She drew her mouth abruptly from his, panting for air. Her lips were parted and dewy and so irresistible he had to have more. “Gia,” he uttered.
Her eyes sparked with yearning at his use of her name. His chest swelled with the conquest, along with parts down below. He bent toward her but she stepped back, blinking hard.
“I…” She shook her head, struggling for words, a dazed expression on her face. Wrapping her arms across her breasts, she stared at him like a frightened child, so unlike the woman who’d kissed him with such passion only moments before.
She’d engaged him in a dangerous game but hadn’t the nerve to continue. He, on the other hand, was ready to play through to the end. The chill of disappointment helped him reclaim his senses. Was soliciting danger her pastime? Whatever her game, he should have known better than to participate. The stakes were too high, and nothing was worth risking his freedom. But looking at her now, her hair all disheveled, her eyes shining in the moonlight, he could almost forget that. He took a long breath and gave a reluctant nod toward the door. “Go.”
Gathering the robe around her, she hurried for the door. He watched, aching to stop her, as she halted briefly to compose herself. She turned the knob hard, then flung open the door. The sound of a loud gasp filled the room.
Landen cringed at the source of the gasp outside the door.
Aunt Clara stood in the hall, mouth agape, hand clutching her chest. Beatrice stood next to her, on the verge of a swoon as she took in the sight of their state of undress. Two wide-eyed housemaids rounded the corner. The trunk they carried between them hit the floor hard. The loud thud echoed through the hall with the sound of their giggles. This wouldn’t be good.
He moved to shield Gia from the audience of stunned faces, but his half-naked stance did little to defend her or the shameful situation. Clutching the sheet at his waist, he took a step forward. “Aunt Clara.” He clenched the sheet in his fists to combat a curse for this stroke of bad luck and Gia’s obvious disgrace. “You’re early.”
His aunt stared at him, speechless. Her loss for words was a rarity, and despite the unfortunate circumstances, he couldn’t help the momentary surge of satisfaction her stunned silence brought him. As if sensing this, she narrowed her eyes, her pale face turning three shades of red. “No, my boy,” she said, shaking her head. “Unfortunately for you—and this girl—it appears I’m too late.”
* * * *
Pandemonium erupted, echoing through the hall. In the midst of the chaos, Gia made her escape, leaving Landen alone to defend against the squawking women who flapped around him like a pair of frantic hens. Gia bolted down the hall. He watched, resisting the impulse to chase after her and console her, to make it all right. But things were far from all right.
“Get that trunk to my room,” Aunt Clara snapped to the snickering maids. Shoving Landen back into his room, she followed after him. She slammed the door, leaving a sputtering Beatrice outside.
She strode to his discarded clothes on the floor. “At least have the decency to get dressed.” She tossed him his trousers, then turned her back as he put on his clothes. He was still buttoning his shirt when she spun to face him. “Sit.” She pointed to the bed.
Landen plopped to the mattress and prepared for her wrath. She paced slowly, ensuring ample time for him to stew in the juices of her latest disappointment.
“Had you taken my advice, you’d be married by now and well past such tawdry behavior,” she said.
“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of this opportunity to crow.”
Her face hardened. “Who is she?”
“Gianna York. The companion I hired for Alice.”
“Convenient.” She stared down at him in disgust. “You’re sleeping with the help.”
“No,” he said. “I kissed her, nothing more.”
She arched her brow skeptically. “Your restraint will be a great comfort to the Widow Filkins.”
He frowned at her sarcastic jab. He hadn’t slept with Charlotte Filkins in weeks, but that was none of his aunt’s business.
“The damage may be controlled,” she said. “We will send the girl away in the morning, and that will be that.”
His disappointment trumped reason, and he averted his eyes.
“If you’re questioning the necessity of this, let me remind you that the audience to your little encounter included two housemaids. The help loves to talk. The girl will be ruined by daybreak.”
He nodded, unable to dispute this point. “I’ll speak with her.”
“No!” She shook her head. “You’ve done quite enough. It’s obvious you can’t be trusted to be alone with her.”
Landen stiffened but held his tongue. No wonder Uncle Howard had died so young. Aunt Clara’s incessant jabs had prodded the poor bastard into an early grave.
“I will take care of it.” She straightened her spine, preparing for business. “Just as I always do,” she muttered before she marched out the door.
* * * *
With a deep breath, Gia answered the loud knock on the door. The old woman barreled into the room. She’d recovered from the shock of discovering Gia and Landen together and currently seemed well in control. Her stern expression articulated the severity of the situation before speaking a word. “I am Clara Elmsworth, Miss York. Landen’s aunt.” Her formidable tone demanded respect—the respect Gia had denied her earlier by behaving so scandalously in her presence. “You’re in very hot water.”
Gia nodded.
“It will be best for all involved if you left town immediately. I have several connections and will find you gainful employment elsewhere.” She narrowed her eyes. “I will also compensate you handsomely before your quiet departure.”
Gia turned from the woman, wringing her hands. She couldn’t leave. She had nothing. No one. Her desperate need to save Landen filled her with a swell of crazed panic. She had to stay. For him. For Alice. For Prudence and her brothers. Her visions came to her for a reason, and she’d been led here for that same reason. She was certain of it. She would not leave until she accomplished what she’d come here to do. No matter the cost.
But she needed this woman’s permission to stay. After what had transpired tonight, and Clara’s ensuing disdain, it would take drastic measures to get it.
“No.”
The woman’s shocked expression turned defiant. “Pardon me?”
“I can’t leave. Not yet.” Desperation prodded her onward. She forged through her fear and shame and guilt, well aware of the consequences. Fully knowing he would hate her. But at least he’d be alive. “I must stay for at least a month.” She touched her stomach. “To be sure.” She lowered her eyes, in part from the lie, in part for effect. “Once I’m certain all is well, I will go.”
“What…?” The woman’s face drained to white as she absorbed Gia’s meaning. Although Clara had likely assumed the worst all along, Gia’s open admission had undoubtedly stunned her.
“Are you telling me that you may be… That my nephew defiled you?”
Gia winced at hearing the words out loud, but said nothing to dispute them.
An earsplitting silence filled the room. Clara grasped Gia’s hand with surprising strength for a woman her age. “Come with me.”
* * * *