The Lady Who Saw Too Much (7 page)

“As you can see, my aunt is eager to bask in the triumph of publicly securing my noose.” He turned to Gia. “Your triumph.”

Gia swallowed hard, fearing she might never acclimate to the loathing in his eyes. Or the strong desire he stirred in her blood.

“If I may have your attention, everyone,” Clara said. “I have an announcement to make.”

The crowd quieted beneath Clara’s request. “Thank you all for coming today. My husband Howard and I have always held a deep fondness for Misty Lake.” Clara pressed a gloved hand to her chest. “Some of the happiest days of my life were spent here, with my family, amid the splendor of the lake and the mountains, and returning each summer to those cherished memories fills my heart with such joy. As does my exciting announcement,” she said, eyes aglow. “It brings me enormous pleasure to announce the engagement of my nephew, Landen, to Miss Gianna York.”

The party lapsed into silence. Stunned faces gaped at the couple as Clara gave her surprised guests a moment to absorb the news before continuing. “Please join me in congratulating them on this joyous occasion.”

Everyone applauded, and to Gia’s surprise, Landen bent to kiss her on the cheek. The brief press of his lips on her flesh lingered long after he turned away from her and into the crowd of well-wishers that surrounded them.

When the din of the excitement faded, Landen left her with the women while he joined the men for a drink. From the corner of her eye, Gia spotted Charlotte Filkins strolling toward her. The dreary-brown mourning color of her gown did nothing to detract from her loveliness. Sunlight glimmered on her auburn hair. Charlotte’s smile faltered as the two women chatting with Gia excused themselves quickly and hurried away. Their abrupt departure left Gia standing awkwardly alone and unsure of what to say.

“My name is Charlotte Filkins, Miss York. I hope you don’t mind my introducing myself, but I feared growing old before Denny got an opportunity to do so.”

Gia’s cheeks flushed at the confirmation Charlotte knew Landen intimately enough to call him by the name his family did. “Of course not,” she said. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

“I wish you and Denny all the happiness in the world.” Charlotte’s brief smile was weighted with sorrow. She tossed a forlorn glance toward Landen, and Gia all but felt the woman’s heart splintering to pieces.

From across the patio, Landen was watching their exchange, looking as miserable as Charlotte. Gia’s status as interloper had never felt as painfully strong as in that moment. Her insides twisted into knots at the fear she was altering the fate of these lovers—interfering with something that was supposed to be.

Charlotte recovered quickly, reclaiming her charm. “He’s a fine man.”

Gia couldn’t help herself. “You care for him.”

Charlotte tilted her head, her defensive expression softening. “Very much.” She lifted her chin. “But I shall get over it.”

With those simple words, Charlotte started away, but the strain in her voice left Gia doubting this would be quite so easy.

Alice worked like an artist, face set in concentration, as she applied the finishing touches to Gia’s hair. She stepped back from the dressing table, admiring her handiwork. “Finished,” she declared in a rare tone of pride.

Gia gazed at her reflection in the mirror in front of them. Shimmering pins secured each perfectly arranged tress in place. She turned her head from side to side. A long lace veil hung from the garland of orange blossoms encircling the intricate twists of hair piled at her crown. She looked like a princess. She looked like…a bride.

The memory of the dream she’d had before leaving Boston waltzed into her head. A haunting sadness followed. During the darkest hours of her excruciating recovery, from the tatters of her unraveling life, a beautiful dream had been woven.

Perhaps it wasn’t merely a dream but a vision. She’d been so addled from the opiates she couldn’t be sure. But as vivid as it was vague, the dream had ensconced her in warmth, and she’d wrapped herself in the hope it had provided when she’d needed it most.

A maelstrom of emotions welled inside her, spewing forth in a rush of uncontrollable tears she couldn’t contain.

“You don’t like it?” Alice asked, clearly alarmed.

Gia blinked, wiping furiously at her eyes. “I do,” she said, trying hard to compose herself. “Forgive me, Alice. I’m just being foolish.” She forced a smile through her tears. “This is not how I pictured my wedding day.”

Alice tilted her head, regarding Gia in the mirror. “I suppose not.” The pity in her eyes made Gia feel worse.

“May I tell you something silly?”

Alice stepped to Gia’s side to face her directly.

