruled out the possibility, either.
The last of the four physicians had been the most optimistic. The man had at least three patients with symptoms similar to Calvin Fitzpatrick’s who were also the first in their families to contract the brain disease.
Fitz continued searching for evidence that would allow him to go forth with the plan formulating in his mind. He would need to return to Boston immediately. The sooner he left New York, the sooner he could return and make things right with Gigi.
His future happiness hinged on incomplete medical research. He’d made risky investments before. Was this just another leap of faith?
He shut his eyes and prayed. Lord, show me the way. Give me a spark of hope, just one; that’s all I need.
He reviewed his notes on brain diseases again, losing himself in the process, managing to focus for fifteen uninterrupted minutes before his thoughts wandered back to the parlor in Luke’s town house.
And to the moment he’d all but declared Gigi as his fiancée.
What had he been thinking? Telling Brian Chesterfield that he and Gigi were engaged? He’d added to her family’s lie, embellishing a shared past that had only been real for him.
Why hadn’t Gigi stopped him? If only she’d said something. Her silence had sealed her doom.
Fitz wanted to claim her for his wife.
The tender kiss he’d pressed to her forehead had been out of reflex, not for show. And the look in her eyes when he’d pulled her close had not been revulsion, far from it. The way she’d stared up at him, with trust and gratitude and something more, had made him want to conquer the world, slay her every dragon, and keep her close by his side, forever. She’d made him believe.
Fitz would no
t saddle Gigi with a lifetime of misery for the sake of his own happiness.
Find a solution, he told himself.
He returned his attention to his notes, bending over to study them with squinted eyes. He wanted to make his words true, hence this desperate attempt to find some piece of surety that he could have a future with her. But there simply wasn’t enough research; there was no concrete proof that Fitz wouldn’t end up just like his father. The risk of contracting the brain disease would always loom on the horizon.
The prognosis was bleak. He felt a happy future with Gigi slipping away like water through splayed fingers.
Reading through his notes one more time, just one more time, he searched for something he’d missed. A tentative knock jolted him upright from the desk. His heart gave a few thick beats in his chest.
He crossed the sitting room and opened the door with a yank.
Gigi stood in the hallway, head high, spine erect, chin at a perfect ninety-degree angle with the floor.
At the sight of her, Fitz went hot all over. His brain was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t decipher the message. Gigi was the same woman she’d always been. Yet . . . not.
The last few hours in the company of her trusted friend had produced a remarkable transformation. Her cheeks had gained color. Her eyes sparkled.
The effect was devastating. Disconcerting.
Any words of greeting vanished from his mind.
“Are you going to just stand there staring at me?”
“Gigi, I . . .” His brain emptied. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I realize that. The look of horror gave you away. But I thought we should discuss how to proceed, now that we are, that is”—her lips curved in a sad smile—“now that Brian Chesterfield believes us engaged.”
“You’re right, of course. Come in.” He stepped aside to let her pass.
Her scent hit him, hard, tearing his resolve to shreds. Tell her how you feel. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She sighed. “You have put us in an impossible situation. The news of our engagement will surely reach our families.”
Would that be such a bad thing? Fitz didn’t have a definitive answer. “Brian will keep silent until after your sister’s wedding.”
“You can’t know that.”
“He doesn’t plan to return to Boston for months. And he’s not the kind to write home.”
She angled her head. “You know this for certain?”
“He told me after we left the town house together.” Fitz had followed the man out, and on the way to their individual hotels, he’d pumped Brian for information about his future plans.
“You trust his word?”
“Implicitly.”
Instead of calming, she seemed to grow more agitated.
Fitz hated seeing her upset. Especially knowing he was the cause.
“Don’t worry, Gigi.” He reached to her, took both her hands, and pulled her close. He wanted to kiss her. Mine. No other man could have her. The urge to claim her was primitive and nearly brought him to his knees.
He should not be touching her.
He’d done enough damage.
Reluctantly, he set her away from him. “I have a plan to make this right.”
“What sort of . . . plan?”
“A good one.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know if I can believe you. You’re being awfully vague.”
“Hear me out. That’s all I ask.”
Seven seconds of silence passed. Fitz counted each one in his head.
At last, she relented. “All right. Tell me what you have in mind.”
Fitz took Gigi’s cloak and showed her to a chair beneath a pool of soft, golden light cast by a tall lamp. The setting was too intimate, too personal, with an inviting mood that put Gigi in mind of quiet nights at home with loved ones.
Oh, this is bad, she thought, staring up at Fitz’s lean, aristocratic face. His strong sculpted mouth was beautiful in the weak tendrils of lamplight. The tender expression in his remarkable green eyes called to her, making her want to believe he would take care of matters.
He smiled at her then, his eyes turning serious and full of intent.
Oh, Fitz.
She knew what that look meant.
He was going to propose to her, formally, for all the wrong reasons.
