The Lady Who Saw Too Much (18 page)

Landen squinted against the sun. “Alex?” He slowed the horse, craning his neck for a better look. Smiling, he snapped the reins and turned the horse into the drive of the hotel. He hopped from the horse, greeting his brother with a bear hug.

“When did you get here?” Landen asked.

“Less than an hour ago.” Alex smiled. “It’s good to see you, Brother.” He slapped Landen on the shoulder. “How are Alice and Aunt Clara?” He waggled his brows. “Your wife?”

This last question was aimed to provoke some expected response, but Landen refused to be baited. He was too pleased by his brother’s arrival to be miffed at him already. There’d be plenty of time for that, as Landen was certain Alex’s incessant need to goad him hadn’t waned during the months since they’d parted.

“They’re all well. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing them too. Where are you headed?”

“I have business in town.”

“For a minute I was afraid Aunt Clara got wind of our early arrival and sent you here to deliver us straight to the house.”

Landen laughed. “You have the entire day to settle in. Though I must warn you, Aunt Clara wants Miss Richardson to stay with us at the house.”

Alex nodded. “I’m sure Sissy would prefer that as well. I’d better inform her of the change of plans before she finishes unpacking the tower of trunks piled in her room.” He shrugged. “She wants to make a good impression,” he said with a smile that made him look as young as a schoolboy. “Wait until you meet her.”

Landen could see in his brother’s eyes his adoration for Miss Richardson. Of course, Alex had displayed this same lovesick expression before. Several times with several women. A part of Landen admired Alex’s ability to live for the moment. To flit from one woman to the next like a bee buzzing through flowers in a garden. “We’ll see you tonight for supper, then,” Landen said, feigning interest in meeting Alex’s latest rose.

“Before you go, come meet Sissy’s cousin.” Alex pointed across the lawn to a blond-haired man seated between two women on one of the large chairs facing the lake.

Landen started with Alex down the stone path that led to the sparkling water.

“He’s a kindred spirit and the best of men,” Alex said.

Shrugging off the childish sting of Alex’s admiration for his new friend, Landen wondered, as he often did, why he and Alex weren’t closer. Something more substantial than the difference in their ages and mothers supported the wall that stood between them, Landen was certain of it.

Alex regarded Landen with equal parts of love and resentment, and try as he might, Landen failed to understand why. Perhaps Landen had been too hard on Alex after their father died, too autocratic. But Alex had been young and in need of direction, and Landen had done his best to step into his father’s shoes and provide his siblings with the solid guidance he’d felt they both needed. Whatever the reason for the underlying discord between them, Landen doubted this visit would change things.

“Kit, here’s my brother,” Alex called to the man.

Kit turned to face them. Although Kit appeared older than Alex, he possessed the same striking good looks that made women swoon. Landen suppressed a smile as he imagined the trouble the pair could get into if given the opportunity to carouse about town.

With a tip of his hat, Kit excused himself to the ladies, then started up the stone path.

A memory flashed like a bolt of lightning through Landen’s mind. He blinked, dumbstruck, absorbing the strange coincidence as the finely attired man made his way slowly toward them.

Alex stepped to Kit’s side, placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder. “Landen, this is Kit Richardson,” Alex said. “Sissy’s cousin and my good friend.”

Alex’s introduction droned on, but in his distraction, Landen barely heard him.

“It’s good to finally meet this rascal’s brother,” Kit said, displaying teeth as perfect as the other features of his face.

“And it’s good to meet you.” Despite feeling a fool for the preposterous thoughts roiling in his head, Landen couldn’t temper his shaky reaction. His gaze dropped, fixing on the walking cane in Kit’s hand. And suddenly Gia’s amusing dream about the man she’d hoped to marry no longer struck him as funny.

* * * *

Gia decided to go for a walk. After obsessing about the morning’s painful turn of events, she had to do something to keep from driving herself mad. She donned her most comfortable slippers, then headed out the back door in search of the creek Alice had told her ran through the woods along the estate.

Gia’s heart raced with her rampant thoughts. If Landen thought Gia would stand idly by while he continued his relationship with Charlotte, he had another think coming, and she planned on telling him as much the moment she saw him.

