The Letter

by Rebecca Bernadette Mance

  When she opened her mouth to respond, Victoria discovered she could only croak through her parched, scratchy throat.

  She looked with longing at the pitcher of water and a drinking cup on the bedside table.

  Thirsty are you? Well, we can take care of that.” William poured water into a sparkling, crystal glass. She inhaled taking in his delicious scent as he sat down on the bed holding the glass.

  Gently, William lifted her tormented head and raised the glass to her lips.

  After Victoria took a couple of long thirsty swallows, he gently eased her back onto the pillows.

  The throbbing in her head began easing in small increments.

  “Where am I?” she asked in a barely audible whisper staring up at him.

  “My home, darling. You have been very ill,” he answered his eyes moving over her face.

  Color flooded her cheeks.

  He had called her darling. Why was he taking such liberties with her?

  “Oh my gracious,” she whispered her memory surging into her mind.

  Memory of the brothel, the red room and Will finding her, all saturated her head but the remaining memories were only fragments surrounded by a thick fog.

  “I followed you,” she stated, her voice a little stronger as the throbbing in her head abated.

  “You did indeed follow me,” he said, his low voice sending a light shiver across her skin.

  “You went to a brothel,” she accused. A small inflection of outrage was unavoidable in her voice. She would never admit she was jealous.

  “Yes, I did, and it is my right to do so,” he informed her, a devilish smile forming on his too-delicious-looking lips. “But I will assure you that nothing happened there with Lotus. My thoughts were too occupied by a certain beautiful young lady.”

  His words sent pleasure rippling through her and a smile to her lips.

  “You look very satisfied my beautiful, but when you realize my need for you is so great that I might spend the better part of a week in the bed with you, once I get you there, you might not be so self-satisfied.”

  A deep flush flooded her cheeks and her eyes slid shyly away from his.

  “You should not say such things,” she whispered over her fluttering heartbeat.

  “Do you remember why you came to see me?”

  Her eyes flew to his and the memory flashed through her mind.

  “Oh God. Yes, yes, I came to see you to agree to your terms!” Her heart lodged in her throat.

  How could she have forgotten something so utterly significant?

  “Still, you should not take such liberties with your words, it is not very gentlemanly!” She cried.

  He laughed and said softly, “So shy, after chasing me through half the city to tell me?”

  “Please,” she said, as her face grew hotter.

  “Unless, of course, you have decided to back out on our agreement,” he whispered the challenge.

  He was daring her to back out. He was daring her to be a coward.

  “No, no, I haven’t changed my mind,” she said firmly, resisting the urge to fan her sizzling face. “I am no coward. And I never make an agreement unless I fully intend to see it through.”

  Even in the bright light of day, even filled with this terrible girlish shyness and a horrible aching head, she would do what she had set out to do no matter how momentarily formidable it was.

  He smiled tenderly, “Not to worry sweetheart, everything will be just fine.” He gently smoothed her hair back from her cheek.

  “My little love, I promise it will be an exquisite experience for both of us.” His words, filled with promise and pulsating desire beckoned her to shameful lust.

  “I am more pleased than you know that you have decided to accept my offer,” he continued, seemingly unaware of her betraying thoughts.

  “I . . . well, we barely know each other . . . I just hope this is the right thing.” she paused. “But I know it is what I want,” she added, quickly plowing through her nagging doubts.

  Pray for her eternal soul she shouldn’t want this, but she did.

  Exhilaration bolted down her spine. Anxious desire quivered in her belly.

  “We know each other well enough and we will know each other much better very soon. All will be well,” he told her cupping her chin in his hand where her pulse beat furiously.

  “What happened to me?” she asked, changing the subject entirely and pulling her gaze from his.

  “The tea Li gave you had a drug in it. She thought she was doing something nice for you,” he said with an angry edge to his voice and removing his hand from her face.

  “A drug?” Her dark eyebrows arched up. “Like medications?”

  “Like alcohol only it is much more powerful and it is often extremely addictive,” he replied.

  “That is horrible!” Why would anyone do such a thing?”

  “I presume the drugs have not made their way to Texas then?” he asked.

  “No, of course not. Why on earth would anyone take medication that they didn’t need? How awful that she would give them to me without telling me. How could she have thought she was doing me any good at all? I don’t like medications even when I am truly ill,” she said, outraged and confused.

  “I don’t know, I think some people want some escape from reality and drugs provide the escape. Continued use generally ends in death. But don’t worry about it. I think you will be alright. Once certainly can’t do too much damage,” he assured her, his eyes roving over her face for outward signs of lasting damage.

  “Now I am going to let Mina come and help you bathe and get you something to eat. How do you feel?”

  The throbbing pain in her head was almost gone. Only a small twitch behind her eyes lingered to remind her of how she felt when she first woke up.

  “I think I am much better now and I don’t need any help,” she said.

  Victoria suddenly became starkly aware that she was not wearing her own serviceable, cotton gown. Instead, she was wearing a beautiful pink lacy concoction that certainly didn’t belong to her.

  “Who dressed me in this?” She asked.

