“Please don’t apologize. You explained it all in your letter, and I quite understand.” Polly glanced around the station. “I hope my presence here hasn’t caused too much disruption for you.”
The Master’s sharp eyes glinted in the sunbeams slanting through the low windows. “He’s been here, hasn’t he?”
Polly’s eyes flew open. “Who?”
The Master clenched his jaw. “You can tell me the truth. I know Noah Bartlett came here to see you.”
Polly looked back down at her hands. Her fingers knotted in her lap and twisted around each other again and again. “How did you know?”
“His son, Felix, is one of my students,” the Master told her. “He can’t stop himself from bragging about his father’s notorious exploits.”
Matthew barely heard her words but as she spoke, a tear fell into her lap. “It’s nothing.”
The Master set his mouth in a hard straight line. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s nothing.” Polly shook her mane of curls but when she looked up at the Master, another tear streaked down her other cheek. “Can’t we just go to the hotel? I’ve been sitting here waiting for you ever since the train came in. I’m exhausted. Let’s forget all about it.”
The Master covered their interlocked hands with his other hand and pressed Polly’s hand between both of his own. “Polly, listen to me. I know you’re tired, and after meeting Noah Bartlett, you’re probably distraught as well. But listen to me. We’re going to be married on Sunday. You must trust me. Tell me exactly what he said.”
Polly looked into his eyes, but she still hesitated. Matthew held his breath behind the bench. Her lower lip twitched and started to quiver. At last, she dropped her eyes again and burst into a flood of tears.
“He said,” she hiccupped. “he said he’d kill us both if we did anything to get him in trouble with the law. He said he’d kill you if I told you what he’d done.”
“What did he do?” the Master demanded. Matthew never heard his voice so hard and cold before.
Polly sobbed softly for a moment. “Nothing. He didn’t do anything.”
The Master scowled at her. Only the soft puffing of her sobs echoed through the station.
“When he first showed up,” Polly said. “I thought he was you. I thought you’d come to meet me. I was standing on the platform, and I walked toward him to meet him. I smiled at him. Do you believe that? I smiled at him.”
“You thought it was me,” the Master muttered.
“All of a sudden,” she went on. “he started laughing. I’ve never heard such a horrible, wicked laugh in my life. He laughed in my face. I still didn’t understand. I still thought it was you. I thought, how can I marry this man?”
“So what did he say?” the Master asked.
“He said I was just what he thought I would be,” Polly told him. “He said I looked like a pretty good piece of work, and that I should have been able to find a man back East. He said there must be something wrong with me, if I came all this way to marry someone I couldn’t tell from a stranger on the street. Then he laughed at me again.”
“So when did you realize it wasn’t me?” the Master asked.
“About then,” Polly replied. “He started talking about you. He said you were a regular dandy about town, and that you had a pretty high opinion of yourself. He said you always paraded around town in a black coat that made you look like a woman.” Polly choked on a laugh in spite of herself.
The Master snorted, but didn’t interrupt her.
“What else?” he asked. “Did he harass you at all? If he did, I’ll have him thrown in jail.”
Polly shook her head. “If you can believe it, he never laid a finger on me. Do you believe that, with all this blubbering? You would think he molested me or some other terrible thing. But he didn’t. He didn’t have to. He said we wouldn’t be getting married on Sunday, and that I would be going with him as soon as he got rid of you. Then he said he’d kill me if I told you about all this.”
Chapter 4
Polly stared into the Master’s eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you as a result of my telling you.”
The Master picked up the hand he held clasped between his palms. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss against the knuckles of her slender hand. “I’m glad you told me. But listen to me and remember this. Whatever else happens, we will be getting married on Sunday. We’ll be getting married on Sunday if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Please don’t tell anyone about this,” Polly pleaded. “Let’s forget all about it.”
“I won’t forget it,” the Master declared. “and I won’t let him get away with this. He’s a coward, if he goes around terrorizing helpless women in train stations. I’m not afraid of a man like that.”
“But what can you do?” Polly cried. “He said he’s killed better men than you for looking at him the wrong way. How will you stop him?”
“Don’t worry about that,” the Master told her. “But I want to make this clear to you. Whatever else happens, we won’t keep secrets from each other. If Bartlett ever comes near you again, I want you to tell me.”
“He said he would kill me if I told you,” she repeated. “From the way he acted, I could believe him capable of it, too.”
“Oh, make no mistake,” the Master replied. “He’s more than capable of that and much more. But you and I must be stronger than him or anyone else like him. If he comes near you again, if he speaks to you or looks at you on the street, I want you to tell me. Promise me you will.”
Polly kept her eyes down, but she nodded.
“That’s right,” the Master told her. “We’re going to be man and wife, and I need to know that we trust each other. Now, let’s get you to the hotel. I’ll send the porter around for your luggage, and I’ll order a hot bath for you.”
“Thank you,” she answered.
The Master raised her by the hand from the bench. Polly glanced back as he led her toward the door. “Who’s your shadow?”
