by Jody Hedlund
She was naturally affectionate, even if she was slightly spoiled and strong-willed at times. He’d been around enough rich women to know Victoria Cole hadn’t let her beauty and wealth make her prideful. She had a freshness and innocence that was refreshing. She seemed to see the positive in every situation.
But that was the problem. She was too trusting, too sweet. She’d formed a deep attachment with Arch. And she also had friendly relationships with all the household servants. In fact, she treated them more like family than paid help. With her kind and generous spirit, he’d quickly surmised that she would grow attached to him too.
Sure, she was engaged and would be married in sixteen days. Nevertheless, he’d deemed it necessary to keep high walls between himself and Victoria. The best way to build a barricade was to hurt someone. Then the person usually erected a wall fast and furiously, just as Victoria had done. Although truthfully, her wall was flimsy. She’d had a hard time maintaining her “I’m the master and you’re my servant” charade.
“I honestly don’t think you’ll need to pack anything else beside that nightgown,” Theresa said. She was sitting on the settee next to Victoria and had been a constant companion during the shopping expeditions.
“Of course I’ll need more than the nightgown. I’m planning to do a great deal of sightseeing and shopping in all of the places I missed last time I was in Italy.”
“With that nightgown, I’m sure Nathaniel will be doing lots of sightseeing too,” Theresa said with a wicked glimmer.
Victoria gasped and slapped playfully at Theresa’s arm. “Hush!” Even though Victoria was smiling, from the way her eyes widened and her pupils dilated, Tom could tell she was mortified by her friend’s comment.
Tom had to admit, the comment unnerved him too. Not because he didn’t like the thought of Nathaniel looking at Victoria. No, on the few occasions Victoria had spent time with Nathaniel, Tom had liked the guy. He was genuine and decent. Frivolous. Flighty. Spoiled. But honest. And after he married Victoria, he’d have every right to feast upon her beauty. In that nightgown.
Okay. Maybe he was unnerved a little by the thought of another man looking at Victoria. He supposed his overprotective nature was coming out more than usual because she was so young.
Whatever the case, the real reason he was uncomfortable was because he wasn’t accustomed to the brashness some American women from the high society displayed. Most of the European royalty he accompanied were proper and polite, at least in public.
Madame Bisseau’s frown indicated that she hadn’t found Theresa’s comment amusing either. The French woman finished folding the silk nightgown and gently placed it with several other items in a flat box.
Through the front shop window, Tom caught sight of Nathaniel climbing down from a bright yellow phaeton. It was new. From the condition of the tires, Tom could tell that it had only been driven a couple of times.
Nathaniel was impeccably attired, as usual. He wore a light gray pin-striped suit accented with a bow tie and top hat. He cut a dashing figure in his finely tailored outfit, and he had a carefree, fun-loving look about him, especially with his wind-tossed sandy brown hair.
Nathaniel inspected the side of his phaeton, took out a handkerchief, and polished a spot. He nodded and smiled to three young ladies who flirted with him as they walked past. But his attention on them was only fleeting. Tom couldn’t fault Nathaniel for his devotion to Victoria. Even when other women vied for him, he had eyes only for his bride-to-be.
As Nathaniel proceeded toward Madame Bisseau’s salon and opened the door, Tom surveyed outside the store to make sure nothing had changed since they’d arrived and that no one was lurking nearby. No strange carriages. No lingering passers-by. No oddities.
He stepped back inside just as Victoria stood and smiled at Nathaniel. She held out her hands to him in a welcoming gesture. Although her eyes lit up at the sight of him, there was something missing from her expression. Tom couldn’t name what it was, but he’d noticed her reaction to Nathaniel before.
And he’d noted Theresa’s too. Victoria’s friend was in love with the man. Although she kept her feelings hidden from Victoria, she couldn’t hide them from Tom. He’d noticed the sideway glances filled with longing, the rapt attention whenever Nathaniel spoke, the extra long laughter at Nathaniel’s jokes that weren’t funny.
