Chapter Three

"Well you certainly picked a fine time to turn your ankle," Rachel said crossly. "If you'd open the window and let some air in this room you'd see what a beautiful day we're both missing. And all because of your poor judgment, spending so much time among those brutes at the Midway. With so many savage people about, it's no wonder you were robbed. Really dear, anything might have happened."

Hartley wished anything would. He was as bad at nursing a broken heart as his mother was nursing a body, possibly worse. Where Rachel was able to fix her attention on a variety of complaints and exert herself with long suffering sighs, Hartley single mindedly thought of Giovanni and ached to be resting in his strong arms instead of a couch.

"Hartley, are you listening to me? I just said you really ought to be more careful. I don't think you should spend any more time at that dreadful Midway, even when your ankle is healed."

"Is the White City really much safer mother?" Harley asked, feigning disinterest. "I'd heard there was a fire there yesterday."

"Yes, well…that's beside the point." Her point, anyway. "Overall it's positively picturesque with civilized company. Would you like me to read to you?"

It would be better than the conversation. "Why not?"

Rachel's faithful attention to her poor son just wasn't up to the task of watching him suffer so wearisomely while things were so dull in their rooms and so bright and gay without. After an hour of rather unenthusiastic reading, she sent a servant to be his nurse and went to attend a lecture.

Hartley immediately sent the servant away, so as to have a proper sulk on his own.


Later in the day Hartley was napping on the couch by the window, that being the only reason he heard the raps on the glass. They were quick and soft, which was lucky because if anyone else had peered out the window to investigate they'd have gotten a scare.

As it was, Hartley only started a little, being much too exhausted for more than that. Giovanni was hanging just in front of the window, bracing himself with a foot kicked out against the strong limb of a tree he'd climbed to get there. The height alone would have made a sensible man dizzy enough to lose balance. However, Hartley was beginning to harbor some of his father's doubts about the Italian race's capacity for sense.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Hartley hissed.

"Oh good, I guessed right. Hi Hartley. You were right about your parents setting you up with a ritzy set of rooms. Can you help me in?"

"No! I'm an invalid again because of you!"

Giovanni's face fell. "I hurt you?"

Hartley merely nodded, lest he betray the extent of his true injury.

"I'll try to get in on my own then. Can you move back a bit? Let's see, this ought to…" He sprang into the air from the tree, caught the ledge firmly with both hands, and pulled himself into Hartley's room. "There now. Where are you hurt?"

"M-my ankle."

"Oh. That's it? Well that's not so bad. I've injured both my ankles more times than I can count. You should heal up fine." Giovanni took the chair from Rachel's writing desk, set it down across from Hartley's couch, and then sat down in front of him. He looked perfectly content, making Hartley wonder if the discomfort and awkwardness that seemed to hang heavy in the room was only felt by him.

"I've got rather a nasty bruise on my left side," Hartley said, indignant at having his injury brushed aside.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you pain," Giovanni said, in such a sorrowful tone that Hartley suspected he meant more than a hurt ankle and a bruise.

"You could have just said you'd changed your mind. I'm perfectly capable of contenting myself with the…the acceptable forms of friendship-"

"Even when you want something else?"

Hartley paused for a breath. "I don't often have a choice."

"But you've courted with boys before?" Finally, some emotion other than easy good humor showed on Giovanni's expressive face. He looked an odd mix of hesitance and eagerness.

"Yes, when I was abroad. As long as you're rich enough and private about it, all sorts of gentlemen will court you in Europe." Hartley guessed that they would in America as well, if his parents ever gave him room to breathe.

"Hm. What if you're not rich?" Giovanni asked. His mildly curious tone angered Hartley.

"Then I'd imagine you'd need even more discretion. Why? Why are you here plaguing me with these questions? I thought you wanted to be left alone."

"I did when I was scared, but I'm not scared now." Giovanni took Hartley's hand in his and regarded him with the utmost sincerity and affection. "I haven't been able to stop thinking of you, and it's driving me to distraction. I want to be with you Hartley Rathaway, however you'll have me."

"I want to be with you too," Hartley said, hesitating only a moment, eyes fixed on Giovanni's. "I don't know that we can-"

"Sure we can. Who's going to stop us? I just said, I'm not scared anymore, and when I'm not scared I can do anything." Giovanni smiled, his joy infectious. "I've got nothing to tie me to this place, or anyplace. I'll just follow you wherever you go."

"You really mean that?" Hartley asked. Giovanni took both his hands while nodding vigorously. He felt it too, but he had to ask anyway. "Why me? Why…what makes me so special?"