“Him?” the Master replied. “That’s Matthew Burke. He’s my star pupil.”
“Can he be trusted?” Polly asked.
“Absolutely,” the Master returned. “He’s the one who told me Bartlett was going after you. He overheard Felix bragging about his father coming to the station ahead of me to meet you.”
“So why did you bring him along?” Polly asked.
“Like you, he was most concerned about my safety,” the Master told her. “He insisted we flee the territory to get away from Bartlett.” He laughed a soft, polite laugh. “I brought him along to show him that everything was okay. I thought seeing us together might reassure him.”
Matthew shrank back when he heard them discussing him as if he wasn’t there. But the next thing he knew, the Master offered Polly his arm and they sailed out of the train station without another thought about him.
He wasn’t sure if the Master intended his last comments as a dismissal or not, so he tagged after them to the hotel. But he made sure to keep well behind them. Even from there, he noticed the Master standing taller and straighter and more self-assured than he normally did.
The Master strutted around the village like a king surveying his domain, flipping his frock this way and that. But now—now, he held his head high like a Lord, showing the world the lady on his arm. Matthew felt quite insignificant slinking several paces behind them. And he cherished his insignificance. He groveled and worshiped the Master more fervently than ever for his lordly superiority.
At the hotel, Matthew snuck into the lobby after them to watch the Master deliver Polly to her destination. He immediately took charge of all Polly’s arrangements.
“This is Polly McLane,” he told the clerk at the front desk. “She’s checking in until Sunday morning.”
The clerk started to say, “No problem, Mr. Buchanan,” but he checked himself when he saw the Master’s expression and mumbled a mod
est, “Yes, sir,” instead.
The clerk entered Polly’s name in the ledger. Polly reached for the handbag hanging from her elbow, but the Master laid his hand on her arm. “Stop. You keep your money to yourself. I’ll take care of everything.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Polly told him. “I’m quite prepared to take care of myself until Sunday.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” the Master insisted. “Now that you’re here, you’re my responsibility.” He turned back to the clerk. “You can charge all her expenses to me.”
“Yes, sir,” the clerk chirped back.
“I want you to give her the room on the second floor at the back,” the Master ordered. “The one with the double doors overlooking the church yard. She needs a large room with plenty of air and light.”
“Yes, sir,” the clerk parroted.
“And I want you to order a hearty supper for her,” the Master continued. “and a hot bath this evening.”
“Yes, sir,” the clerk replied.
“Really,” Polly whispered to the Master. “This isn’t at all necessary. I can look after myself.”
“Nonsense,” the Master replied. “Nothing is too good for you, and you’re going to be my wife, so I’ll pay for everything. You’ve traveled a long way to get here, and after the ordeal you just had, you need to relax and settle your nerves. You have a big day on Sunday. You should reserve your energies for that.”
“I’ll be quite all right,” Polly insisted.
“I only wish,” the Master continued. “that I could stay here with you. But it wouldn’t be seemly. You need someone to protect you, just in case Bartlett comes back.”
The clerk’s head shot up at the mention of Bartlett’s name, but he said nothing. He took his keys from the hook behind the desk and came around to them. “If you’ll follow me, Miss, I’ll show you to your room.”
“And one more thing,” the Master ordered. “I’d like someone to go around to the train station and pick up Miss McLane’s luggage. You can bring it here, and I’ll pick it up Sunday afternoon.”
“Very well, sir,” the clerk replied.
The Master pressed Polly’s hand. “I’ll leave you now. You must take care of yourself until I see you again. I only regret we can’t spend more time together between now and Sunday.” His eyes flew open at a sudden thought. “Why don’t we have dinner together tomorrow night?”
“Do you really think so?” Polly exclaimed. “I would love that.”
“Wonderful,” the Master replied. “I’ll come here tomorrow evening and we’ll have dinner together.”
“Oh, thank you!” Polly cried. “Thank you for everything.”
“Think nothing of it,” the Master returned. “It’s the least I can do. You must let me know if there is anything more I can do for you before Sunday morning.” He turned back to the clerk, who waited for Polly at the foot of the stairs. “If Miss McLane requires anything at all, you’re to charge it to me immediately. You’re to spare no expense for her comfort. Do you understand me?”
The clerk bowed his head. “I understand perfectly, sir.”
The Master stared into Polly’s eyes and brought her hand up to his lips. “Until tomorrow, my dear lady. Please be well until then.”
The Master whisked out of the hotel.
Chapter 5
Matthew shadowed the Master out into the street. He expected the Master to send him home, but he didn’t stop walking until they turned the corner by the elm trees that surrounded the church yard. He stopped once he passed out of sight of the main street.
The Master gazed up through the trees. The hotel roof rose up above the limbs of the trees, and through the branches, Matthew saw the railing outside the double doors of the back room. A lace curtain drifted with the breeze inside the doors.
Matthew thought the Master had either forgotten about him or was deliberately ignoring him, wishing he’d go away and mind his own business. He jumped in surprise when the Master spoke to him.
