The Lady Who Saw Too Much (8 page)

Gia took a calming breath and followed Alice out the door. Landen stood in the hall at the bottom of the stairs. Her heart fluttered. Wearing a dark morning coat and gray cravat, he looked so handsome. And unhappy.

While she’d thought herself prepared to bear the burden of his misery in exchange for saving his life, looking at him now, shoulders slumped, head bowed in defeat, she wasn’t so sure. She preferred his anger to this. When he spotted her on the stairs and his eyes turned to blue ice, she welcomed his contempt and disdain like a pair of old friends.

He would never forgive her for ruining his life. The memory of Charlotte Filkins’s pained face flashed in her mind. She blinked it away and descended the stairs. With each careful step, she grew more conscious of the heavy hoops and petticoats beneath her full skirts. The beautiful lace and silk trappings were made heavier by her doubts and the sight of the stranger she’d wed.

She knew nothing about him. All she knew was his anger. The anger she’d caused by forcing him to this moment. And his kiss—the heat that burned in his eyes when stoked by desire. Anger and desire. Hardly the stuff upon which to build marriage.

The distance to her groom closed, and her heart pounded faster. To her pleasant surprise, Landen’s sharp frown eased as she neared. He straightened at attention, his features unmoving, except for his eyes. The flicker of heat in his gaze told her he liked what he saw. The deep swallow he took confirmed her suspicion.

Despite everything, he still wanted her. Her heart leapt. The thought sent her soaring. Not that she was so foolish as to hope he might ever love her. But if his desire for her could somehow thaw his glacial hatred, perhaps he might grow to tolerate her. Even care for her.

This hope blossomed as he stared at her, speechless. His lips parted as though he were about to speak. She stared up into his handsome face, waiting for some words of reassurance. Anything that might help her believe she wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

Instead, he offered only his arm when he said, “Let’s get this over with.”

An hour later Landen found himself married. To his surprise he felt no differently than he had before reciting his vows. The sky hadn’t come crashing down upon his head, and the world went on as if nothing had changed. And yet, nothing would ever be the same.

He felt so damn foolish. All these years he’d focused on securing the futures of his siblings. While Alice suffered from crippling shyness, Alex was afflicted with the condition of chronically falling in love. Landen had set his sights so firmly on the challenge of assuring they’d marry well, he’d never imagined, for one moment, he’d be the one entering into a dubious union.

Alex, especially, would appreciate this irony. Just last year, Landen had to intervene by talking Alex out of proposing marriage to a tavern maid, who was clearly after his money. Alex was currently in Syracuse and in love yet again. He’d written Landen of their plans to marry after Alex’s graduation, but Landen doubted the relationship would survive that long. Alex was bringing his fiancée to Misty Lake to meet the family, but even if Landen disapproved of the woman, there’d be little he could say. He had lost all credibility when it came to advising his brother on marriage matters, and whatever this woman’s circumstances, Alex was certain to throw this fact in Landen’s face.

He swallowed this bitter pill along with the last gulp of his second glass of champagne. Watching Gia from where he stood by the fireplace, he still couldn’t believe she was his wife. The champagne had loosened the tense knot in his stomach, and now he stood, merely numbed by his marriage to a woman whom he barely knew.

Gia sat in the corner of the room, Alice at her elbow. Despite everything, he had to credit Gia’s unwavering loyalty to Alice. She didn’t flit about, the center of attention, as most brides usually did. Rather, people flitted toward her. A damn flame drawing the doomed moths.

And draw them, she did. Men swarmed around her, as they had at the garden party, vying for the attention of Misty Lake’s newest beauty. All harboring the same admiration in their eyes. Aunt Clara and Alice had done a fine job with Gia’s bridal array. And he, the most foolish moth of them all, found it difficult to take his eyes off her.

Gia spoke something to Alice and then walked toward the table that held the punch bowl. She took a long sip from her glass, then headed outside to the patio. Craning his neck toward the window, he noticed she stood alone in a rare moment he could not pass up.

He crossed the room, then stepped out to the patio. Unaware of his approach, Gia stood at the stone wall, fiddling with the ring on her finger.

“My aunt insisted I purchase a ring.”

She stiffened in surprise but didn’t look up. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she uttered more to herself than to him.