"I don't know, but I feel it and I trust it. I knew something in Chicago would change things for me, and it's you. I felt it when I saw you in that exhibit hall, and I knew it when we lit that fire. And when you kissed me, well, I'd never been more certain of anything in my life. Even if I did make a fool of myself about five seconds after, but that's part and parcel of knowing me. I, er, make a fool of myself rather a lot."

"It's alright, I forgive you," Hartley said, feeling tenderness towards such a handsome display of repentance. Giovanni gently brushed his fingers over the injured ankle, then lightly trailed them up Hartley's calf, resting on his knee. "As it would only be a short fall onto a padded surface this time, is it alright if I risk another kiss?" Hartley asked.

Giovanni's eyes were sparkling with a sense of adventure. "Try it and see."

Hartley leaned forward and kissed the other young man, but their lips had hardly touched before he pulled away. "Giovanni, what is that horrendous flavor?"

"Hm?" Giovanni absently touched his mouth with his fingers. "Oh, you must have tasted my tonic. I only just drank it before I decided to come and see you."

"Tonic?"

Giovanni lowered his eyes, looking a tad embarrassed. "I have a small problem with heights which, as you can imagine, has a tendency to impede my abilities when I perform. I invented a miracle tonic to give me courage and it's worked marvelously. I drink some of it before every performance."

Hartley frowned as something occurred to him. "Including that performance I saw yesterday? When we first met?"

"Yes, that was only the second time I'd ever used it, so I had rather a larger dose than was wise. Hartley, what's wrong?"

Hartley looked down at their clasped hands, then back to Giovanni's pale eyes, enchantingly lit by fondness for his companion. He swallowed around a suddenly constricted throat. "Don't you think, that is...isn't it possible that the tonic...wore off when you knocked me to the ground?"

"Oh. I suppose that is possible."

"And when it wears off today, do you think it's possible that you'll have another change of heart?" Hartley felt close to tears at the thought.

Suddenly Giovanni looked just as grave as Hartley felt. "I do see where you're coming from." He frowned, thinking it over. "But I know I'm in love with you."

"You are now, but you won't be soon, and I don't intend to go through that a second time." Hartley withdrew his hand from Giovanni's, preparing to mentally withdraw as well.

"Well wait a second, there's got to be some way we can work this out."

"How could we possibly work this out? Unless you intend to continually alter yourself with your tonic, and I have to say, the prospect of beginning a romance with someone who needs to be in an altered state to love me is less than appealing."

Giovanni looked positively heartsick. "But Hartley…"

"Don't trouble yourself Giovanni. Your heart ache will clear itself up once your tonic runs its course." His on the other hand…

Giovanni stood, his head low. "If that's how you feel…"

It wasn't in the least how Hartley actually felt, and the other boy had barely taken two steps before he lost the fight to keep his tears hidden. Giovanni was at his side in an instant, and Hartley hid his face in his hands, ashamed of the display of emotion. He couldn't help it though; in all his two and twenty years he'd never had the kind of companionship Giovanni had offered him, the kind entirely free of expectations, and it was all a lie.

Giovanni coaxed Hartley's hands down, framed his face in his strong hands, and kissed him until he stopped crying. "Hartley, I swear to you that my feelings are real. When the tonic wore off, I still thought of you and wondered at my behavior. But I didn't think I could show my face to you until I'd had some of the tonic. I think I'm just confused when it wears off, but now that I feel this strength and confidence I know that my feelings for you are…well, I'm not a poetic fellow so I don't have words for it but if you give me a chance I'll show you what I feel."

Hartley was struck with sudden inspiration. "Giovanni, can you help me to the writing desk? I've had an idea."

"Oh, um, sure." Giovanni brought the chair back to the desk and then carefully helped Hartley sit at it. He impatiently watched as Hartley composed a short but elegant letter. Hartley read it back twice, folded it over, and then beckoned Giovanni close. Giovanni knelt in front of him. "What was your idea?"

"This. It's for you, but not just yet." Hartley pressed the letter against Giovanni's breast. "Read it once the tonic's worn off and if it…if it works, you'll come back to me."

Giovanni placed his hand over Hartley's thin one, still pressing the letter to his chest. He lovingly stroked the side of Hartley's face, kissed him again, and then stowed the letter in an inner pocket of his jacket. "I will come back to you Hartley, I promise."

Hartley very much wanted to believe him.


Hartley passed the next week in a state of agony. In a way it was fortunate he'd hurt his ankle, as his parents were able to dismiss his mood on that account. However, his thoughts were fixed on Giovanni alone.

Giovanni, who failed to reappear long after his tonic must have worn off. Hartley was forced to admit by the close of the second week that he'd lost his wild Italian boy. The third week he spent in a state of desolation. There seemed little point in recovering his strength. If he did, he'd be pressed to accompany his mother to the fair, where he'd find reminders of Giovanni at every turn. He much preferred feigning continued discomfort and being left alone to watch the days pass.