Her heart panged with the humiliating thought of demanding he honor their vows. Vows she’d forced him to declare. How could she expect honesty from him when she’d been so dishonest? He would, no doubt, remind her of this fact, and now that she loved him, his defense of his ongoing affair with Charlotte would be too much too bear.

She blinked back her tears. While this was not the life she’d ever imagined for herself, this was her life. She shook off her self-pity. At least she had a life. Her brothers weren’t so fortunate. Neither was Prudence. Lifting her chin, she charged toward the tree line in the distance.

Her imagination wreaked havoc on her as she walked. She swatted at a swarm of gnats as she entered the woods. What were Landen and Charlotte discussing right now at Sandy Cove? What were they doing? The scenarios weakened her resolve, and tears prickled her eyes once again.

If Gia stepped aside, the lovers could be together. The alternate option hit her like a slap to the face, but she had to consider it. She could still do what she’d come here to do—save his life—and then she could disappear. As she had when she’d fled Boston. Divorce was becoming more common, that was also an option. The only thing that was not an option was standing by and doing nothing to prevent Landen’s death.

She needed another vision. She had to locate the place where she’d seen Landen floating in the water, and she had to prove the culprit was, indeed, Mr. Whithers.

She walked for what seemed like miles along the bank of the creek. Since arriving in Misty Lake, she’d kept her eyes honed for the site of her vision. Now that she’d located the creek, she hoped she’d recognize the place when she saw it.

Her feet were beginning to ache. Still she walked. She kept thinking about Landen and Charlotte together, and her anger and hurt kept her feet moving. The path she tread grew steeper, her feet sorer, but still she walked and she walked.

And then she was there. She knew it instantly. The row of towering pines. The narrow trail that widened into a flat ledge high above the water. The old, gnarled tree. Her skin prickled. She stared down the embankment at the shallow water flowing over the bedrocks.

This was it—the place where Landen would die.

* * * *

Landen drove down the road, unable to loosen the tense knot in his gut. While Alex’s presence usually caused a subtle tension in Landen, it was meeting Kit Richardson that had him on edge. Kit Richardson, the man Alex worshipped and Landen’s wife had dreamt of marrying. Landen shook the absurd thought from his head. He was being childish and irrational, and he knew it.

Pushing thoughts of Kit from his mind, he rode through the arched wooden structure that marked the entrance to the park that led to Sandy Cove. After dismounting, he walked the horse down one of the several worn paths toward the bench where Charlotte waited. He glanced around the park at the other people picnicking on the lawn and strolling about, feeling guiltier with each step he took.

He bit back a curse and quickened his pace. If word got back to Gia about this meeting, she’d be hurt. And Landen did not want to hurt her. How different from when they’d first married and he’d wanted to do nothing but hurt her.

Deciding he’d tell Gia about the meeting upon his return, he tethered the horse, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“Good morning, Charlotte.” He took a seat next to her, assaulted by the strong smell of perfume.

Charlotte’s demure smile faded at the formality of his greeting. She filled the awkward moment by fluffing her burgundy skirts as he sat stiffly beside her.

“I know this must seem strange, my asking to see you, Denny, but I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, Charlotte? What’s wrong?”

She sighed, her forehead creasing with worry beneath the wide brim of her hat. “It’s my mother.”

“Is she ill?”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, nothing like that.” She fiddled with her gloved hands, acting as nervous as Alice did in a crowd. “She is very angry about your marriage to Gianna. I know it’s ridiculous that she harbors such a grudge, but she harbors one, nonetheless.”

Landen knew all about Maude and her grudges. Her smear campaign against Charlie Harding, the poor handyman she’d hired to paint her house in the city, had served as a lesson. When the color Maude had selected didn’t do her house ample justice, Charlie refused to repaint it for free. Maude had destroyed the man’s reputation and business, and all to avoid honoring a debt she could well afford to pay.

“What has she done?” Landen asked.

“She went to visit Mrs. Amery at the Female Seminary,” Charlotte said. “They are old friends, you see, from when I attended there as a girl.”