  William’s long silent pause and hot silver gaze was the humiliating answer that sent fresh heat rushing to Victoria’s face.

  “I did,” he confirmed his voice low and provocative.

  “Oh.” Her eyes skidded away from his to concentrate on the silken sheets. Despite her agreement to his scandalous terms, she was utterly mortified that he had seen her undressed and she had been completely unaware of his scrutiny.

  Smoothing the silky sheets under her hand, Victoria did not look up when she heard William’s steps retreating toward the door.

  She only dared to look up at him just as he reached the door and opened it.

  He paused in the open doorway, turned to her and said, “Victoria, don’t worry about what I saw. You are an incredibly beautiful woman.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Bathed and dressed in an elegant, powder blue, silk gown that fit her surprisingly well, Victoria attacked the meal that one of the maids had brought up for her.

  The maid, Mina, had helped her into a bath and later into the gown she claimed belonged to William’s cousin. Victoria had resisted the gown at first, but gave in when Mina insisted. Clearly, she could not wear a nightgown all day and her own wardrobe was still at the hotel.

  Then Mina had kindly set about brushing Victoria’s hair in front of the giant stone fireplace in her room until it was nearly dry and fell in fluffy waves down her back.

  “You hair is so lovely,” Mina told her as she brushed.

  “Thank you so much, but you should see my sister Mandy’s hair. Of course, everything about Mandy is gorgeous.” Victoria said fondly, as a pang of melancholy hit her. “Her hair is especially beautiful and is the color of spun gold.”

  What would Mandy be doing now? There was always so much to do at the store. Was she going to be able to manage for an extended amount of time alone? Well, she did have
Johnny for moral support and to help her with some of the work, so they would manage.

  At least Victoria had the comfort of knowing Mandy wouldn’t be hungry anymore or unable to pay bills. That thought warmed Victoria to her very bones.

  “You wish to go home,” Mina suggested with a warm smile of understanding. She replaced the brush back on the dresser. “You miss your sister.”

  “Yes, I do wish to go home. I like it here, it is beautiful, but I miss Mandy and, well . . .I miss my home” her voice trailed off. How could she explain? Even if she could, what words would she possibly use?

  “I understand,” Mina said. “Now you need some lunch to get your strength back. Mr. Worthington is very worried about you.”

  Victoria did not know why, but the notion of Worthington’s concern made her feel a little euphoric.

  Sometime later, after seeing to her lunch, Mina left Victoria to ponder her thoughts alone.

  Victoria’s thoughts unwillingly, but immediately went to William as she ate the light meal of chicken soup with toast. Victoria recalled vague memories of what happened the previous evening. William’s gentle hands and kind words came immediately to her mind.

  She spooned another hot savory mouthful of soup just as the sound of raised voices brought her out of her deep thoughts.

  *****

  “Where is she?” a woman’s shrill voice echoed through the large house and up the stairs. It didn’t take a great mind to figure out the owner of that voice was talking about her, Victoria thought, putting the tray aside.

  “Mr. Worthington said she wasn’t to be disturbed,” Victoria heard Carter say in his thick Scottish burr.

  “Shut up, Carter, or I will have you thrown out to the street. You Scotts are a bit too high handed if you ask me. Arrogant you are, forgetting yourself.”

  Bathed and dressed in an elegant powder blue silk gown, procured by Mina, that fit her suspiciously well, Victoria was in the middle of her lunch from elegantly set tray, when the commotion started downstairs.

  The stairs creaked and Victoria heard the heavy tap of shoes clicking over the polished wooden floor. Whoever this angry woman was she was getting closer by the second.

  “Where the hell is she?” the woman demanded in a shrill voice. Victoria heard a heavy door slam shut just down the hall.

  “Maam . . . . she is in the Gold Room,” Lolly murmured hesitantly in response. “But she has been very ill . . .”

  “The Gold Room! What utter nerve! What must William be thinking to put a strumpet...a tart, no less, in there?” the woman shrieked.

  The door swung open and hit the wall with a thud and before bouncing back. Victoria winced.

  A handsome, tall, mature woman of solid build stood in the doorway. Her silver-blue hair was swept up and held with jeweled combs into a fashionable style that enhanced her aristocratic features. Her pinched expression demurred her features and diminished any impression of kindness.

  Victoria stood slowly, her stance defiant.

  “Who are you?” the woman demanded, her chin rising and her eyes flashing in an expression that was vaguely familiar.

  Victoria realized that the intruder possessed William’s silver eyes. But that is where the similarity between them ended. Where William’s eyes were like molten silver fire, this woman’s eyes were as cold as hard gray stone.

  “Who are you?” Victoria responded with the same question. She wouldn’t back down from this angry woman, or feel shame about her current scandalous predicament.

  How dare you ask me who I am! As if you have any right at all. I am William’s mother of course!” The woman screeched in toned outrage. The sound sent a sharp pain bolting through Victoria’s aching head. Victoria sat down as a wave of dizziness sopped her strength.

  Despite her need to sit, Victoria stiffened her spine. She might have sold her soul to the devil, but Victoria wasn’t going to go around wallowing in her shame. Folding her hands together she looked up at the woman with a steady, direct glare.

