The Lady Who Saw Too Much. Thomasine Rappold
paid sufficiently.
“And it pays quite well,” Mrs. Amery added as if reading Gia’s thoughts. “The position must be filled immediately, so if you decide to accept, you must depart at once.”
“I’ll do it,” Gia said.
“Very well, then.” Mrs. Amery reached into the desk drawer. “The Elmsworths are expecting you tomorrow.” She handed Gia an envelope. “All the information is there. Along with travel expenses.”
Gia stood, feeling better. A quiet summer in the country would not be so bad. While she’d miss the girls here at the school, she was fortunate she’d have a roof over her head. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. “I’d better start packing.”
Mrs. Amery nodded. “I’m due at an appointment upstairs.” She plucked up a file as she rounded the desk. With a sympathetic smile, she patted Gia’s arm. “Good luck to you, my dear.” She hurried from the room, deserting Gia to the fate contained inside the envelope in her hand.
Blowing out a long breath, Gia opened the envelope. Fingering through the contents, she bypassed several crisp bills before slipping out a gold-embossed card. The fine parchment bespoke wealth and status as did the bold print. With her thumb, Gia traced the raised letters of the ornate script. Landen J. Elmsworth.
A chill of foreboding crept up her spine. The print shifted, fading slowly from focus before her blurry eyes. Her heart pounded. With a fortifying breath, she braced herself against the inevitable—and all that came with it. Fear and dread gave way to total helplessness as the vision emerged like a slow wave of nausea.
Closing her eyes, she sank to the chair. She clutched the parchment in her palm, the buzz in her ears growing louder, drawing her in. Brisk air filled her lungs. Gooseflesh formed on her skin. The smell of pine loomed amid tall trees and shadows. Entranced by the sound of babbling water, she waited as a picture took shape in the darkness.
A man lay at the bottom of a rocky creek, face down in the shallow water. His long black coat clung to his lifeless body. The crimson scarf around his neck drifted like a thick stream of blood on the mild current.
And then as insidiously as it had appeared, the vision was gone. Gia opened her eyes. Panting, she unfurled her trembling fist, then stared down at the crumpled card. She hadn’t experienced a vision so vivid in months. Nor one so ominous. Especially of someone she’d yet to meet.
She leaned back in the chair, still reeling. Visions of strangers came rarely but were no less disturbing. She shoved the card into the envelope and tried to stay calm. The thundering pulse at her temples refused to recede as each detail of the vision pelted her brain.
She remained seated for several long moments before attempting to stand. Rising on shaky legs, she composed herself. Exhaustion in the wake of the vision struck hard. She clutched the chair for support. She’d almost forgotten how draining it could be—it had been so long. Why this was happening now, after all this time, she didn’t know. But of one thing she was certain.
Landen J. Elmsworth, whoever he was, was going to die.
* * * *
Gia stared at the gable-roofed house, urging her feet to move. She dreaded meeting the man she’d seen dead in her vision, dreaded meeting his family. A part of her longed to ignore the vision, run miles in the opposite direction and try to forget it. While she was unsure if she could prevent her visions from becoming reality, she was determined to try. She had to.
The memory of Prudence Alber’s death pierced her chest like a dagger. Gia had stood idle, and a young girl had died. The heavy weight of her guilt kept her rooted in the gravel drive in front of the large house, too ensnared in the past to move. She took a deep breath, then stepped to the porch. She had to do something to make up for what she hadn’t done for Pru.
Somehow—some way—she would save Mr. Elmsworth.
Gia rang the bell. After announcing herself, she was led by a tall housemaid through the foyer and into a finely decorated parlor. “My name is Florence, Miss York. Please make yourself comfortable while I get Miss Elmsworth.”
Gia took a seat on the small settee, glancing around. The spacious room was styled to perfection with elegant furnishings and bright hues and only a hint of the musty smells so common in summer retreats. Outside the large windows, the lake sparkled amid mountains and trees, a scenic painting come to life.
There were several such lakes in the area. Were there as many creeks as well? Gia pushed from her mind the thought of her vision and the challenge ahead. She had to stay positive. A few moments later, Florence returned. A young woman followed demurely behind her.
“Miss York, this is Miss Alice Elmsworth.” Florence urged the girl forward.
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Alice,” Gia said. “May I call you Alice?”
Alice nodded, staring down at her shoes.
“I will bring tea,” Florence said.
Alice watched Florence exit the room. From her forlorn expression, Gia half expected the girl would follow. “She won’t be but a few minutes,” she uttered instead. She said nothing more as she took a seat across from Gia.
Beneath Alice’s clenched hands, her knees bounced with nervous tension. The timid creature appeared as though she wanted to be anywhere but in the presence of this stranger who’d been hired to be her companion. Gia sighed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable for causing the girl’s palpable distress.
Gia fidgeted in her seat, wondering how best to approach the situation. They waited for tea in excruciating silence until Gia could bear her own discomfort no longer. “May I ask how old you are, Alice?”
“I turned twenty in March,” she replied without looking up.
“I turned twenty in March, as well.”
Alice glanced up, and Gia smiled. “Six years ago.”
Alice smiled too. A brief little smile that came and went so quickly Gia almost missed it. Alice shifted in her seat, relaxing a bit, but the strain in her voice remained. “You attended the Troy Female Seminary?”
“That’s right. But I’m originally from Boston.” Gia worked in her mind the tale she’d concocted to explain her relocating to Troy. “After the death of my parents, I took up residence at the seminary,” Gia said, feeling guilty for the lie.
“My parents are deceased as well,” Alice said. She lowered her gaze to her lap, but not before Gia glimpsed the pain in her eyes.
If possible, Gia felt guiltier. She was also perplexed. So, Landen Elmsworth was not Alice’s father as Gia had presumed. Her uncle perhaps? Florence entered the room with a tea tray, and Gia was grateful for the distraction.
Alice and Gia drank their tea amid bits of conversation that consisted of little more than Gia’s questions and Alice’s yes or no answers. Although it was obvious the girl lacked the usual self-esteem that came naturally to most young women of her class, Gia sensed that a treasure trove of fine qualities lay buried beneath Alice’s severe anxiety. When she wasn’t avoiding eye contact by fidgeting with her hands or the folds of her skirts, her large blue eyes sparkled with wit and intelligence.
Unfortunately, the effort involved in exhuming these qualities would exhaust anyone attempting to draw them to the surface. Gia imagined the girl in a crowded ballroom. Alice would disappear into the wallpaper. Gia understood, now, why her family had resorted to hiring a companion. The security of having someone at her side might help build Alice’s confidence.
“Alice!”
A male voice boomed through the foyer.
“Alice!”
Alice straightened in her seat. “We’re in the parlor!”
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the room, and then he was there, posed in the doorway. Gia stared. The black coat, the dark hair. The wide shoulders. Was this him?