They all looked in that direction. Somber and businesslike in a charcoal gray pinstriped suit, Leo was leaning against the oak paneled wall. Thrilled, nervous, and uncertain, Claudine wanted to rush into his arms, but their surroundings and circumstances kept the impulse in check. Their eyes met as he strode toward them, but she could not fathom his thoughts.
After a polite and formal greeting to her and his mother, he spoke to Alex in an outpouring of concern, deftly skirting around difficult subjects. They automatically conversed in French as they had when they were boys. Claudine marveled at the ease with which they resumed their friendly rapport. “You haven’t changed at all,” Leo lied smoothly.
“Well, you have. I almost didn’t recognize you in that suit. I take it the depression isn’t affecting your theaters.”
Leo held the door for them, and they all shuffled out of the waiting room into the dim hallway.
“So this was the arrangement you needed to make? You said you weren’t going to tell him about this,” Claudine mumbled to Madame Barnett as they descended the stairwell, bathed in colorful light slanting down through a stained glass window.
“Your request was absurd so I lied. He was horrified by the news and wanted to help in any way possible, just as I expected. So I told him he could pay. The skills of the most reputable hand surgeon in New York don’t come cheaply, and I would never presume to ask Dr. Dixon to perform the surgery for free. Besides, the expense is a trifle for Leonardo. You should see the house he lives in.”
Claudine thought it best at that point to let the subject go. She felt guilty about keeping secrets from Madame Barnett, but complete disclosure of her history with Leo would have consequences she wasn’t prepared to face at this moment.
Leo took them out for a celebration dinner at Delmonico’s, but the occasion was anything but festive. Worry, regret, secrets, and suspicions undermined any efforts at light conversation. Four steaks went largely uneaten.
“I saw you in concert once,” Leo said to Alex after a particularly awkward lull.
Alex frowned slightly. “Why didn’t you come backstage?”
“I wanted to, but I assumed your entire family hated me.”
“Because of that business about leaving college? Why should I care about that?”
Claudine longed to explain the reason for Leo’s exile, but the secret wasn’t hers to tell. The lively chatter and laughter at surrounding tables made the silence at their own table particularly noticeable. As Leo lifted his wine glass, her gaze fell to his hand, which looked swollen and bruised about the knuckles. “What happened there?”
Madame Barnett looked as well. “Have you been involved in a brawl?”
He put the glass down and motioned to a waiter. “I think it might be good for Alex to be away from the city for a while. I have a cottage in Newport. Peregrine Point. Fresh sea air and the relaxed pace of life will be just the thing to aid his recovery.”
Claudine feared Odette might try to find Alex and exact some twisted vengeance for his desertion of her. She’d already proven she was capable of hurting him without any remorse. “I think it’s an excellent idea.”
He looked across the table at Claudine. “You will be free to attend to him while he recuperates, I presume.”
What would Fowler do when she didn’t appear for the meeting he’d arranged on Friday? “Yes. Of course.”
“Good. You and Alex will stay at my house in the city tonight, and we’ll leave tomorrow following the surgery. We can get whatever you need in Newport.”
Madame Barnett speared her son with a reproachful look. “Claudine cannot live in your home without a chaperone. Honestly, Leonardo, for a man who earns his living by catering to the public’s questionable taste, you are remarkably oblivious to what is socially acceptable… or is that conveniently oblivious?”
Leo kept his expression and tone pleasant. “Alexandre will be there. They are cousins. I hardly think anyone would object to a woman aiding in her cousin’s recuperation.”
“That is not the part people will remark upon. You are no relation to Claudine, and you’ve managed to build quite a reputation for yourself where females are concerned.”
Their gazes locked in a silent challenge. “Did she mention we’re engaged?”
Alex’s jaw sagged. “You’re going to marry Claudine?” He pronounced her name as though it contained twice as many letters.