At least Theresa had the decency to make the best of the situation. Tom could tell she was sharp. She’d apparently realized early enough that Nathaniel was thoroughly enamored with Victoria. Half the time he was so busy fawning over Victoria that he forgot Theresa was even there. Victoria was kind enough to draw her friend in and keep her from being left out.
“Are you ready for our lunch at Delmonico’s, darling?” Nathaniel had taken off his hat and was raking his fingers through his hair and tossing the wayward strands back.
“I’m very ready.” Victoria cast a sideways glance at the box Madame Bisseau was now tying closed with a silk ribbon. Her eyes rounded with embarrassment, and she quickly grabbed Nathaniel’s hand and began to propel him toward the door.
“You’ll be the first to ride in my new phaeton,” Nathaniel said with a grin.
“She can’t ride in a phaeton,” Tom said.
Nathaniel halted abruptly, which in turn forced Victoria to stop. The excitement that had been playing across his features dropped into disappointment.
“With the open top, it’s too dangerous.” Tom offered the explanation before anyone could protest. The anonymous letter Mr. Cole had received yesterday might not mean anything. It had implied vague threats to the Cole family if Mr. Cole didn’t back out of a particular railroad deal he was negotiating. Even if the threats were empty and had no connection to Arch’s attack, Tom was trained to stay on high alert regardless.
“Delmonico’s isn’t that far away.” Victoria proceeded to tug Nathaniel toward the door. “I daresay a little ride won’t compromise my safety.”
“Maybe a little ride in Central Park after lunch.” Tom had learned to always be strict first. If he said “no” right away, then his charge was usually more open to his subsequent suggestion.
Victoria paused as though considering what she believed to be his compromise but was actually his plan all along. “Very well.” She sniffed in her attempt to be arrogant toward him. “But I shall take the ride with Nathaniel alone.”
He’d suspected as much. “We’ll see how busy the park is.”
She hesitated, nodded curtly, and turned to Theresa, who was trailing after the couple. “Theresa, will you ride with Nathaniel to Delmonico’s? I hate for him to be alone with his fun new toy.”
Nathaniel smiled down at Victoria. “You’re so sweet, darling. But I’ll be all right.”
“I don’t mind,” Theresa said. She stepped forward and slipped her arm through Nathaniel’s boldly. “We can’t let you have all the pleasure to yourself. You need to share some with the rest of us.”
Nathaniel’s eyes took on an excited glimmer again, but he attempted to dampen his enthusiasm as he looked at Victoria. “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. I want you to have fun.”
Nathaniel grinned, showing off his carefree charm, which Tom guessed appealed to young women. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?” Nathaniel said to Theresa.
Her eyes reflected eagerness. But Tom gave her credit for responding sarcastically and hiding her enthusiasm. “Just try not to kill me.”
It was Victoria’s turn now to trail behind the couple. As Nathaniel joked with Theresa, Victoria beamed at the two. Apparently Victoria didn’t think she had anything to worry about between her fiancé and her best friend. Tom hoped she was right.
A few minutes later, Tom was settled across from Victoria in the carriage. They followed the phaeton where Nathaniel and Theresa perched on the high open bench and were laughing and talking. Victoria hadn’t seemed to notice that Theresa’s arm was still linked with Nathaniel’s. Or if she did
, she wasn’t bothered by it.
As a matter of fact, Victoria wasn’t bothered by too much when it came to Nathaniel. She had none of the passionate emotions one would expect from a woman on the cusp of her wedding.
The crazy spinning in his mind came to standstill. “You don’t love him.”
“What?” Victoria’s eyes jerked to his. She appeared startled, much like a cornered doe.
“You’ll run away and leave him standing at the altar just like you did your last fiancé.”
The golden brown flickered with confusion. “How do you know about that?”
“Who doesn’t? Both of your previous broken engagements made the newspaper. Jacob Anthony Ratcliff in December of ’73 after your debutante party. And Samuel Hildebrandt in ’74.”
She didn’t contradict him. In fact, her expression told him she was indeed guilty.
