Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“The strike, my dear. I sent my man after you, but you managed to get away from him. I only wanted to talk to you. The trick has been to get you a letter without your husband knowing of it.”

Giana sat back in her chair. “I thought I heard a familiar voice, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“Then why did you run?”

“I was frightened. The strikers were a rough group. Then that man you sent after me looked anything but friendly.”

“My valet, Chalmers. He’s scum, but I find that I cannot afford better at the moment.”

The waiter brought their wine and poured two glasses.

“To our reconciliation,” Randall said, raising his glass.

“To my walking out of here in five minutes.”

“Still a tart-tongued bitch,” Randall said, setting down his glass.

“Randall, I came only because your note was a threat. You will now explain yourself, else I won’t wait the five minutes.”

“And your dear husband, my dear? I trust you did not tell him of our tryst.”

“Do you still indulge in trysts, Randall? I find it difficult to believe that seventeen-year-old girls would still be prey to a man of your age.”

“Did you tell your husband?”

“No, I did not.”

“Very wise of you. But then again, you and Mr. Saxton believe that you’ve been wise in all your endeavors, don’t you?”

Her fingers whitened about the glass. “You have well under five minutes left, Randall.”

Randall Bennett sat back in his chair and smiled at her. “You have such presence, Giana. Who would ever guess that you and Mr. Saxton are indulging in such an elaborate charade?” He leaned toward her, his eyes narrowing. “You little whore. Did you enjoy spreading your legs for Alex Saxton the first week he was in London?”

There is nothing he can do to us, Giana thought. He knows nothing save that I was pregnant before I was married. “You begin to bore me, Randall,” she said. “I might add that my husband doesn’t like me to be bored or bothered.”

“Very well. I find myself in need of funds, Mrs. Saxton, and you, my dear, will provide them. I want ten thousand dollars from you, within the week. You can consider it the dowry I never received.”

“Are you mad?”

“Not at all. Even though I am in somewhat restricted circumstances at the moment, I have access to New York society. They’ve been rather decent about your obvious pregnancy. But there is something rather unnerving that none of them know, isn’t there? I know, Giana. I know that you are not married.”

“Randall, you are talking nonsense. No one would believe you. No one. Now, if you are quite finished—”

She made to rise, but his hand shot out to grab her arm. “You think not, Giana? You forget, my dear, that you were once to be my wife, and that I know you and your dear mother quite well. Your supposed marriage with a special license never took place. I checked, out of special interest, you know, but I never really imagined you would perpetrate such an outrageous scheme.” He wagged his finger at her. “Poor Mr. Saxton. Having to live with you without even controlling your wealth. What did you and your mother have to pay him for his compliance?”

Whether I give him the ten thousand dollars or not, she thought, he will never leave us in peace. But if you don’t pay him, it will all be over, even before the baby is born.

She heard his voice, clipped now, and very self-assured. “I will give you two days, Giana, until Friday. You will bring the money here. If you don’t, I suggest that you and Mr. Saxton plan to leave New York, for I will make the both of you pariahs. Ah, I see that now you believe me. Friday afternoon, Giana. I will let you buy the wine then, to celebrate.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to plead with him, but she knew it wouldn’t help. Nothing would help.

“This transaction is between the two of us, Giana. I have nothing against Mr. Saxton, but I will not hesitate to ruin him, if you force me to.”

Giana didn’t answer him. She slowly rose from her chair and walked from the restaurant. The driver of a hansom cab looked hopefully toward her, but she pulled her bonnet tight against the stiff winter wind and walked past him. She felt numb, and very tired. Absurdly, she remembered her old nanny telling her that a lie is the devil’s victory.

She felt the baby move in her womb, and stuffed her hand against her mouth against a sob. She had tried not to think about the time passing, about the time left to her and Alex before she was to return, without him, to London. But she did not want to lose him, not now, not when she was just discovering what they could have together. She paused, blinking at he

r thought. You and Alex have nothing more than a brief arrangement. You will leave and he will soon forget you.