Sometime during the gloom of that third week he admitted to himself that the entire romance had been a foolish dream. Just what would they have done even if Giovanni really had been in love? If Hartley were completely honest, Giovanni could no more follow him back to Central City than he could accompany the Flying Giuseppes. They would have been parted eventually, whether as lovers or estranged friends.

With time Hartley's injuries faded into an unpleasant memory, and his heart slowly began to mend. He took up some of his old pursuits, such as pestering his father about business, and was surprised at the man's reaction. Osgood seemed pleased with remarks that usually agitated him.

"It's good to see you back to your old self," he explained, no doubt in response to Hartley's obvious confusion.

"Oh, is that all? I had hoped you were taking me seriously."

Osgood smiled indulgently at him, and Hartley returned it, albeit in muted capacity. "Hartley my boy, it is relief beyond words to see you untroubled. I was beginning to think you would never smile again. If it would help your spirits continue to improve, I'll see about getting the workers a raise. Not a large one, you understand, and I'll have to talk it over with the accounts mana-"

"Father, it would mean the world to me," Hartley said with all the earnestness he could muster, hoping to demonstrate the significance of this action before Osgood could talk himself out of it.

"Al-alright son. A small raise it is."

"For all the workers, right? Not just the skilled ones or the men in the office?"

Osgood's expression was near a grimace. "If you insist. An exceedingly minimal raise for all the workers."

"Even the Italians?"

"I took great pains not to hire any, but I assure you, if there were Italians working in the new mills then they would get raises as well, now will you be satisfied?"

Likely not. Mentioning Giovanni's race brought a fresh pang of remembrance, but Hartley endured it and kept his manner light, lest his father determine that the raise would not bring enough cheer from Hartley to be worth the expense. He threw his arms round his father's neck, taking effort to smile. "Thank you father, a thousand times over! And I'm sure all the families you're helping will thank you too."

Osgood kept any feelings of disease to himself, returned the embrace, and then regarded Hartley with obvious affection. "We can put it into effect week after next, when we return to Central City."

Hartley gave a start at the unexpected declaration. "We're leaving Chicago so soon? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Hartley, we'd settled the date for our departure before you and your mother even left the city. Don't tell me you've lost track of time to such an extent?"

"Being shut away so long with my bad ankle must have confused me. I'll have to get my fill of the Fair before two weeks pass, I suppose."

He wasn't sure exactly why the impending departure had such a strong effect on his emotions, but Hartley found the news decidedly unwelcome.


Time has an unfortunate habit of passing in exactly the way we wish it won't. The days to the Rathaways' departure for Central City slipped away in a dizzying manner, and before Hartley had begun adjusting himself to leaving the Fair forever it was the night before the very day they were to leave.

Hartley got leave from his parents to take a walk unaccompanied, though to appease them he kept himself confined to the White City. He'd been getting on better with his parents than any time in his memory, and Rachel had feared the dangers of the Midway ever since Hartley's "attack".

Hartley tried not to think of Giovanni, but really there wasn't much else to think of. The White City was dull beyond words. It was also almost deserted; he even heard a few gentlemen passing him talking of plans to romp through the Midway. Before Hartley realized it he was standing in front of the exhibition hall where he and Giovanni had set their fire. How he would have liked to nurture Giovanni's naturally rebellious spirit! How he would have liked to leave his exploitive existence with his manufactured aristocratic family behind.

But he wasn't strong enough to do it alone.

A sigh reached his ears, and for a moment Hartley thought it was his own expression of wistfulness. Then he turned his head to look around, aware that the sigh hadn't come from him at all, and sounded more of…longing?

Hartley's eyes widened as they locked on a familiar head of thick yellow hair framing a handsome face and sparkling blue eyes. For a moment the two men merely gazed at each other, then, with a whitened face, Giovanni turned tail and ran.

Without a moment's thought Hartley chased after him, giving no thought to his lifetime of weak health, the fact that he'd never run more than a few paces at any point in his life and he was attempting to pursue an acrobat, or that the ground had been paved over in a hurry and therefore not particularly well and the significance that that would have on a recently healed ankle. He ran after Giovanni with every bit of strength he could muster, and at one point got quite close to the athletic young man.

Then Hartley's foot caught on a loose paving stone and he fell flat on the ground. He swore an oath and tangled his fingers in his hair, breathing loudly and quickly, sure that if he cried out again he'd never stop. Giovanni was sure to get away now, and he'd never have another chance to speak with him again.

"H-Hartley? Are you alright?"

Hartley looked up, surprised to see Giovanni stooping over him. "You didn't hurt your ankle again on my account, did you?"

"Why on earth did you run?" Hartley put forth in a strangled voice.

