The door to the compartment swung open, and Lottie sat up with a start. She had only meant to rest her eyes for a moment but the gentle motion of the train must have lulled her to sleep. She turned expectantly toward the doorway, but instead of Alec an older woman dressed in deep purple appeared.
“Oh! I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?” The woman’s graying temples indicated she was likely on the other side of fifty, but her full cheeks gave her a distinctly cherubic appearance.
Lottie offered her a sleepy smile. “It’s all right. I hadn’t meant to doze off.” She glanced out the window. The train had stopped at a station. “Would you mind telling me where we are?”
“Padua. Only an hour or so to go before we reach Venice.” The woman returned her smile and settled into the seat across from her. “I am Mrs. Huntington.”
“Mrs. Gresham.”
“And are you traveling all alone, Mrs. Gresham?” There was the slightest note of censure in her voice.
Lottie shook her head and gave what she hoped was a bashful smile. “My husband is in the dining car.” How easily the lie slipped from her lips.
The woman’s eyes lit up. “Is this your honeymoon?”
Lottie paused. She and Alec hadn’t discussed their backstory, which now seemed like a rather large oversight on both their parts. “Yes,” she answered before the moment could turn awkward.
“How terribly romantic!” The woman punctuated her statement with a dramatic sigh. “I wanted to go to Italy on my honeymoon, but my dear late husband couldn’t bear the thought of Italian food, so we never went abroad.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mrs. Huntington waved a hand. “Oh, it’s been over a decade since poor Godfrey left me. But here I am, finally making the journey. Not alone, of course. I’ve a girl in second class. The daughter of my neighbor back in Milton Keynes. A Miss Abbott. She is about your age. I’d have paid for her to travel with me in first class, but the girl is such a chatterbox that I need the break.”
Lottie gave her an understanding nod, though she rather suspected Mrs. Huntington was a bit of a chatterbox herself.
The woman settled her hands onto her lap. “Now, you must tell me of your itinerary so far. I’m always curious to hear of other peoples’ travels. And please, spare no detail!”
Though it had been easy enough to lie about her marital status, Lottie found inventing an entire honeymoon far more difficult. Yet Mrs. Huntington truly did wish to know every little detail, and asked questions if they weren’t provided, so Lottie spent nearly half an hour recalling her time in Italy, substituting Alec as her travel companion instead of Mrs. Wetherby—though she opted not to give him Mrs. Wetherby’s chronic indigestion.
Just as Lottie began to talk about the village, the door opened and Alec entered the compartment. But his usual aloofness instantly dissolved as he caught sight of their companion. He put on an affable smile and his entire countenance seemed immediately lighter, as if he really was nothing more than a humble history professor. The change was so swift and complete Mrs. Huntington didn’t appear to notice.
“This must be your husband. I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Gresham. But your wife neglected to mention how very handsome you are.” Her eyes lingered over his frame in a manner Lottie didn’t much care for.
Having a handsome husband must be a rather tiresome business.
Alec continued smiling politely even in the face of the woman’s ill-mannered stare. “Yes, I’m afraid my wife only married me for my inner beauty,” he quipped. “But I confess that sometimes a man likes to be appreciated for his looks.” His eyes caught Lottie’s and he flashed her a little smirk she couldn’t help returning.
Mrs. Huntington tittered. “And he’s funny!”
Lottie gave her a tight smile, then addressed Alec: “This is Mrs. Huntington. She wanted a detailed account of our honeymoon itinerary.”
“Of course,” he said smoothly and gave a short bow to the woman. The corner of his mouth lifted again as he took the seat next to Lottie. “How far have you gotten?”
“To the village.”
His gaze warmed. It was just the sort of indulgent look a new husband would give his bride. “Ah. My favorite part.”
And just the sort of thing he would say.
Lottie couldn’t help blushing at the lie.
“It sounds lovely,” Mrs. Huntington interrupted.
Alec was obliged to address the woman. “Yes. It was.”
“Wherever did you hear of it?”
He turned to Lottie. “May I?”
“Please,” she said with a grateful nod. “You tell it so much better than I do.”
