Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“What is Agnes preparing for dinner tonight?” he asked, in an even voice.

The house was quiet. Delaney had left that morning for Washington, with a quick hug for Giana. “I am not such a scurvy fellow as to wear out my welcome.” He had shaken his head. “The one time you needed me, and I was dancing a decadent polka.”

Leah and Anna were upstairs in the midst of lessons. Alex had left for the shipyard, leaving Giana with some paperwork in her library. But she couldn’t seem to concentrate. She was chewing on the end of her pen when Herbert knocked on the partially open door.

“Madam?”

“Yes, Herbert.”

“There is a man here, asking to see you. He says he found something you lost.”

Giana felt a moment of fear, but realized quickly it was foolish. “You may show him into the drawing room, Herbert.”

The man facing her when she entered was dressed in severe, respectable black. His features were plain, his age, she guessed, around forty. She had never seen him before.

“Yes?” she asked. “I understand you have something of mine?”

“My name is Chalmers, ma’am,” he said. “And, yes, I believe you dropped these yesterday.”

He handed her the wooden box of Alex’s Havana cigars. Giana’s eyes flew to his face. “You were there, Mr. Chalmers?”

“Yes, ma’am. A gentleman asked me to deliver this letter to you, personally.”

He handed her a sealed envelope. “If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Saxton.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chalmers.”

She stared at the bold black handwriting leaving her as pale as if the man who had penned her name were standing before her. Randall Bennett’s writing was distinctive and elegant, not easily forgotten.

And he was here, in New York.

She tore open the envelope, and spread out the single sheet of paper. “My dear Giana,” she read, “as you see, my dear, I am in New York and anxious to see you again. I would advise you to meet me tomorrow at Luigi’s Restaurant on Williams Street at three o’clock, concerning a matter of importance to you. If you do not come, I promise you that both you and your husband will regret it. It would be a grave mistake to inform Mr. Saxton, for reasons I will explain in person. Until tomorrow, my dear.” His name was signed with a flourish at the bottom of the page.

Chapter 24

Giana left the hansom cab at Pearl Street and walked the final block to Williams Street quickly, paying no heed to the freezing wind or the light snowflakes that splattered her face. She walked past Luigi’s Restaurant, and had to retrace her steps. She paused a moment before the door, then walked, head high, into the restaurant. It was small and dimly lit, and with no more than a dozen tables, each covered with a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth. Her gaze slid past the few people seated at the tables to Randall Bennett, who waved lazily to her from a table at the rear of the room. A fat, aproned man appeared at her side, but she shook her head, pointing toward Randall.

“Mrs. Saxton,” he said.

“Mr. Bennett.” He looked the same, she thought, his face still as flawless as a Greek statue’s, his body still as lithe.

“So cold, Giana, so cold. And so very pregnant. But I forget my manners. Sit down.”

Giana eased herself into a cheap cane chair. “You haven’t changed, Randall.”

“No? Well, my dear Giana, you have changed, most noticeable. A duke’s stepdaughter, living in the colonies. How eccentric of you.”

A waiter appeared and Randall ordered a bottle of cheap red wine.

“Improvident as ever, Randall?”

“I simply don’t believe you worth any more than that, Giana. But I can’t get over how very pregnant you look. I trust your husband is out of your bed by now?”

“Randall, your insults are childish. What do you want?”

“Did you not recognize Chalmers?”

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”