Claudine could only gape in astonishment. Until this moment, she hadn’t been certain whether he’d changed his mind or not. In any case, she’d never given her consent, and she didn’t like his presumption that it was a foregone conclusion. They still had many issues to resolve.
She took a sip of wine. Though it had fallen low on her list of priorities, she was still waiting for an apology for his lack of faith in her investigative methods. The likely motive for his proposal troubled her even more. Would he have offered to marry her if he didn’t know her family? And - her gravest concern - what was she going to do about Jonas Fowler?
Alex’s head turned back and forth between them. “When did this come about? And how?”
Madame Barnett looked pointedly at her son. “Both good questions.”
As Claudine released her wine glass, Leo captured her hand between his own. “Very recently.”
Madame Barnett frowned at her. “Why did you not say a word of it? Do you have something to hide? And what about that other fellow? It’s all so unseemly.”
“She’s been reluctant to tell people because she’s been worried about what people might think,” he said. “We didn’t have a traditional courtship. We fell in love so suddenly there wasn’t time.”
A line furrowed in the center of Madame Barnett’s wide forehead as she continued to focus upon Claudine. “Was that before or after you became engaged to the other fellow?”
“What other fellow?” Alex interjected.
“Someone unworthy of her,” Leo said tersely. “I’ve cleared up his misassumption so we need not spare him another thought.”
Claudine felt sick. “You’ve seen him?”
“We spoke, and I made it plain to him you were already committed to me so we have an end to it.” His expression matched his impassive tone.
“That only proves that engagements sometimes come to nothing,” Madame Barnett pronounced. “Alexandre and Claudine will stay with me. There are more than enough spare rooms at Ardaut House.”
“You would have a wounded man stay at a settlement house with all of those immigrants bringing diseases from all corners of the globe,” Leo said. “Think of the germs!”
“Is my immigrant son implying Ardaut House is unclean?”
“I’m simply stating there is a far better alternative, and Claudine has already expressed her support for the idea.”
They all turned to look at Claudine for verification. She nodded faintly. Leo looked intensely satisfied. Claudine felt evermore uncertain.
Madame Barnett stabbed a lone pea on her plate. “If you insist upon living with a man to whom you are not yet married, then I think I must go as well.” She focused upon her son then. “Or would inviting your mother to your home be too much of a burden for you?”
“It’s no burden at all,” Leo said flatly, staring at the tablecloth.
“Is that why you’ve never seen fit to invite me to this cottage of yours?”
“What would be the point? I know you don’t like to travel, and you’re always preoccupied with some sort of crisis at the settlement house: a brawl, a theft, a lover’s quarrel. When do you have time for holidays at the shore?”
“Well, this will hardly be a holiday, will it?”
“No, that it most assuredly will not be.”
Another lull, full of surreptitious and acrimonious glances, followed. Only Alex seemed somewhat amused by it all. He gave the hesitant waiter a nod and leaned back in his chair while he surveyed his menu again. “Anyone else in the mood for dessert?”
* * *
Trilling’s f
ace lit up the moment Claudine stepped into the mosaic-tiled vestibule. “It’s so good to see you again, Mademoiselle Lavoie! We were all very worried.”
“Again?” Alex asked with a bemused expression. “What have you been up to, cousin?”
Claudine felt her cheeks grow warm. It was odd to think she’d once longed to confide all her problems to her cousin. She no longer felt that need. The truth about her illicit romance with Leo would only result in awkwardness for all of them.
“Don’t let me keep you from any improper conduct. Madame Barnett will put a stop to that soon enough.” She’d taken a separate cab to Ardaut House to pack her bags and make arrangements for her absence. It wasn’t clear whether she intended to begin her duties as chaperone tonight or tomorrow. Perhaps she was beginning to sense the futility of trying to prevent something that had already occurred.
Leo’s neutral expression revealed nothing as he led them into a pale green parlor with gilded moldings. Alex naturally gravitated toward the grand piano and sat upon the bench. “May I?”
“You don’t have to ask,” Leo said.