The sincerity in her voice fell over him like a spell. He stiffened, shaking off the rush of satisfaction spurred by her approval. “As I said, my aunt insisted.”

That much was true. But his plan to purchase a simple gold band flew out the window the moment he’d spotted the yellow diamond ring in the jeweler’s glass case. For some inexplicable reason, he’d wanted Gia to have it. Not solely because he could afford it, but because it had reminded him of her. Vibrant and brilliant. Infinite facets, one upon the other, so blindingly beautiful. Yet hard enough to cut glass.

How easy it was to forget the dazzling gems were merely stones at their core. Despite the analogy, despite everything, he wanted this woman. His wife. Anger prickled inside him. Her citrus scent drifted toward him on the breeze. That damn dress, stark white and buttoned up to her ears. Knowing what hid beneath the frilly layers of her skirts only enticed him more. The unforgettable curve of her hips through the sheer night rail she’d worn to his room, the warmth of her body pressed to his, left him stalled in a memory he didn’t want to escape.

“A ring such as that one will be difficult to ignore,” he said. “I thought it a perfect reminder.”

“Reminder?”

“Every time you look at it, you’ll be reminded that you’re a married woman.”

She stared, perplexed. “You expect I might forget?”

“I expect a faithful wife.”

She bristled at his insinuation. If possible, the crimson flush of her cheeks made her prettier. She lifted her chin. “And may I expect the same faithfulness from my husband?” She crossed her arms. “Or shall I pose that question to Charlotte Filkins?”

She was too damn bold for her own good. He frowned, more because she’d caught him off guard. “Do not insult Charlotte in my presence.”

“Are you in love with her?”

He blinked, surprised, once again, by her boldness. And the unmistakable distress in her eyes. While the answer to her question was a resounding no, he found himself withholding any reply.

Gia shifted her weight. As a newly married woman, he could see how this might hurt her, and oh, how he wanted to hurt her. Marrying a man who did not love her was one thing—marrying a man who was in love with another woman was quite another.

She swallowed hard at his silence, averting her eyes. With a toss of her head, she recovered quickly. “Not that I care a whit. Feel free to carry on with whomever you like.”

He shook his head, smiling at her blunt retort. “While your permission is appreciated, you are my wife now, Gia. And as such, I promise I shall bestow all my carnal desires upon you.”

* * * *

Gia gritted her teeth, detesting him now as much as he so obviously detested her. Why on earth was she bothering to save the insufferable man’s life? Why on earth did she care?

Perhaps, she’d turn out to be the culprit responsible for his floating in the creek. The horrible thought shamed her, but she could not stop herself. The man vexed her beyond reason.

The damn smirk on his lips told her this was the reaction from her that he sought. To unnerve her with his endless reminders of the intimacies she was now expected to share with him. Resenting his attempt to exert some husbandly power over her, she refused to give him the satisfaction of playing into his hand.

Inhaling a quick breath, she met his smile with one of her own. Placing a firm hand on his arm, she rose to her toes. “I look forward to it,” she whispered into his ear before she strode away.

She glanced over her shoulder, enjoying his stunned expression as he watched after her. Somehow, that expression was worth lowering herself to his level. She hated to admit it, but rattling him was also great fun.

Once inside the house, she felt differently. Liar, wanton, manipulator. She had no idea who she was anymore. Her thoughts meandered to her parents. How shocked they would be if they knew she was married. More likely, they were well past caring. She had no doubt they were relieved to be rid of her. They’d proven this by not coming after her.

Gia shook away thoughts of the past. She should have held her tongue about Charlotte. Had the man any honorable feelings toward his former lover, he wouldn’t have kissed Gia the way he had in the first place. But nothing about Landen Elmsworth seemed honorable at the moment.

Gia turned toward the sound of giggling girls huddled in the foyer just outside the room. She listened for the sound of Alice’s voice, hoping she might be among them. To her chagrin, she heard something else.

“Alice Elmsworth is pretty enough, but she possesses the personality of a mouse,” one of the girls said. “I don’t think she’s uttered a word all day.”

“There’s nothing unnatural about that,” another girl replied. “Since mice can’t speak.”