"…Well you know I'm a fool and a coward already. But your ankle's okay?"

Hartley slowly rose to his feet, ignoring the hand Giovanni offered. "It seems to be." He gave his ankle a full rotation and then dropped his foot back to the paving stones. "Now will you speak with me like a man or shall I pin you to the ground first?"

Giovanni laughed nervously. "I'm not sure you noticed this, but you never came near enough to catch me Hartley."

"You're near enough now."

Giovanni ran a hand through his air, exuding raw nerves, but the handsome smile was still on his face. "I suppose I do owe you a conversation. Let's walk a bit though. There aren't many folks in this area, but the ones that are are already gawping at us."

Hartley hadn't noticed, but he supposed it was true. He strode along with Giovanni, keeping a polite distance between them so the other man would know he wasn't in Hartley's favor. "So what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Not a whole lot. I don't have any excuses Hartley. All I can say is that I tried to come and see you again, but my courage kept failing. I read your letter over so many times that I learnt it by heart, but it didn't help. Once I got close enough to your apartments I started thinking about how…how everything would change. And I want things to change, but then at the same time I don't. It seems to me that the two of us are right at the edge of some enormous precipice, and that once we take the big step together it's all or nothing and we can't ever go back again."

Hartley nodded to himself, glad to hear Giovanni speaking the truth in such a sincere voice. "I've felt that too. It…seems very unlikely that we could ever tell anyone of our feelings. My parents would never understand. They intend for me to marry the daughter of one of their friends. Until recently I'd accepted it as an eventuality, and figured that if she were as little invested in me as I am in her, I would still court gentlemen on my own time. However...that arrangement has lost its appeal."

Hartley stopped walking and closed his eyes, urging himself to say what needed to be said. "I wish you were to be the only person I ever had to love, because I believe I do love you Giovanni. I know it's foolish, and that we only spent two days together, but the intensity of feeling I experienced in those two days has convinced me. My heart is yours, so do with it what you wish, just please consider me before you act."

Giovanni's face darkened as he thought over Hartley's words. He paced along the walk while Hartley waited, in an agony for Giovanni's decision but hopefully presenting a calm exterior.

After a seeming eternity Giovanni approached Hartley, took his hand in his, brought it to his lips, and gently kissed it. "I love you too. I know I do, and I'm not on that infernal tonic, so don't you worry for that."

With an exclamation of joy, Hartley threw his arms around Giovanni and pressed him close. He wasn't aware that he'd cried until Giovanni wiped the tears from his face.

"But what do we do Hartley? My folks are going to stay here for the rest of the Fair, and once it's over we'll be off Lord knows where for some other miserable venue, and it's probably not going to take us anywhere near you. I'll have to run away."

Hartley frowned. "I don't want to ask you to leave your family-"

"My apologies darling, I had no intention of misleading you into thinking I had any kind of attachment to my relations."

"You…don't mind leaving your family?"

There was something sad in Giovanni's grin. "You mean my father who isn't really my father, who beats me senseless if he gets in the mood, or my mother who looks on, glad that it's me and not her? Or my useless older brother, who has the nerve to be envious of me for being the star of the act? Hartley dear, I have no qualms about abandoning any of them. My only concern is that working with my family has been the source of my bread. If I leave them I can't very well support myself, let alone giving you the life you no doubt expect and fully deserve."

It was Hartley's turn for a wry grin. "And my dear Giovanni, now allow me to apologize for misleading you into believing that I had some sort of attachment to my wealth. I really don't. If it had been earned through honest practices then that would be one thing, but as it's come through the sweat and toil of tired masses my parents choose to keep faceless, our wealth sickens me."

"Oh." Giovanni shook his head, an infectious smile on his handsome face. "So you mean to tell me that I've been worried sick over nothing? That neither of us have any particular investment in the lives we lead and therefore nothing to keep us as we are?"

"I suppose not," Hartley said with an answering smile.

"Then I suppose we really ought to run away together."

Hartley clasped both of Giovanni's hands in his. "That's just what I was thinking."


A/N: I'm putting the finishing touches on the epilogue and then I'll post it. I'm really sorry for taking so long finishing this story up. I'd been reading 19th century women writers to get the flavor of the text right (and because I LOVE that particular brand of chick lit), and I switched from Louisa May Alcott and Mary Cholmondeley to Jane Austen, which is not only earlier in the century but with decidedly differently behaved protagonists. The story kept coming out too sentimental even for me, which tripped me up (let's face it, I'm no Jane Austen). I think I rewrote this part half a dozen times. Anywho, the epilogue will let you guys know what Hartley and Giovanni get up to once they run away, so I guess I'd better finish it off. Hope you guys have as much fun reading my little AU as I had writing it and thanks in advance for any feedback :)