Alex began to play the first few bars of Mozart’s Rondo Alla Turca with his right hand, almost caressing the keys. Claudine leaned against the wall, afraid to come any closer. Her eyes blurred with unshed tears at the sight of her cousin playing the instrument he was born to play and the joyous sound of the music he created.
Alex was so absorbed he took no notice of them. When he reached the last few notes, applause erupted, and Claudine realized the servants had come to listen as well. Alex looked startled at first, then wistful.
“Do you know The Night We Met?” Nellie asked shyly.
His face assumed a mask-like pleasant expression. “Of course.” He launched into the popular tune, and the servants drew closer. They began to sing, with hesitation at first, but the sound of their varied voices gradually grew louder. Their cheerfulness made up for their lack of pitch.
As Alex’s fingers danced up and down the keyboard, Claudine sensed Leo’s presence beside her, and her pulse quickened.
“I never had the opportunity to show you the garden when you were here last,” he said softly by her ear. “Would you care to see it now?”
She nodded, desperate to reach some sort of understanding with him prior to their journey to Newport but afraid of the outcome. Leo took her hand in his. The thrill of his touch added to her nervousness. They walked in silence to the back of the house, lit by brass sconces, and down a few stairs to a set of wrought iron doors.
He held open one of the doors for her, and she stepped into a secluded paradise bordered by a stone wall. Moonlight reflected off creamy white petals of all shapes and sizes. Clematis climbed tall yews. Lilies of the valley and trumpet-shaped moonflowers lined a brick pathway leading to an iron bench and a stone fountain. The constant spray of water drowned out much of the surrounding street noise. A faint breeze carried the scent of gardenias and phlox as she walked ahead of him.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
She’d been in larger, more formal gardens, but she’d never been in one quite as sensual as this. He watched her with an attentiveness that belied his casual stance. The soft lighting somehow accentuated the perfect symmetry of his angular jaw, square chin, and determined, provocative mouth. With a sense of longing and hopelessness, she realized the most beautiful thing in Leo’s garden was Leo. “Yes.”
“But not a single orange tree. We’ll have to add some. I know how much you like them.”
Why was he acting as though everything were perfectly fine between them? “I’m not certain the climate here is right for orange trees.”
“I’ll make whatever adjustments they need to survive. I really don’t think my garden will be complete without them. I could build a conservatory…”
Apparently, he didn’t intend to address a single issue of importance. She’d have to do it then. “Thank you for dealing with de Malliffet.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “You’re not miffed that I sent him on his way without giving you a chance to decide for yourself? I know it was presumptuous of me, but he was quite intent upon marrying you, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
A wave of hostility rushed through her at the thought of Philippe’s audacity. The ferocity of her hatred stunned her. “That was never going to occur, but I’m glad you handled the matter in your own way.” She couldn’t help but surmise the conversation that preceded the bruising of Leo’s knuckles. “I imagine he said some highly unflattering things about me.”
“Actually, he saved his unflattering comments for me. He very much resented my interference.”
“Well, I thank you for it,” she said stiffly. “He is a vile man, and I don’t wish to see him ever again. And thank you for paying for Alex’s surgery and offering your home for his recuperation.”
He came closer. “I was happy to do it. Alex was like a brother to me when we were boys. I still think of him that way. I only wish I’d tried to reach him sooner, before he met that woman, but our friendship had fallen off during my exile from New York, and I didn’t know how to resume it.”
“I highly doubt you could have prevented what happened. Alex has always been drawn to danger. Most of the time he’s good natured and charming, but when something upsets him—anxiety over a performance, a poor review, an ambiguous comment—his mood shifts. He becomes self-destructive.”
“I remember those moods well.”
It was such a relief to be able to discuss her concerns with someone who understood. “No one in my family was ever willing to talk about the problem. My mother was threatened with institutionalization as a young woman so she’s very sensitive to the subject of mental imbalance.”
Leo showed no surprise at her confession of this dark family secret. “I encountered many troubled people at Ardaut House so Alex’s behavior never struck me as all that unusual.”