  “I have as much right as anyone I suppose,” Victoria answered calmly.

  The woman’s pale features turned the shade of a ripe plum.

  “What are you doing in my son’s house and sleeping in the bedroom that is specifically designated for his wife?” The woman’s fire and brimstone voice shook with chin-wobbling fury bouncing off of the walls like thunder from a gathering storm.

  “I am here because Will brought me here,” Victoria answered in an even tone, while inside she seethed.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed and her mouth fell open like the guppy fish Victoria once saw in Sally Broomfield’s bowl of pet fish.

  “Why did he bring you here? You do not belong here!” the woman declared, advancing into the room with a sharply assessing glare.

  “This is completely improper, what must your parents think? ....such a shameful creature you are!” the woman bellowed stopping a few feet from Victoria.

  Victoria was trembling with outrage. What an utter snob this woman was. No wonder William was so cold and unfeeling. He had come by it honestly.

  “It is a little late for that, Mrs. Worthington,” Victoria said, planting a sugar-sweet smile on her face that she hoped resembled a cat that just finished a bowl of forbidden cream. “I am William’s mistress, so I suppose since we are so intimate it was his desire that I stay in his house.”

  The woman turned an even deeper shade of purple. Her whole body shook with fury. But Victoria refused to back down.

  “How dare you talk to me like that you . . . you trollop! What my son must be thinking of, I just can’t imagine . . . bringing a common whore into his house.”

  Victoria paused under the punching impact of Mrs. Worthington’s words while outrage of the injustice consumed her.

  “Get out!” Victoria hissed between clinched teeth. Standing up and stepping forward, Victoria put her shoulder’s back and her chin up. “Get out before I throw you out. If you have a problem with your son and his choices, then you talk to him about it. But if you think for a moment I will stand here and allow you to insult me in such a fashion, you are wrong. Now get out!”

  Startled by Victoria’s outburst of fury, Mrs. Worthington stared speechless at Victoria for a full moment before her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

  “You have not seen the last of me!” Mrs. Worthington threatened before turning on her aristocratic heel and marching out of the room like a soldier, her back ramrod straight.

  When the woman was gone, Victoria sank back into the chair shaking with rage and hurt. Looking at her empty soup bowl with queasy regret Victoria tried to calm her anger.

  She never wanted to be spoken to like that again, and she would tell William that very thing when she saw him this evening. How could the woman berate her when it was her own son who had taken her to his home and made the scandalous offer from the start?

  His proposal had left her little to no choice and Victoria had only done the most practical and sensible thing she could hadn’t she?

  He was offering her freedom, even if it required the price of her body.

  Of course, the problem was that the damning inescapable truth was that she wanted William as much as he wanted her.

  And there was something powerful and exhilarating about taking control of her life in a world where women had few choices.

  She was selecting the bold path, the forbidden path and the scandalous path. But she had made her choice to determine her own destiny whatever the price was.

  She wondered what his snobby mother would have said about that.

  ******

  Who is she, William?” Eunice Worthington demanded as she stood in front of her son’s desk in his bank office little more than forty minutes later.

  Regarding his mother’s agitated flushed expression and the angry commotion of her entry, William knew he wouldn’t get any peace until he explained Victoria’s presence in his house.

  Damn. He should have taken Victoria someplace other than his own
house. And had he dealt with the beautiful Victoria with a detached cool head, he would have anticipated this scene and avoided the situation entirely. His mother was always nosing around and in recent years since his father’s death, had taken an acute interest in his personal life. She had so little to do with him when he was a child. She had been much too caught up with her social activities to care much about what he was doing. As long as he presented himself properly in front of company she barely noticed him.

  It was his father who had always been there, his father who had taken him to the bank to learn the trade. It was he and his father who always had the long talks together in the massive library at their family home. It was his father he conspired and held counsel with.

  Other than his father’s guidance, William had been raised by nannies. Then, he was sent off to school. Even though her interest in him was very recent, William respected and cared for his mother. Eunice was not perfect, no one was, and more importantly, she was his mother. It was his duty to look after her and respect her.

  “Do you know what she told me?” his mother asked, her shrill voice interrupting his thoughts.

  “What?” William asked, putting his pen down, leaning back in his chair and attempting to hold onto his deteriorating patience.

  “She said she was your mistress!” his mother accused, dramatically displaying her most scandalized expression.

  Throwing his head back, William laughed deeply unable to help himself.

  His mother, looking utterly dumbfounded, stared at him in silence. Then, she said, “Laughter from my son is a rare sound.”

  “Did she really say that, Mother?”

  Snapping back into her irritation, his mother answered, “Yes, she did and I find nothing, absolutely nothing, humorous about it.” Her chest rose and fell in agitation. “I demand to know who she is!” Raising her voice another octave, Eunice succeeded in making William become serious again but did not erase the small smile that played on his lips.

  “She is indeed, my mistress,” William confirmed, fondness creeping into his voice. “Now if you will excuse me, Mother, now that your mystery is solved, I have a great deal of work to do.”