He smiled again before turning back to Mrs. Huntington. “My wife’s late parents traveled there on their own honeymoon. I’m not sure if she’s mentioned this yet, but we grew up together.” Then he paused and gave Mrs. Huntington a remorseful look. “I’m sorry, I should have asked this before. Where are you from, madame?”
“Milton Keynes,” she declared, having no idea that he was fishing for information.
“Ah, well, we are from Surrey. Our families’ properties bordered each other, so for many years we spent every holiday together.” Then he looked back at Lottie. “She was my first friend.”
Her throat tightened at the words, and she turned toward the window.
“It was idyllic, really,” he continued before his rapturous audience. “The kind of childhood one dreams of. Our days were filled with all sorts of endless adventures…”
As the fabled Veneto region sped by outside, Lottie listened while Alec wove a story from both truth and lies. Strangely, her heart ached nearly as much from the falsehoods. For how different things might have been for them both if all of it were true.
Mrs. Huntington clasped her hands to her chest. “And then when she came of age, you married!”
“No,” he said swiftly. Lottie turned back to Alec. His expression had darkened. “Not then. My family’s fortunes changed suddenly, for reasons I’d rather not discuss. We were forced to sell our home and move far away.”
Mrs. Huntington sucked in a breath. “But you never forgot her.”
Alec shook his head. “Of course I didn’t.”
Lottie’s eyes began to sting. She didn’t like this game anymore.
Mrs. Huntington leaned forward. “How long was it before you found each other again?”
Alec, the devil, paused before answering. “Five years.”
The woman fell back against her seat. “Five years! Oh, the separation must have been so difficult for you, my dear.”
Lottie glanced at him from under her lashes. His expression had taken on that unfathomable quality once again. “Yes,” she answered, pushing past the burn in her throat. “But it was the silence that was hardest to bear.” He turned the full weight of his gaze on her then and Lottie’s cheeks flushed under his heavy scrutiny, but she continued. “I came to believe he had forgotten me. Long ago.”
Mrs. Huntington was scandalized. “Sir, did you not write?”
But his eyes never left Lottie. “I had nothing to offer her back then. No fortune, no future.”
Her heart turned over. He couldn’t truly believe his lack of fortune stood between them. With her inheritance, she had no need to marry a wealthy man. They could have built their own future. Together.
“And her parents did not approve.”
Lottie’s breath caught. No. It was only for the story. It had to be. Uncle Alfred had no reason to stop them from marrying. Alec had left of his own volition. Because he had been determined to serve. Because he wanted to live a life beyond anything she could offer. She searched for the answer in his eyes, in his face, but he only stared back as solemn as ever.
Across from them Mrs. Huntington clucked her tongue. “Still. Not one word in five years?”
Alec finally gave the woman his full attention. “I did not want to give either of us false hope. It seemed cruel to do so.”
“But you were torturing the poor girl!”
“I know that now, Mrs. Huntington,” he said with a rueful smile. “But I was an ignorant youth at the time. Blinded by pride. When I had finally made something of myself, I returned to the house she had grown up in, but she was long gone. No one would tell me where she was, so I searched far and wide, crossing countries and then continents looking for the girl with the russet hair and emerald eyes. But she was not anywhere a fashionable young lady of means might travel to—not in Paris, nor Rome, or Zurich. Then, it finally came to me. I hurried back to England. To the secret place only we knew about, an old fairy cottage not one mile from our childhood homes. And there she was. There she had been the whole time.”
Lottie couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
Every limb vibrated as she wavered between wanting to slap Alec and kiss him senseless.
“If I hadn’t been so blinded by my ambition,” he continued. “By being the man I thought she wanted, I would have found her that much sooner. All I had to do was look inside my own heart.” Then he turned to Lottie. “Luckily she forgave my ineptitude in the end. Didn’t you, my darling?”
She hated how easily he manipulated her, and how very much she ached for all of it to be true. If only she could forgive him. If only he would ever ask her to.
Alec reached out and gently brushed his thumb across her cheek, catching the lone tear that had escaped.
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her watery eyes against the rest. “Yes, I did.”
And in that moment, it was indeed the truth.
The wine Alec had shared with Signore Cardinelli in the dining car must have gone straight to his head. He was used to spinning tales at the drop of a hat and had a reservoir of stories to draw from, but most of what he had told Mrs. Huntington was true. As was the pain in Lottie’s voice when she spoke of his long silence. And her forgiveness.