Again she sensed how difficult it must have been for Leo to spend so much of his childhood in a settlement house. Working as his mother’s assistant, he’d no doubt learned how to be compassionate and patient with those who were troubled or in need, but she wondered if he hadn’t been a bit neglected in the scheme of things.
He deserved to be cared for, to be happy. She realized she wanted to be the one to make him happy, but she doubted she could. What had she brought into his life so far but anguish? She looked away from the face she loved and focused upon the house, glowing with light. As soon as Alex recovered, she would distance herself. “Well, I should return. He’ll wonder where we’ve gone.” She took a few steps toward the wrought iron doors.
“I know I have no right to ask, but can you ever forgive me for misjudging you?”
She turned. Her throat felt so tight it was difficult to speak. “I already have. I realize how preposterous my explanation must have sounded to you. Many times I nearly gave up on the idea that working there would lead me to my cousin.”
“But you didn’t. You were brave and determined. I think he would have died at the hands of that demented woman if not for you. And I was a narrow-minded possessive ass, too blinded by jealousy to consider the possibility.” He came to her and cupped her face. His thumbs tilted her head back to meet his gaze. His hazel eyes glinted. “If you marry me, I promise you’ll never have to face a crisis alone again.”
The raw emotion in his voice triggered the release of all the feelings she was trying so hard to contain. Her heart beat wildly. “You don’t know what you’re offering. Trouble seems to find me.”
He pulled her slowly forward against his hard chest, into the safety of his arms. “What’s worrying you so? It’s Fowler, isn’t it? Has he threatened you?”
She said nothing and kept her face blank.
“I’ll take care of it.” His tone was low and clipped.
“That is exactly what I’m hoping to avoid. Promise me you’ll do nothing.”
He stroked her hair, his long fingers tangling in her carefully arranged swirls
. “Then I promise,” he said too easily.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’ll even befriend the chap, invite him to the wedding. Trust me, he’ll stop harassing you once he realizes it’s hopeless. I’ve known him a long time. You won’t be the first woman he’s tried to bully. Or the last, sadly. Marry me and he’ll give up.”
His fingers had burrowed to her scalp and his lips hovered mere inches from her own. She couldn’t escape, nor did she have any desire to do so. “I could hardly do anything else since you already announced it,” she murmured.
The lines of strain upon his face eased as his lips curved into a grin. “True. There really is no way out for you.” His mouth slanted over hers in a thoroughly devouring kiss that left her breathless.
Leo really did possess a gift for making complicated situations seem simple, but her nature was quite the opposite so she felt compelled to ask, “Would you still be so eager to marry me if you didn’t know my family? If you still thought of me as Madeleine Lavoie?”
“How can you even ask me that? I’ve been in love with you from the moment I heard your voice, long before I knew who you were,” he said hoarsely. “I wanted to take care of you from the first moment I saw you.”
His declaration reverberated through her like a chime. Content, she rested her head upon his shoulder.
“And I have no wish to keep you from doing what makes you happy. Your voice is a treasure, meant to be heard. I only ask that you stay away from places like The Crystal which are unworthy of your talent.”
“I shall miss dressing up like a shepherdess who has lost half her dress.” She was only half-kidding. Apart from Jonas Fowler’s unwanted attention, singing at The Crystal had been freeing for her, and she felt like a stronger, wiser person because of it.
That slow, sensual grin came to his lips as he toyed with the tiny horizontal pleats trimming the edges of her jacket. “You could still wear it for me when we’re alone. I wouldn’t object.”
A low note of amusement came from her throat. “I’ll bet not.”
He unfastened the buttons at her neck, lifted the corner of her cotton blouse, and kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. She inhaled sharply. His firm lips nuzzled with increasing hunger until her body wilted like a stalk under the blazing sun. He pulled her closer, supporting her weight while his tongue delved into her mouth in a vigorous and possessive exploration.
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