Chapter Nineteen
“What a spectacular piece of driving.” Luke climbed out of his motorcar and, goggles still in place, sauntered over to shake Fitz’s hand. “And may I remind you, gloating is rude and unseemly.”
Fitz accepted Luke’s congratulations with a self-satisfied grin. It had been a hard-won race, with Luke almost overtaking him at the finish line.
Almost, but not quite. “You’ll get me next time.”
“Count on it.”
Fitz laughed at the gruff promise. “You always were a fierce competitor.”
“Something we have in common.”
“Too true.” Barely able to see the other man through all the grime on his own goggles, Fitz shoved them to the back of his head.
Luke looked out over the track they’d raced around for the agreed-upon twelve laps. “I noticed how you chose the driving line and followed the same path each lap.”
“Actually, it took me a few trips around to pick the best route,” Fitz admitted, looking out over the muddy track, too. “I usually like to walk the course backward to figure out where I need to enter, travel through, and then exit a turn.”
“Not a bad idea.”
Fitz liked to take a slow-in, fast-out approach, which required a good understanding of the turn so he knew when to throttle and when to brake. “I thought if I did that today, I would show my hand.”
Luke smirked. “Clever, and proof you are more than a hobbyist. You drove through the corners like an expert.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Driving had become his sanctuary, an outlet from the stress of his father’s illness. “When it comes to investments, I do my homework.”
“Sure, let’s go with that.”
Smiling, Fitz ran his hand over the steering wheel, clutching the polished wood in the nine and three o’clock positions as he had in the race. “You’ve engineered a remarkable machine.”
“We have several more prototypes in production, including a six-cylinder engine, but the four-cylinder is the one I believe will take the company into the future.”
“We’re in agreement there.”
“Ah, here comes my chief engineer now.”
Luke motioned over to a man dressed in coveralls as dirty as the ones he and Fitz wore. But whereas Fitz’s and Luke’s were coated with mud from the racetrack, the engineer’s sported oil stains.
“I’ll let Dietrich explain our plans. I hired him away from a German automobile company and gave him autonomy to choose his team of engineers and mechanics. He poached them from across Europe, mostly England, since, on the whole, British designs are far superior to our American counterparts.”
Fitz’s research had told him the same thing. Two hours later, after touring the rest of the facilities, he had a good understanding of petroleum-powered engines and how they worked. Once the engineer went back to work, Luke took over the conversation, which turned out to be one of the best sales pitches Fitz had encountered in a long time, maybe ever.
“You do nothing by half measures,” Fitz said.
“A job worth doing is worth doing well.”
Fitz nodded. “What’s next?”
“As Jackson mentioned at the club, I’ve hired Brian Chesterfield to coordinate a series of races to increase Griffin Motors’ profile. We’ll invite automobile clubs from across the country to compete against our motorcars.”
“Thereby proving yours are the best in the world?”
“That’s the plan.” Luke’s grin was full of confidence. “I originally asked Brian to join us today, but he’s stuck in Manhattan until later this afternoon.”
Pity. Fitz would have relished hearing Brian’s thoughts. If Fitz remembered correctly, Luke had mentioned that Brian had been racing in Europe for several years now. His experience would make the inaugural Griffin Cup a success.
“If you’re available, Brian has agreed to meet us at my home around four o’clock.”
Fitz checked his watch. If he left Long Island within the next half hour, he would have just enough time to return to his hotel room for a much-needed bath and change of clothing. “I should be able to make that happen.”
“Excellent.” Luke gave Fitz his home address. “My wife is hosting a private luncheon, but the ladies should be gone by the time you arrive.”
As it turned out, one of the ladies was still at the Griffin home. That was how Fitz found himself standing in a parlor, on the second floor of Luke’s town house, staring at a familiar figure moving quickly toward the edge of the room.
It took precious few seconds to make the connection between Gigi and Luke’s wife. Fitz mentally filed through the private investigator’s report. Gigi had been Elizabeth Griffin’s lady’s maid and had obviously maintained a friendship since.
As always, she moved with a natural grace, like a delicate flower that had found a way to bloom in the dead of winter. She paused at a painting. Presenting her back to the room, she pretended grave interest in the artist’s handiwork.
The woman was intentionally avoiding him.
He couldn’t blame her. They hadn’t ended yesterday’s outing on the best of terms. Fitz had returned to his old ways, withdrawing into the safety of talking business. After several attempts to steer the conversation back to the personal, Gigi had given up trying and let him explain the intricacies of multi-cylinder engines.
He narrowed his eyes and angled his head. Something about her was different today.
Her hair. The stringy blonde ends were gone. Although her complicated hairstyle made it hard to tell how much of her hair she’d cut off, just that one simple change had completely altered her appearance.