How easy he made their reconciliation sound. If only that was all it took. If only uttering a few words could be enough. But they weren’t those people.
Lottie’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked down. He had taken her hand in his, where her single tear had stained his glove. His very soul burned with the need to kiss away the rest still brimming there, but he merely gave her hand a gentle squeeze before he turned to Mrs. Huntington.
The woman was looking between them with something akin to awe. “My, that is quite a story.” Then she glanced out the window. The train had begun to slow down as they approached the station. “Oh! I must go find Miss Abbott. I told her we would depart together. Her mother will never forgive me if I lose her to a Venetian.” She gave them a genuine smile as she rose. “It has been a most sincere pleasure to meet you both. I hope you enjoy Venice and wish you every happiness on your marriage. I daresay you’ve earned it.”
“Thank you,” Alec said, while Lottie gave her a weak smile.
Alec had uttered a thousand lies and pretended to be a dozen different men over the last few years, but never had he wanted something so much to be true.
As soon as the door shut behind Mrs. Huntington, Lottie tore her hand from his hold and moved to the now-empty seat. Alec tried to catch her eye as she busied herself with smoothing her hat brim.
It wasn’t a lie. I meant every word.
“Lottie.”
Did my silence really torture you so?
Her fingers curled ever so slightly, but she didn’t look up.
Forgive me.
“I think it’s best if we adhere to my conditions from now on.”
“Of course. My apologies. I got carried away.” But this time she offered no forgiveness, only continued to smooth phantom wrinkles from her hat brim.
Alec gritted his teeth against her clipped tone as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “We need to leave as soon as the train stops. I met someone in the dining car earlier, and he can’t see us together. I would have mentioned it sooner if we had been alone.”
She gave him a curious look, but only nodded. There was no sign of tears now. The tension that had originally driven him from the compartment filled the small space once again and brought Alec to his feet.
Lottie paused in her fiddling. “Are you all right?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” he snapped. “Just hurry up, will you?”
She let out an irritated breath as she began to pin the hat onto her head. “The train hasn’t even stopped yet. What do you intend us to do, leap onto the platform?”
Alec pulled aside the compartment’s curtains ever so slightly and glanced into the hallway. “Something like that.” Hopefully the signore was still in the dining car finishing the rest of the bottle Alec had left behind.
Lottie rolled her eyes and stood. Alec followed the movement of her white-gloved hands as she smoothed the front and sides of her skirt. Cardinelli was right about the way she looked in that gown. She glanced up and caught him staring. Her eyes darkened, but her mouth remained hard. “Well, then. Lead the way, Professor.”
Alec tucked her arm into the curve of his elbow against her disapproving frown and drew her out into the hallway. “My pleasure, Mrs. Gresham.”
Lord, that felt far too good.
They waited by the exit so they could be first to depart. Alec focused on the growing crowd. Luckily there was no sign of Signore Cardinelli. As soon as the exit door was opened and the stairs brought over, Alec stepped out and handed her down. The exodus from the second- and third-class trains nipped at their heels, but Alec knew this station like the back of his hand. He pulled Lottie along through the pulsing crowd of vendors and visitors.
“Wait! What about our bags?” She shortened her steps to keep up with his long strides.
“I already took care of it. They’ll be delivered to my flat.” Alec couldn’t slow down. He wouldn’t feel better until they were safely in his home and she had changed out of that damned dress. Preferably into something as alluring as a nun’s habit.
As if that would matter.
“Oh, could we take a gondola?” she asked as they exited the station, her voice laced with excitement. He glanced down at her; their arms were still entwined, and her face turned up to his, so beautiful, so full of hope. To any casual observer they probably did look like a newly married couple. His chest ached even more than it had in the train cabin. How easy it was to pretend with her.
Their pace slowed to nearly a crawl as the crowds swelled around them. Alec drew a little closer to her, and Lottie didn’t protest. Her lips parted, but she simply gazed into his face, so he continued until the curve of her hip pressed against his side. Her soft, feminine form warmed his own, while her light rosewater scent slowly sank into his skin. Something even deeper in his chest twisted and wrenched like a sapling branch in a rough spring storm, but it did not break. The heart could survive unimaginable loss. It was designed to do so. But could Alec’s survive losing her again?
