The Lady Who Saw Too Much. Thomasine Rappold
head ached from the pressure of it all. Lack of sleep didn’t help. For the briefest of moments, she longed for the opiates and the temporary diversion from the enormous responsibility her prophetic vision had dumped in her lap. What have I gotten myself into?
She flung aside the covers and proceeded to dress for breakfast. After almost two weeks here, Gia barely saw the man, but each moment in his presence was torture. And in more ways than she’d imagined. Despite the man’s irritating arrogance, Gia felt drawn to him. The admission frightened her, and she did her best to shake free of her bizarre attraction to this total stranger.
She made her way downstairs, past a harried housemaid carrying a tall stack of linens. Rounding the corner, she walked down the wide hall toward the dining room. She nodded to two more housemaids who were busy polishing the woodwork and floors. Following the aroma of bacon, Gia entered the dining room to find Alice alone at the long table. She exhaled in relief that Landen was nowhere in sight.
“Good morning, Alice,” she said, taking a seat at one of the awaiting place settings.
Alice straightened, shoulders stiff. “Good morning.”
Gia poured a cup of coffee and helped herself to the large plate of bacon on the table. The unmistakable sound of Landen’s voice carried from outside the room. Gia froze in the midst of spreading jam on a biscuit.
His voice grew louder, and another housemaid scurried past the arched doorway.
“Aunt Clara arrives tomorrow,” Alice said to explain the commotion. “Denny is wasting his time. No matter how tidy the house or sparkling the crystal, she’ll find fault in it, anyway.”
“Your aunt?”
“She’s a domineering old shrew,” Alice said. “But Beatrice is worse.”
“Beatrice?”
“Her long-suffering friend.”
“Misery enjoys company, they say.”
With a nod, Alice retreated to her eggs, taking refuge, once again, inside a shelter of silence. Gia frowned. Alice’s timidity made Gia miss the spirited young girls at the female seminary. Luring this girl from her shell might prove as challenging a task for Gia as changing the outcome of her vision.
Turning her focus toward the direction in which she’d been hired, she said, “Your brother has finalized the guest list for the garden party.”
“How many?” Alice asked in a tone that said she dreaded the answer.
“Including your aunt and her friend, we’ll total twenty,” Gia said. “Shall we write the invitations and send them for delivery before Mrs. March arrives to fit our new gowns?”
Alice shrugged.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Gia wiped her mouth, then set down the napkin. “We can work outside on the patio.”
After breakfast, Alice followed Gia outside. Bright sunshine warmed the quiet spot, and the smell of dewy plants and shrubs filled the breeze.
“If we relocate those potted ferns, we can set up tables there,” Gia said, pointing.
Alice glanced up, then gave a quick nod. She stood, arms crossed, staring down at the ground. Her anxiety was unnerving. Irritating. After all the time they’d spent together, Gia’s patience was running thin.
“For goodness’ sake, Alice. It’s just us two and the daisies. You needn’t be so tense,” she snapped.
Alice gaped. “Easy for you to say,” she snapped back. “You have no idea what it’s like.”
Gia sighed. “What is it like?” she asked as she sat on the bench. She looked up at Alice’s pretty face, which was now marred in pain. “Help me understand.”
Alice lowered her gaze. “I hate parties. And people. They stare.”
“Stare?”
Alice hugged her arms tighter. “I feel their eyes on me, watching me. I hate it.”
“You’re a pretty girl, Alice. Even so, I think you exaggerate their interest.”
Alice shook her head.
“Unless the neckline of your gown is exposing your bosom or you’re dancing with one of your potted plants on your head, people probably aren’t focused on you any more than anyone else.”
Alice glanced up.
“It’s been my experience that people are too self-involved to squander time studying others so diligently. Especially when there’s food to be had and music to be enjoyed. And even assuming that what you believe is true, and people are watching you, what do you imagine is the worst that can happen?”
“I could make a fool of myself.”
“How exactly?”
“I could do something stupid. Say something stupid.”
Gia nodded. “And the guests would then toss you, kicking and screaming, into the lake?”
Alice frowned. “Of course not.”
“What, then, would ensue if you said something stupid?”
“I don’t know, Miss York, and I don’t intend to find out.”
“Please call me Gia,” she reminded the girl for twentieth time.
Alice huffed. “I don’t intend to find out. Gia.”
“And why don’t you intend to find out?”
“Because,” Alice fired back.
“Because anything you have to say is stupid?” Gia asked. “Or because you are stupid?”
Alice’s eyes flashed wide. “I am not stupid!”
“I know that.” Gia smiled. “And I’m glad to hear that you know it too.”
Alice shook her head in defeat. “When I’m among people, my heart pounds and my palms sweat. Oftentimes I feel as though I might faint.”
Gia sighed. “Have you? Fainted, I mean?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s something to keep in mind. You’ve survived crowds before. No matter how nervous you are, you must remember that soggy gloves will not cause you to faint.”
Alice considered this. “It’s still dreadful.”
“Well, I promise to do my best to make it less dreadful for you.” She smiled. “I’ve a feeling the two of us will have a fine time together.”
Alice shook her head. “Please don’t relay that prediction to my brother. A companion was his idea, and I simply couldn’t bear it if he were right.”
Gia laughed. “Very well then,” she said. “Let’s start on the invitations.”
* * * *
After a productive day of party planning and dress fittings, Alice and Gia shared another quiet dinner that evening. According to Alice, Landen was having dinner in town with the Widow Filkins. Again. Gia was curious about his relationship with the widow, but refrained from inquiring about her. It wasn’t Gia’s business, and it definitely wasn’t her place. Even so, Gia looked forward to the garden party and meeting the woman with whom Landen spent so much of his time. He’d listed Charlotte Filkins’ name at the top of the guest list, which confirmed her significance.
After dinner, Alice retired to her room to read. Gia sat in her own room, attempting to do the same, but failing miserably.
Her thoughts kept returning to her vision. Possibilities of what might lead to Landen’s death played through her mind, yet none of her imagined scenarios seemed plausible. From what little time she’d spent with him, she knew he was smart, physically fit, and seemed too in control to succumb