A smiling Luke reacquainted Fitz with his pretty wife. “You remember Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, I do.” Fitz took her offered hand.
She glanced briefly at Gigi, then back to him. “What a pleasure to see you again and so soon after our last meeting.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Something thoughtful came and went in her eyes. “I believe you are also acquainted with my friend.”
She called out to Gigi. “Come say hello to Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
Unable to hide from him any longer, Gigi turned away from the painting and made her way over to him with reluctance in every step.
The moment she emerged from the shadows, Fitz’s heart kicked an extra-hard beat. He knew he was staring. How could he not?
Fitz could no longer ignore the truth. Gigi had worked her way past his defenses and brought light to the darkest portions of his soul. She made him think of forever, of happy endings and possibilities he’d thought out of his reach.
He wanted a future with her. The battle had been decided long before she’d run off.
She stopped in front of him. Fitz couldn’t make his mind work properly. When had he gotten lost in her gaze?
“Hello, Fitz.”
“Hello, Gigi.” His voice sounded like sandpaper scraping over gravel.
What a picture she made. So pretty and perfectly controlled. Not a single wrinkle in her composure.
“You changed your hair since last we met.”
Her hand went to the red tresses, dropped just as quickly. “It was time.”
Tender affection filled him. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Now wait just a minute. I feel like I’ve stepped into the middle of a play halfway through the second act.” Luke looked from Fitz to Gigi and back again. “You two know each other?”
They nodded.
“Well, then. Right. Out with it, Fitz.” Luke’s eyebrows traveled toward his hairline. “How do you know my wife’s former maid? And more to the point, why are you calling her Gigi?”
Fitz was formulating his response, sorting through how much to reveal, when the Griffins’ butler entered the room and addressed Luke directly. “Mr. Brian Chesterfield has arrived for your four o’clock meeting.”
A look of utter horror crossed Gigi’s face.
Fitz went immediately to her. He took her hand and squeezed. But the attempt to comfort her did nothing to alleviate the terror in her eyes.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said for her ears only.
“You can’t know that.”
No, he couldn’t. Brian had attended Harvard with him, Luke, and Jackson. And, like Fitz, the man came from a long line of Harvard graduates from Boston. Most concerning of all, Brian’s father was Harcourt Wentworth’s personal attorney.
Gigi knew Brian.
And Brian knew Gigi.
Fitz had but one goal now. Protect her from discovery. Several routes would serve his purpose.
“Tell Brian we’ll meet him downstairs,” he urged Luke.
Unfortunately, Fitz spoke a shade too late. Luke had already sent the butler back down, and Fitz could hear the man direct Brian to where he could find Mr. Griffin upstairs.
He searched for a quick escape route. “Do you have another way out of this house?”
“There’s a back stairwell the servants use.”
“Gigi, what’s the matter? What’s happened?” Elizabeth touched her arm. “You’re trembling.”
Gigi stared blindly at Luke’s wife. She opened her mouth to respond. No sound came out.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” Fitz promised.
She managed a nod. “I . . . yes, please.”
Fitz glanced at Luke. “How do we find the back stairwell?”
“Exit that way.” He pointed to the door they’d entered earlier. “Take a right and continue down the hallway to the end. Go left and you’ll see where to go from there.”
The sound of footsteps spurred Fitz into action.
Once again, he’d reacted a split second too late.
Brian Chesterfield sauntered into the room, his easy gait indicating he had no idea of the drama his arrival created. Smiling broadly, his gaze landed first on Fitz, then on Gigi. Until that moment, Fitz had forgotten just how closely Brian and Gigi were acquainted.
How many times had he watched the two interact, their manners relaxed and easy, their heads bent at similar angles? He found himself stewing in an unpleasant rush of . . .
He refused to name the emotion.
“Well, as I live and breathe.” Brian grinned far too intimately for Fitz’s peace of mind. “Gigi Wentworth, home from Europe at last.”
The thoughts racing through Gigi’s mind were similar to those she’d had when Fitz had first shown up at the Summer Garden.
She was caught.
Her plans were thwarted. Her hope for redemption crushed.
The threat was equally real, perhaps more so, because Brian’s father worked closely with hers. Gigi had lost her chance to go home on her timetable, on her own terms. News of her return would travel to Boston with Brian.
“Welcome back to America, pretty lady.” Brian shoved around Fitz, who did his best to stand between Gigi and the other man. “I must say, Vienna hasn’t changed you one bit. You are as utterly captivating as ever.”
“Vienna?” Elizabeth’s eyes cut from Brian to Gigi, a tiny frown pleating the small space between her eyebrows. “When were you in Vienna?”
“She’s been there for nearly a year.” Brian took Gigi’s hand, pressed his lips to her gloved knuckles. “Eleven months too long, as far as I’m concerned. You belong in America, where the real men live.”