“Before I left Boston, I had a dream. One of those dreams that make you so happy you’re disappointed when you wake up.”

Alice nodded. “What was your dream?”

“I stood on a hill, watching the sunset. With a man.”

Alice set down the brush, her lips pursed tight. “You’ve forced my brother into this marriage, so please forgive me for not sympathizing with you for your last-minute regrets.”

Gia lowered her eyes, abashed. “You are right, Alice,” she said. “I’ve made my bed. I know that.” Feeling a fool for seeking comfort from the girl, she willed back her tears and shook off the stinging rebuff. Several awkward moments passed before Alice spoke again.

“So, who was he?”

Gia glanced up, surprised. Alice regarded her with more curiosity than judgment, and Gia inhaled a small breath of relief.

“That’s what’s so silly,” Gia said. “I don’t know. All I know is the love that filled my heart as I stared down at our interlaced hands felt so wonderful. So real.” She shook her head. “So much so, I can’t help wondering if he’s out there somewhere. This mysterious man who leaned on a cane and made me feel loved.”

Alice cast her gaze to the floor.

Gia couldn’t blame her for her awkward response. In light of Landen’s contempt for Gia, hearing the words out loud sounded pathetic to her own ears.

“I told you it was silly.”

Alice shook her head. “It’s not silly at all.” Not a hint of reproach marred the girl’s face. Alice had the makings of a true friend, and Gia’s heart swelled with growing fondness for her future sister-in-law. “It was a beautiful dream.” She reached for a handkerchief and dabbed at Gia’s tears. “That’s why it’s so difficult to let it go.”

The dream was the only good thing Gia had left home with. She’d tried so often to finish the dream, to return to it—to him. With a heavy heart, she endeavored to put it aside, but she’d never discard it.

The door flew open, and the sound of Clara’s voice flooded the room. “See to it the champagne is properly chilled, and the flutes are sparkling,” she said to the harried maid she left in the hall as she swished into the room.

Dressed to the nines, Clara looked radiant. Despite her seventy-plus years, her energy was relentless. As was her attention to detail. For the past week, the stout woman had barreled through the house like a loaded cannon, firing preparation orders at every turn. Get this, get that, do this, do that. And everyone from the gardener who’d trimmed the hedges to the pastor, who would perform the ceremony, had scurried to accommodate, including Landen, which had surprised Gia the most.

“I have something for you, Gianna,” Clara said, her face aglow with excitement. She opened the small box in her hand, then placed it on the dressing table in front of Gia.

Gia glanced down at the cameo nestled inside the velvet-lined box. “It’s lovely.”

Clara puffed her ample chest. “That broach has been in the family for generations. Every woman in the Elmsworth family has worn it during her wedding ceremony.”

“My mother wore this?” Alice asked, leaning in for a closer look.

“Yes, of course,” Clara said. “Landen’s mother wore it as well. God rest her pitiful soul,” she muttered with a shake of her head.

The grim comment piqued Gia’s interest in the story of Landen’s mother. Something told her there was an intriguing tale to be told, but Clara’s solemn expression during the heavy silence that followed deflated Gia’s urge to prompt for more.

“It’s tradition to wear something borrowed for good luck,” Clara said with a renewed lilt in her voice. She patted Gia’s shoulder. “I’ve a feeling you’ll need it.” She started from the room. “Come, Alice. I need you to help me with my rhinestone headpiece.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “One might think she were the bride.”

Gia smiled, nodding in agreement. “Thank you for helping me get ready, Alice.”

“You’re welcome.” Alice kissed Gia’s cheek and then hurried after her aunt, who’d rushed off at lightning speed.

Lifting the cameo carefully from its velvet bed, Gia caressed her thumb over the regal profile of aged ivory. It was a lovely piece, made more priceless by its history. A history she was about to become a part of. Clara’s surprising comment about Landen’s mother echoed in her head.

Gia would enter this family dragging a dark past with her, but she’d been so engrossed in hiding her secrets it hadn’t occurred to her that the Elmsworths might have a few secrets of their own.

She opened the clasp to pin the broach to her collar. The sudden heat in her palm signaled a warning. Her flesh prickled. Her breath hitched. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the unstoppable force, as the vision emerged from the darkness, sucking her in.

