Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“You appear to nourish strong feelings toward my daughter, Mr. Saxton.”

“I freely admit it, ma’am. I have no intention of being refused by a headstrong, silly girl who seems to have no idea of the consequences.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Saxton, but Giana knows the consequences quite well. I have found myself wishing sometimes that she would be nothing more than a silly girl again, if but for a day.”

Alex gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. “You appear to know something about the summer I saw her in Rome. Giana refused to tell me much about it, merely chirped that it was all a mistake and that she had not been at fault. Nothing more.”

“Yes, Mr. Saxton,” Aurora said quietly. “I know about Rome, at least I thought I did. I was responsible for her being there that summer.”

“I am tired of games, Mrs. Van Cleve,” Alex said, his voice thick with impatience. “Are you saying that you sent your seventeen-year-old daughter to a brothel?”

Dear God, could that be true? “I suppose you deserve the truth, Mr. Saxton, at least the truth as I know it. Do drink your sherry; indeed, I think I will join you. This will take a while . . .

“So you see,” Aurora concluded some time later, “I entrusted her to Daniele, but our agreement was that he was only to have her converse with prostitutes, learn from them about the other side of life. Had I ever imagined such a thing as a Flower Auction, I might have thrown her into Randall Bennett’s hungry arms. I am still not sure. She asked me never to look into the particulars of that summer. The changes in her were obvious. She has avoided any entanglements with younger men and has thrown her considerable energies into the business. What I do not understand is why she didn’t tell me about you.”

“She may have feared you would kick my American hide out of London and destroy the merger.”

“Your hide is still in jeopardy, Mr. Saxton. Let me ask you a question. Would you have attempted to ruin us if Giana had turned you down?”

“Why no, of course not. I wanted my revenge, and it seemed the way to ensure it. Of course, I tried to be quite persuasive with Giana.” He paused a moment, frowning into his glass of sherry. “Your daughter can be every bit as ruthless as I, ma’am. I believe she never imagined that I would come here. If she had, she might have tried to stick a knife in my ribs. I am beginning to believe that she came with me to Folkestone because she wanted to, and I gave her the perfect excuse. You must tell me where she is. I will ensure she comes to her senses.”

Aurora remembered Giana telling her she had desired a man in Rome. It could not have been anyone but him. She had seen her daughter’s eyes when she was with him. Giana felt something for him, of that Aurora had been certain from the first day he arrived. She could not escape the feeling

that Giana would have a great deal to say to him if he had the chance to mull it out with her. But she could not betray her daughter, no matter what she thought. “I will not tell you. If Giana feels anything for you, she will come to you of her own accord. I will not pressure her to wed if there is no caring, if there is only that awful motive, duty. You are an American, Mr. Saxton. Giana is an Englishwoman to the tips of her fingers. And that would be the very least of your problems. No, Giana must do what she feels best. I will not interfere.”

Alex rose. “Then I will find her myself, Mrs. Van Cleve.”

Aurora watched him stride from the library, her brow furrowed in thought. “I wish you luck, Mr. Saxton,” she said under her breath.

She chewed on a hapless fingernail for several minutes, for she knew that without her help, he would never find Giana, locked away in a corner of Cornwall, and his business concerns would soon call him back to New York. She rang for Lanson to bring Giana’s maid, Abigail, to her, and crossed over to her desk to pen a letter to her daughter.

Chapter 15

“Do stop fretting, my dear girl.”

Aurora gazed up at Damien, still clutching Giana’s latest letter. “I suppose you are right. She does sound well and content.” She still marveled at his aplomb. She had waited, weeks before, when she had first begun her recital to him of what had happened, for his toes to curl in his shoes at her story. But his silver eyes had remained soft, and he had leaned over and patted her hand. “You have behaved most admirably, my dear, yes, most admirably. Another woman would now be cursed with a malicious son-in-law and a wretchedly miserable daughter.”

“But you cannot understand, Damien.”

“Hush, my dear. I wish to kiss you.”

And so he had, and not a chaste kiss.

“I suppose it is time to ask her to come home for our wedding,” Aurora said now, still troubled. “My people have told me that Alexander Saxton has given up his search and is off to Paris and then to New York.”

“It occurs to me,” Damien said, “that Giana’s Mr. Saxton cannot be altogether motivated by chivalrous tomfoolery toward a destroyed virgin. He must feel something for the girl, else he would have given up long ago.”

Aurora sighed. “I have given up thinking about his motives. I know he has spent a good deal of money trying to find her. Indeed, I feared once that he would succeed. He nearly got his hands on one of my letters to Giana.”

“Perhaps you should relent and tell him where she is. Let the two young people fight it out between them. Cornwall is a tomb of a place, and they could yell at each other to their hearts’ content.”

“Surely that would not be right, Damien. Giana has insisted in all her letters that she does not wish to see him.”

“Silly chit,” Damien said, his mouth curved in a grin. “I did not tell you, my love, but your Mr. Saxton tracked me down a while ago at White’s, of all places. Tried to convince me to use my influence.”

“No.”

“Ah, yes. A forceful man, Mr. Saxton. Giana could do much worse for a husband, I think.”