Landen stared at her, baffled. Mrs. Amery was the same woman who’d recommended Gia for the position of Alice’s companion. The same woman who’d assured Landen of Gia’s fine work at the school. “And?”

“And Mrs. Amery disclosed some information to my mother about Gianna. Information my mother was planning to divulge to anyone and everyone who might listen.”

Landen sighed.

“I’m sorry, Denny. Truly I am.”

Landen studied her face, sensing a small part of her was not sorry at all. Considering how abruptly he’d ended their relationship, he supposed he couldn’t blame her. “What information?”

“Before I tell you, I want you to rest assured that my mother will keep silent about what she’s learned.”

“Like hell she will.”

“She will.” Charlotte nodded furiously against the force of his doubt. “I can promise you that. I swore to her that if she told a soul, I would never speak to her again.” She glanced down at her hands on her lap. “And I meant it.”

His anger cooled as he gazed at her, not knowing what to say. “I appreciate that, Charlotte.”

She smiled a sad smile. “I would do anything for you, Denny. Surely you know that.”

He hadn’t, but he did now. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized the extent of her feelings for him. Or how badly he’d hurt her. His stabbing guilt thrust deeper. After the intimate relationship they’d shared, he could not even recall the taste of her kiss, let alone the heat of her body.

“I’m only telling you because I feel you should know.”

“So, tell me.”

“Gianna has not been truthful with you.”

He narrowed his eyes, growing angry again. “What do you mean?”

“Her parents are not dead as she claims.”

He inhaled sharply, shaking his head.

“They are alive and well and living in Boston.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Mrs. Amery has no reason to lie about such a thing. Gianna told her that she ran away. That she fled her home in Boston to escape her parents.”

He blinked. “Why? Why would she want to escape her parents?” He was angry as hell and taking it out on Charlotte, but he didn’t care.

Charlotte sighed, taking his hand between hers. His stomach sank like a rock at the solemn look in her eyes and his fear of her reluctant reply.

“Because they were about to have her committed to the asylum.”

Gia made the arduous ascent up the tall staircase, her feet aching. She entered the bedroom, hung her wrap, and then plopped into a chair. Wincing, she pried off her muddy slippers, massaging her cramped toes. She’d walked for miles and all she had to show for her effort were ruined slippers and blistered feet.

Try as she had to summon a vision at the creek, she’d experienced nothing. Not so much as a flash or a flicker of anything. As blood flow returned to her throbbing feet, she decided the trek still had been worth it. At least now she knew the place she must ensure Landen avoided at all costs.

Landen took morning rides on his tall black horse, but he usually rode through the fields. When he fished, he did so at the lake. She’d never known him to go walking through the woods and couldn’t imagine any plausible scenario in which he’d journey behind the estate to that secluded place high above the creek.

She wrapped herself inside the logic, but found little comfort in the flimsy reassurance. However improbable it might seem at this moment, Landen would somehow end up at the creek. And somehow, Gia had to stop him.

Her shoulders slumped beneath the weight of the impossible situation. Pushing her doubts from her mind, she dropped her foot to the floor, glancing at the clock on the mantel. Landen was still in town conducting his “business” with Charlotte.

Thoughts of the pair together consumed her. With each passing moment, Gia’s jealousy grew stronger. Fiercer. A monster she fed with every insecurity she’d ever had about herself.

Charlotte Filkins was a respected, proper lady, while Gia was a liar with a scandalous past. A freak of nature with a weakness for opiates and parents who were glad to be rid of her.

The disheartening comparison sunk her lower. She stiffened her shoulders, shaking off the painful summation of her character. There was no changing the past, and she didn’t have time to dwell in self-pity. Alex and his guests would be arriving in a few hours, and she still needed to bathe and dress for Landen’s birthday supper.

She froze at the sound of Landen’s distinctive footsteps outside the door. Shooting to her stocking-clad feet, she straightened her appearance, ready for battle. Although she couldn’t very well admit she’d read Charlotte’s message, Gia would pry from him the truth about his relationship with Charlotte, one way or another. She was his wife, and if nothing else, she deserved that much.