“She’ll be up there by now,” the Master murmured. “The clerk will leave here there and go to arrange the delivery of her luggage. She might come out to the rail to get some air. She’s had a terrible shock. And after her long journey, she’ll be over-wrought. The poor thing!”
Matthew said nothing. Was the Master talking to himself? He had never done that before.
But the Master answered Matthew’s question by facing him with piercing eyes. “I want you to do something for me, Matthew.”
“Anything, sir,” Matthew squeaked.
“I want you to keep an eye on Polly for me,” the Master told him. “I would stand here all day and all night until Sunday morning if I could. But I can’t. It wouldn’t be proper. If anyone saw me here, it would look bad for Polly.”
Matthew didn’t understand much of what he said. He only heard the Master give him an important commission to guard Polly in his place.
“You can keep an eye on her with no one suspecting anything,” the Master continued. “I want you to tell me if Bartlett comes back. If he does, I want you to come and get me. If it’s night or day, it doesn’t matter. I want to know the instant Bartlett comes near her.”
“Yes, sir,” Matthew replied.
The Master let his hand fall onto Matthew’s shoulder. Matthew thought he might swoon then and there, but he managed to keep himself upright and gaze up into the Master’s face.
“I know I can count on you,” the Master told him. “I’m entrusting Polly’s safety to you. You know what Noah Bartlett is capable of, so you know the danger Polly’s in. I’m counting on you to let me know if Bartlett tries anymore funny stuff with her. Do you understand?”
Matthew nodded in dumb adoration.
The Master patted him on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.” He looked back up toward the hotel room. “You’ll be able to stand here and see her when she‘s in her room. You’ll be able to follow her without being seen if she comes out. She won’t be expecting anyone to follow her, and no one else who sees you around town will suspect anything, either.”
Matthew looked up at the double doors of the hotel room. Sure enough, as they watched, Polly came to the doors and pushed them open. She stood at the rail, gazing down at the elm trees that sheltered them from her view. All she could see from up there was the church yard.
“I’m going home now,” the Master told Matthew. “I’ll be there if you need to find me.”
The Master didn’t wait for Matthew to reply, but flipped his skirt and strode off. Matthew waited and watched behind the elm trees until the sun went down and the moon came up. But Polly never appeared at the rail again.
How was he supposed to know if she went out? He couldn’t see her window and the front of the hotel at the same time. He started to become cold and hungry. Did the Master intend for him to stand out here all night? What if Noah Bartlett came after Polly in the middle of the night, when Matthew was asleep at home?
He thought the matter over. The stars came out and a cool breeze rustled the elm trees. A lamp came on in Polly’s room. Then, in the deepening darkness, it went out. She had gone to bed. Now what should he do?
He finally made up his mind and trotted home to his own plate of supper and his own bed. He lay awake, thinking over the assignment the Master had given him. The Master said before he was grateful to Matthew. If only he could fulfill this task, too. How grateful the Master would be to him then!
He shuddered with pride at the thought of it. But how to accomplish it? This was, by far, the most difficult and complicated assignment the Master had ever given him. Learning lessons, reading and calculating mathematical equations—those were easy compared to this.
And no one feared the Bartlett family more than Matthew. He’d avoided them so diligently all these years out of sheer terror of their enmity. He would have to keep this commission from the Master a carefully guarded secret. If Felix found out, Matthew was as good as dead.
He took a long time to fall as
leep that night. He still wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing by leaving the hotel to come home to bed. The Master might be displeased with him. He would have to get out there behind the elm trees before dawn tomorrow morning to make sure he arrived before Polly woke up. He’d have to keep her in sight all day—no matter what.
Chapter 6
The next morning found Matthew at his station, hugging his shoulders to warm himself before the sun came up. He wore a knapsack full of food to keep himself going throughout the day, because he couldn’t keep running home for meals. The Master wouldn’t approve.
Polly came out to the rail in the morning after breakfast. Then she disappeared for a while. Matthew was just getting bored and looking around for something to amuse himself when a sudden thought came to him. Polly might go out after breakfast.
He raced around the building just in time to see her stepping out of the hotel.
She strolled around town with her handbag over her arm, her hazelnut curls swinging back and forth behind her. Matthew darted from one corner to the next, following her but staying out of sight. Polly strolled from shop to shop, window shopping here, going inside to buy something there, and then moving on.
Matthew didn’t keep track of where she went or what she was doing. He only kept her continually in sight and watched out of the corner of his eye for Noah Bartlett. But Noah never appeared. Maybe he’d had his fun with Polly and the Master and forgotten all about them. Maybe all this worry about Polly’s safety was for nothing, and the wedding Sunday morning would go off undisturbed.
Then they could all breathe a sigh of relief and go on with their lives. Wouldn’t that be a blessed outcome?
Polly eventually headed back toward the hotel. She turned a corner from the dairy and Matthew followed her. But when he rounded the same corner, he ran face first into Polly standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She was waiting for him.
Mail Order Bride: The Master: A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Mail Order Brides) Page 2