Her face burned at the outrageous flirting. She belonged in America, did she? Where real men lived? If she recalled correctly, Brian had been in Europe himself. She’d forgotten what a silver tongue he had, so similar to Nathanial’s.
Although he was a well-regarded gentleman among his peers, Brian had always been too forward, expressing more than simple interest with a look or lingering touch. As she had in the past, Gigi felt a little soiled after spending five minutes in his company.
She made her muscles relax, though her stomach remained a frantic flurry of nerves. “What a kind thing to say.”
“Only the truth, my dear.” His dark eyes smoldered. “Only the truth.”
Gigi wasn’t ready for this conversation. Any number of things could slip out of her mouth that would throw her character into question. She’d always known someone might recognize her. Why hadn’t she prepared better for a moment such as this?
Aware of the stretching silence, Gigi adjusted her smile to one of polite indifference and attempted to engage Brian in the sort of inane banter she’d once prided herself in. “Tell me, what brings you to New York?”
“Funny, I was about to ask the same of you.”
Fitz touched her arm, lifted his eyebrows. Grateful for his presence and the silent offer of rescue, she gave a short, nearly imperceptible nod.
With surprising alacrity, he stepped into the conversation. “I don’t believe you’ve met Luke’s wife.”
With Brian’s attention now on Elizabeth, Gigi forced her mind to work through what to say next. She wanted to retreat into her alter ego, even felt her shoulders hunching forward. The habit of making herself unremarkable was hard to break. But even that slight misstep would raise questions.
Shoulders squared, Gigi flicked her gaze to Fitz, then dropped it away at his ready smile. He was rescuing her, the big, sweet, dear, dear man.
After so many lies, she would have to tell more. And once again, Fitz would have to join her in the deception. A symphony of shame blossomed in her chest.
“Chesterfield.” Fitz enunciated the man’s name with a hint of impatience. “I understand you completed the inaugural Gordon Bennett Cup from Paris to Lyon.”
Brian took up the switch in topic with enthusiasm. “Came close to winning. Lost to a French Panhard.”
This sparked a rather detailed dissertation on the various European motorcar races in which Brian had participated and the types of automobiles he admired most.
Perhaps all was not lost, Gigi thought. It appeared Brian wasn’t returning to Boston straightaway but would be settling in New York to work with Luke. Something about organizing an automobile race similar to the ones he’d participated in across Europe.
Brian seemed to have forgotten Gigi completely, with no small help from Fitz. The wonderful man kept repositioning his stance, moving inch by tiny inch, until he eventually shielded Gigi from Brian’s direct line of vision.
Gigi used the momentary reprieve to shoot an apologetic grimace at Elizabeth. Tenderness and understanding mingled in her friend’s returned smile. The deliberate show of support was more than Gigi deserved.
Linking her arm through Gigi’s, Elizabeth said, “Where are my manners? I am neglecting my duties as a hostess. Come, Gigi. Let’s leave the men to finish their discussion while I show you the painting Luke bought me for our two-month anniversary.”
Her breath shallow, her heart full of gratitude, Gigi allowed her friend to guide her to the opposite end of the room.
Once they were out of the men’s hearing, Elizabeth pulled to a stop near a picture painted in the American Impressionist style.
Standing shoulder to shoulder with her friend, Gigi ignored the embarrassed heat crawling toward her cheeks and pretended avid interest in the painting. She’d really gotten herself into a fix this time, simply because she’d stayed at this town house too long. But it had felt marvelous talking about her past, without shame and only a very little bit of sadness when she’d told Elizabeth about her sisters and how much she missed them.
Elizabeth pointed to the top right-hand corner of the painting. Rather than make an observation about it, though, she lowered her voice and asked, “I gather Mr. Chesterfield thinks you’ve been in Vienna this past year?”
Stepping forward as if to study the spot Elizabeth had just indicated, Gigi nodded.
“That’s the story my family told to explain my sudden disappearance. I’m supposed to be expanding my music education at the Conservatory in Vienna.” Aware she sounded a little angry, she attempted to soften her tone. “I learned of this by reading the Boston society pages.”
“I understand.”
Gigi didn’t know how Elizabeth could comprehend a situation she didn’t fully understand herself. Eyebrows lifted, she looked at her friend. “Do you?”
“It’s all very clear, really.” Elizabeth’s expression warmed. “Your family wanted to protect your reputation.”
Behind Gigi’s eyes came the hot prick of tears. “I’m sure they told the story more to protect my younger sisters and the family name than for me.”
Elizabeth considered this a moment. “I suppose you won’t know for certain until you return.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Gigi had told Elizabeth of her plans to attend Annie’s wedding, though she’d left out the part about her great-grandmother’s pearls.
Her friend had been full of encouragement, and for a few precious hours, Gigi had allowed the sparks of hope in her heart free rein. Fitz’s arrival had only enhanced the feeling. But then Brian had appeared.