Why did he have to be so noble?
Why did he have to be so . . . good? Where was the distant, unfeeling man he’d been in the carriage yesterday? At least she knew what to expect with that particular Fitz. This one? She was at a loss. And her heart was too full of hope to think clearly.
Ever since he’d declared them engaged, Gigi’s mind had traveled down countless roads, all of them leading to the same destination. Marriage to Fitz. A houseful of children. Growing old together.
Gigi wasn’t sure they could be happy, though, at least not for any length of time. Fitz didn’t trust her with his secrets. He might be full of acceptance at the moment, but he would withdraw from her eventually. Especially once he’d fully reflected on the kind of woman he married. She was flawed and broken, ruined in every sense of the word. No amount of serving others would absolve her from her past. No amount of saying she was sorry could erase the harm she’d caused.
Worse still, they would always live in fear of discovery. Lies would have to keep the world from knowing what she’d done. Fitz would grow tired of keeping her secrets. And then he would grow to regret marrying her. Regret would turn into resentment. And . . . no.
Gigi couldn’t bear to watch him grow cold and detached again. For his sake, she should refuse his offer of marriage. She should give him no chance to ask the question. It was the one thing she could do for him.
And yet, she found herself saying, “Let’s hear your plan.”
“We tell our families we’re engaged.”
Something wonderful filled her heart. “Are you saying you want to marry me?”
“Forgive me.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I’m making a hash of this. I’ve spent the last thirty minutes reviewing a series of . . . calculations, and my mind is still half on the pages.”
His confession softened her guard, and Gigi found herself feeling a moment of deep affection for this man. How desperately she wanted to marry him.
“My father is much the same way.” She found the similarity endearing, which made her more than a little homesick and determined to mend all her relationships. “After a long day of reviewing contracts, my mother claims he is the worst conversationalist imaginable.”
“Then you understand.”
“Completely.” A horrible, awful spark of hope ignited. Perhaps they could be together. Perhaps Fitz wouldn’t grow to despise her. Perhaps they could make a go of marriage.
Stop lying to yourself, Gigi.
“I don’t think it’s wise to enter a pretend engagement,” she said, mostly for herself. “We both know what comes from lying.”
“Let me finish spelling out my plan.”
What more could he possibly have to say?
“We’ll keep the story simple and stick as close to the truth as possible.” He relaxed into a smile, the one she loved, the one he reserved just for her. “I came to meet you in New York and we fell in love.”
Those four words, we fell in love, touched the deepest chambers of her heart. A sob rose in her throat. She would remember this moment forever. She would tuck the memory in a quiet corner of her heart, along with images of Fitz looking at her with tenderness, affection. Love.
Hope tried to get the better of her. She ruthlessly battled it back. “You know that won’t be enough for my father.”
“We’ll tell him more, of course.” He smiled, though a hint of regret showed in his eyes. “I’ll admit that I’ve been searching for you since you disappeared, which happens to be the truth. Then, when I got word you were in New York, I came to fetch you and bring you home.”
Gigi pressed her fingertips to her temples
and rubbed. “You are missing one key component in your story. What will we tell my father about the pearls?”
“I’ll leave that portion of the story up to you.” He gave her a sweet smile. She saw no judgment in him, only the solid support he’d shown when she’d admitted the truth, which somehow made her feel worse. “Whatever you decide to tell your father, I won’t contradict you.”
Oh, Fitz. “I won’t ask you to lie for me.”
But, of course, he would have to lie for her. He’d already done so with Brian Chesterfield.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. We’re in this together, Gigi. We stand as one.”
How long she’d waited for him to say those words, longer than she’d realized.
“I won’t abandon you.” The sincerity in his promise stole her breath. Gigi wasn’t sure she could love Fitz any more than she did at this moment.
Perhaps there was a chance for them after all.
“Of course, we won’t stay engaged for long.”
And there it was. The end of all hope.
She would not cry. She would not cry.
She. Would. Not. Cry.
“What reason will we give for our”—she choked back a sob—“change of mind?”
“Not our change of mind, yours.” He hit her with the full force of his stare. “We’ll say you broke off the engagement because I proved to be as coldhearted as everyone claims.”
She looked at him blankly, absently noting how the lighting in the room emphasized the nearly blue-black of his hair. “But it’s not true. When you let down your guard, you are kind and compassionate and—”
“I insist you walk away from this free and clear, Gigi. A fresh start, that’s what I wish for you.” His tone was both gentle and firm.
“Your reputation will suffer.”
“Hang my reputation.”
The monumental sacrifice he was willing to make on her behalf was staggering. “We must share the blame.”
“No, Gigi. You must be the injured party. I insist upon it.”
There he went, being noble again. Knowing that he would risk his reputation for hers gave her the courage to say, “If I refuse to go along with this plan of yours, what then?”
He said nothing.