The smell of bourbon filled her nose. The air became stiflingly hot. Clara lay in bed, her face deathly white against her disheveled gray hair. Clutching the sheets, she moaned, writhing in pain. Her eyes bulged with fear.

With a gasp, Gia opened her eyes. Blood pulsed at her temples. Slumping back in the chair, she sank against the crush of her veil behind her, too drained to move. She unfurled her clenched fist, staring down at the cameo in her palm until her racing pulse slowed.

Still trembling with the dread the image had induced, she shot to her feet. She paced the room, trying to gather her wits. Somehow she had to warn Clara. But how? How could she possibly warn the woman about something that would happen—something she had no logical explanation for knowing? She pictured herself, kicking and screaming, as Landen carted her off to the asylum.

She paced faster, skirts swaying over the hoops beneath. Lost as to what she should do, she knew she had to see Clara. While she had no idea what she’d say, perhaps something would come to her.

She hurried to Clara’s room, where she found her alone, still fussing with the fancy headpiece sparkling on her head. “What do you need, Gianna?” she asked as she primped in the mirror.

Gia’s eyes fixed on the bed. Recognizing the massive carved headboard as the one in her vision, Gia scrambled for words, her mind reeling. “Clara, are you feeling all right?”

“My nephew is finally getting married,” Clara crowed to her own reflection. “I feel wonderful.” She narrowed her eyes and turned from the mirror. “Why do you ask?”

Gia fumbled for an adequate answer. “You’re pale.”

Clara frowned. “I’m old.” She gave a sharp fluff to her royal blue skirts. “But unlike Bea, I refuse to use my age as an excuse to dwell on every ache and pain.”

Gia stiffened. “So, you’re not feeling well?”

“I’m fine.” Her hands shot to her hips. “And I’m busy.”

“Too busy,” Gia offered. “With all the wedding preparations, you’ve had little time to rest.”

Clara waved her away. “I’ll get plenty of rest in Saratoga.”

Or she’d contract a terrible illness there. “Perhaps you should consider postponing the trip.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “Tonight is your wedding night. Since Landen refuses to take you on a proper honeymoon, you should at least be allowed the privacy of the house.” She pursed her lips in a disapproving manner that made Gia’s cheeks flush. “Not that privacy matters to the pair of you,” she muttered. “But Alice and I will depart after the wedding, never the less.” She slipped on her gloves. “Two days should suffice.”

Two entire days—alone—with Landen. The sudden shift in Gia’s focus could not be reined. Despite her trepidation about the upcoming night, an unbridled excitement coursed through her blood at the thought of sharing Landen’s bed. Her stomach lurched as her mind veered wildly with imagined scenarios. With the thought he might kiss her as he had that night in his room, touch her as he had. Heat flooded her face and swirled in her belly. She blinked hard, reclaiming her focus.

“But, Clara—”

“Enough, Gianna.” Clara took an impatient breath. “All brides are nervous on their wedding day.” She clasped Gia’s hands in hers, and Gia appreciated her attempt to put her at ease. “There’s no knot so tight as the bond of marriage.” Clara let go of Gia’s hands and spun away. “But we all manage to survive.”

So much for gentle reassurance.

“Now stop dawdling, and go finish getting ready.”

Biting back the urge to blurt out everything, Gia did as directed. At the moment, she had no other choice. Trying to explain the vision would be fruitless, especially now, when Clara’s attention was so otherwise engaged. The highly anticipated marriage of her nephew would commence come hell or high water, and nothing anyone could say would distract the woman from seeing Landen’s wedding went off without a hitch.

Once back in her room, Gia contemplated what she might do. Picking up the cameo, she held it tightly, trying to prompt another vision that might determine Clara’s fate. When nothing happened, Gia pinned the piece to her collar and tried to force her fears from her mind.

Clara seemed fit as a fiddle. While Gia’s vision had offered no inkling as to when the woman would fall ill, the bed in the vision told her she’d fall ill in this house. This detail, when coupled with the current sound state of Clara’s health, led Gia to conclude that Clara was safe for the time being.

Gia had to believe this if she hoped to get through this day. Once Clara returned from Saratoga, Gia would keep a keen eye on her. In the midst of placating herself with this reasoning, she heard a knock on the door.

“The pastor has arrived,” Alice said as she peeked into the room. “Everyone is ready.”