Glancing briefly over her shoulder, Elizabeth lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “Mr. Chesterfield has no idea you ran away with a man?”
The ice in Gigi’s belly turned into a ball of dread. “None whatsoever.”
“But Fitz knows the truth.”
Gigi’s only reply was a quick nod of her head.
“And he’s over there attempting to protect your secret?”
“It would appear so.”
A sigh slipped out of Elizabeth. “He must care for you a great deal.”
For an instant, Gigi allowed herself to consider the possibility. Yet she felt an unpleasant pinch in her chest because she knew a future with Fitz was an unattainable wish on her part. She was spoiled for a proper marriage.
Oh, sure, Fitz had spoken of forgiveness and God’s grace. He’d listened to her secrets without judgment, but he hadn’t shared any of his. She’d given him every opportunity to open up to her. Yet he continued to keep her at a distance.
Nothing had changed between them. Fitz was as withdrawn as ever. Even if he truly accepted her past, and she could believe herself worthy of a man like him, what chance did they have if he refused to open up even just a little?
Gigi glanced at him from beneath her lashes. Her heartbeat went a little crazy, thudding hard and unevenly against her ribs.
She quickly looked away.
Elizabeth grimaced. “It would appear Mr. Chesterfield has returned to the subject of your presence here in New York and is asking questions.”
“He must be stopped.” Gigi turned.
Elizabeth stilled her progress with a hand on her arm. “Fitz seems to have the situation under control.”
That’s what concerned Gigi most. Brian had left Boston at a time when their family and friends had been expecting the announcement of her engagement to Fitz.
She was on the move in the next instant.
This is what comes from telling lies.
The truth always came to light eventually and rarely in a convenient manner.
Gigi’s mind worked furiously for an answer to Brian’s queries that didn’t include a close connection to Fitz. She was in New York to visit old friends, to see the sights, to attend the opera or perhaps a performance at Carnegie Hall. A million reasons came to mind, any of which would do.
Gigi heard Elizabeth say her name, but she didn’t slow her approach.
“She recently made the acquaintance of Esmeralda Cappelletti,” she heard Fitz say. Thankfully, he left the specifics vague.
It was the perfect moment for her to join the conversation.
“I’ve always been a fan. Esmeralda is a marvelous talent.” Gigi drew to a stop beside Fitz. “Her rendition of Carmen has no rival.”
Luke snorted. Elizabeth gave him a sharp glance.
Missing the silent interchange between husband and wife, Brian took to the new topic with aplomb. “I heard Esmeralda sing the lead role of that particular operetta in London last year. She was marvelous. I understand her American debut is coming soon.”
“In two short days.” Her nerves suddenly making her talkative, Gigi proceeded to expound on the preparations under way and let herself get carried away, closing with, “The Summer Garden Theater is the perfect setting for Esmeralda’s return to the stage.”
Brian smiled. “Fitz said nearly the same thing.”
Too late, Gigi realized she’d revealed details that even someone of Esmeralda’s “acquaintance” should have no way of knowing. Unless she’d been given a tour backstage by, oh say, a potential investor wanting to impress his future fiancée?
What have I done?
Black tinged the edges of her vision. For a dangerous moment, she thought she might faint.
Her legs would have given out from under her if Fitz hadn’t wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close to his side. The move robbed her of thought, and all she could do was blink up at him.
For a second, she got lost in his gaze.
He seemed equally unable to look away.
“Well, well. You lucky sap.” Brian clasped Fitz on the shoulder. “Now I understand why you want to purchase the Summer Garden Theater. It’s to be a present for your future bride.”
“Perhaps.” Fitz’s smile remained in place, but Gigi saw the strain at the edges. “I wished it to be a surprise.”
“Right, right.” Brian dropped his hand, grinned. “About time you made it official.”
Luke found his voice. “Made what official?”
“Their engagement. It’s been rumored for years. To be honest, I thought you’d never get up the courage to ask her. Well done, my friend.” Brian slugged Fitz good-naturedly in the arm. “Well done.”
“You’re . . . engaged?” Luke’s tone was understandably incredulous.
Gigi attempted to speak, but words simply wouldn’t form in her mind.
“It’s new,” she heard Fitz say.
She glanced up at him. He gave her a meaningful look that said, Don’t utter a word. Let me handle this.
“Our families don’t even know.” Eyes never leaving her face, Fitz dropped a brief, achingly tender kiss to Gigi’s forehead. “We want to wait to tell them until after her sister’s wedding.”
Brian aimed a beaming smile at Gigi. “Mum’s the word.”
“We appreciate your silence,” she said in a small voice.
“Well,” Elizabeth whispered into Gigi’s ear. “That’s certainly one way to solve the problem.”