They all laughed, and Gia’s temper rose to new heights. Had Alice happened upon this conversation, she’d be destroyed. Tears of anger burned Gia’s eyes. Alice was a sweet person, who would never hurt anyone. She deserved understanding for her social anxiety, not ridicule.

Gia charged into the foyer, hands on hips. “Or perhaps Alice has the good sense not to waste words on spiteful girls who have no manners,” she snapped. “Alice might be shy, but she’s also smart and generous, and kind. Any one of you would be lucky to call her a friend.”

The girls cringed, shamed by the reprimand. Their eyes widened like startled deer as they stared over Gia’s shoulders before bolting from the room. Gia turned to watch them scurry away, and saw Landen in the doorway.

She blinked back the remnants of her shaky emotions, lacking the stamina to deal with him now. “Excuse me,” she said, attempting to pass.

He caught her arm.

She froze, her heart still pounding in anger at the girls. If he said anything to rile her in her current state, she was certain she’d box his ears. She glanced up at him, ready to pounce, but the empathy on his face told her he’d overheard the exchange.

“Well done.”

Gratitude shined in his eyes, and she couldn’t look away.

“It’s time to cut the cake!” Clara called to them.

Gia blinked and started away. Landen caught up to her, and together, they made their way through the crowded room to the cake table. With Clara’s enthusiastic guidance, Gia cut the first piece of cake.

“Now pack this away,” Clara told Florence. “It’s to be enjoyed on their fifth anniversary.”

Everyone applauded. Five years… If only Gia could share their optimism. Presently, she couldn’t see past the next five days—could see nothing past her ominous visions of Landen and Clara.

The thought prompted Gia to make one last-ditch attempt to keep Clara home. After they enjoyed their cake, people began to depart. Clara seemed perfectly well, laughing and seeing off the guests.

Gia took this opportunity to seek out Landen. The man with whom he spoke excused himself with a smile as Gia approached.

“I wish to speak with you about your aunt,” she said.

“She’s your aunt now too.”

She sighed at the sarcastic reminder. “Yes, of course.”

“What is it you’d like to discuss?”

“I fear she’s overexerted herself this past week.”

“She’s a tough old bird.”

“Even so. Perhaps you could persuade her to postpone the trip to Saratoga until she’s adequately rested.”

Narrowing his eyes, he glanced toward his aunt, who was laughing heartily with the pastor. “She looks fine to me.”

“She looks very pale.” The lie got his attention.

His smug look faded. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Go see for yourself,” Gia said.

Landen turned from Gia, then strode to his aunt. Clara’s dismissive wave ended their brief conversation, and before Gia knew it, he was back at her side.

“She’s fine,” he said. “She’ll have a good soak in the baths at Saratoga. And we’ll proceed with our wedding night as planned.” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to it as well.”

* * * *

Florence helped Gia undress. Slipping into a light robe, Gia was grateful to finally be free of the suffocating skirts and undergarments now heaped on the bed.

“Mr. Elmsworth had me prepare a bath for you in his room,” Florence said.

Gia nodded. “Thank you.”

“He’s waiting,” Florence added when Gia made no attempt to move.

Gia fastened her robe securely, fingers trembling as she headed down the hall to Landen’s room. “Aunt Clara and Alice have left?” she asked as she stepped inside.

“They’re well on their way. Except for Florence, the house is ours.” He removed his coat and placed it over a chair. “Now stop stalling and come have your bath.”

Gia glanced at the steaming tub in front of the fireplace. “You needn’t have gone to the trouble. I bathed this morning.”

He smiled. “This bath is for my benefit, not yours.”

Her breath hitched, and she peered at the floor.

“Don’t be shy. We are husband and wife now.”

“Yes, I am aware,” she said as evenly as she could manage.

He sat, still fully clothed except for his coat, in a chair facing the tub. He waved his arm. “Proceed.”

She lifted her chin. His smug enjoyment of the power he thought he had over her was infuriating. Inhaling a deep breath, she resolved to thwart his control. She moved toward the tub. Slowly. Raising the hem of her robe, she lifted her foot over the rim of the tub, testing the temperature of the steaming water with her toes. She dangled her leg, her calf a pendulum, toes skimming the water. She shot him a glance to gauge his response. He watched, mesmerized, gripping the arms of the chair.