Lottie shivered against the light breeze and leaned toward him. “Not even a quick trip to Saint Mark’s?”
A lock of hair fell across her eyes. Alec had to fight against the urge to brush it away.
The square would be mobbed with tourists now. Perhaps…perhaps it would be all right. He hated to disappoint her more than he already had. Alec forced himself to turn away from her, lest they stand on the street until sundown. “Fine, but we must—”
“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise!”
An all-too-familiar voice boomed from behind them. Alec squeezed his eyes shut and silently let out a string of curses that would make the Virgin Mary weep. His damned distraction had cost him. He turned around with a scowl, but Signore Cardinelli was too busy eyeing Lottie to spare him a glance. “Alec, you devil! Of course you would keep this alluring creature all to yourself,” he said with a laugh and placed a kiss on Lottie’s hand. Only then did he meet Alec’s eyes. They narrowed slightly. “Not that I blame you.”
Lottie gave him a polite smile and glanced back at Alec. He caught the flash of unease in her expression, though she hid it well. She had worn the very same look when he found her with Mrs. Huntington, but he would again take care of this. They were in his world now. He rubbed a small circle against her inner arm with his thumb.
Trust me.
She still didn’t look at him but relaxed slightly against his grip. It was a start.
“Signore Cardinelli, allow me to introduce my cousin,” he said. “Miss Gresham is visiting from England.” The signore knew full well that Alec was a bachelor, but Lottie would catch on quickly. “The signore has an interest in antiques. I have provided him with appraisals on several occasions.”
That, at least, was true. “All of which caused the prices to increase,” he said with a teasing laugh. Then he gave Lottie an oily smile. “Cousin, eh? I had no idea a rascal like this one came from such enchanting stock.”
Lottie dipped her head. “Yes. I’m afraid Alec is the black sheep of the family.” Then she leaned in toward him conspiratorially. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you why.”
Signore Cardinelli was struck dumb, then he threw his head back and laughed. The knot between Alec’s shoulder blades untwisted ever so slightly and he laughed along with the man. She had adapted even better than expected. It was a bit unnerving.
“Alec, you must bring her this evening. I told your cousin I’m having a little dinner party later,” he explained to Lottie before flicking him a sharp glance. “And I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer. Is this your first time in Venice, Miss Gresham?” he asked with impeccable politeness as he held out his arm.
Lottie’s smile was more genuine this time. “Yes. We were on our way to Saint Mark’s.” She tugged out of Alec’s grip and graciously accepted Signore Cardinelli’s arm.
“Oh, how convenient! I’ll walk with you. It’s on my way.” Alec muffled a snort at the obvious lie, but neither paid him any mind. “Now, tell me where you were before this…”
Signore Cardinelli’s voice faded into the street noise as they strolled in the direction of Saint Mark’s. Alec stood in place, watching the pair of them. After a few steps, Lottie turned back. “Aren’t you coming, cousin?” Her green eyes were bright with mischief, and likely more. Alec gave her a subtle frown but followed. No doubt Lottie thought she was punishing him by cozying up to the signore.
If she knew only the half of it.
As they made their way through the crowded streets, Alec kept a sharp eye and ear out, waiting to jump in and rescue Lottie from the signore’s prying questions, but there was no need. She easily deflected each one by asking plenty of her own, having quickly realized that Signore Cardinelli’s favorite subject was himself.
Lottie learned more about him in ten minutes than Alec had in ten months.
The base of his skull tingled. She liked this game. And was rather good at it.
But then, why wouldn’t she? Simply living with Sir Alfred provided them both with an intuition his colleagues would kill for. The man’s lessons had sunk deep into their blood, whether they were aware of it or not. Lottie was incredibly perceptive, highly intelligent, and perhaps in possession of more secrets than she let on…
It was all very hushed up, of course.
And I never tried to decipher the codes myself.
Alec flexed his fingers. His instincts had never led him astray before. There was a game afoot here. One far more complicated than a runaway niece.
And he would ferret out the truth. Whatever it may be.