“At least with Jacob you had the decency to break it off well before the wedding day. But poor Samuel.”
She started to speak but clamped her lips closed.
“Don’t you think you owe it to Nathaniel to end your relationship before it’s too late?” Especially, to avoid complications. Samuel, fiancé number two, had stalked Victoria for months after the called-off wedding until she’d gone to Europe. Even if Samuel wasn’t stalking her anymore, the ex-fiancé had been at two parties that she had attended. And it was clear the man was still in love with her.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she finally said. “Please refrain from saying anything else.”
“So you’re planning to go through with a loveless marriage?”
“Of course I am.”
He quirked his brow. He’d caught her.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going through with the marriage. What I meant to say is that it’s not loveless.”
“Then you love him?”
She started to nod.
“Be honest.”
“I feel a great deal of affection for Nathaniel,” she said slowly, as though weighing each word. “He’s good and sweet and generous.”
“So is my mother, but I’m not marrying her.”
“He loves me,” she rushed, her voice rising a notch to make her point.
“And my mother loves me.”
She released an exasperated breath, forming her lips into a pout that he’d found strangely pretty the past couple of weeks. “I’m marrying him. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. And that’s that.”
“Or maybe he’s everything your father ever wanted.”
The carriage bumped over a rut jostling her. But she rapidly regained her composure and lifted her chin. “I chose Nathaniel. My father had nothing to do with it.”
Tom shrugged. Let her think what she wanted. He knew, however, that Mr. Cole wasn’t the type of man to play roulette with his daughter’s choice of a marriage partner. Tom had no doubt Henry Cole had been intimately involved in each of the negotiations long before Victoria had accepted the proposals.
“Maybe you’ve been picking the wrong kind of men.”
“And I suppose you’re the expert on the type of man I need?”
“Maybe.”
“There you go being arrogant again and thinking you know everything about everyone.”
He bit back a smile. He was enjoying this spar with her far too much. These were the kinds of heart-to-heart conversations he was supposed to avoid if he wanted the wall to stay up between them, though. He crossed his arms and settled into the thick seat cushion. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, would it? The clatter of the horse hoofs on the cobblestone and the rattle of a nearby omnibus drifted in through the half-open window, bringing with it the waft of the delicacies served in the exotic restaurants they were passing.
He lobbed out his answer and waited for her to explode. “I know more than you think.”
She sat forward and fisted her hands in her lap as though to keep from reaching out and slapping him. “You might be smart about a lot of things. But you certainly don’t have me all figured out, even if you think you do.”
“You’re afraid of getting married.”
“That’s not true.”
“I can see the fear in your eyes.”
Her long lashes fell down and veiled her soul, but not before he’d glimpsed the truth.
He was right. He’d seen fear in her eyes from time to time. And he realized now that the fear wasn’t related to the attack. He should have guessed it had to do with her upcoming marriage. The signs had all been there—running away from two other fiancés, her shallow relationship with Nathaniel, a lack of enthusiasm.
Sure, she spent most her time planning for the wedding and honeymoon. And the last few days she’d been busy packing for the move to Newport. But all of it was a convenient distraction. A way to keep busy. So she didn’t have to think about the real issue. She was afraid of getting married.
But why? What drove her fear?
It wasn’t his place to ask. In fact, the entire conversation was out of place. But now that he’d started it, he needed to finish. “You should tell him,” he said, trying to gentle his tone.
Her lashes swept up, revealing her eyes again. This time they were luminous, the golden flecks mesmerizing, the vulnerability magnetic. “Tell him what?”
“That you’re afraid.” Tom held her gaze, hoping to infuse her with the courage she would need to face the task. “He’s a decent guy. He’ll understand.”
The carriage was slowing, and the surroundings told him they were nearing Delmonico’s.
“If you admit your fear to yourself and to him, then maybe this time you can face it instead of running away.” Even as he spoke the words to her, they hit him in the gut. He could dole out advice. But he wasn’t great at following it. He’d been running away from his past for ten years.
The rolling wheels jolted to a halt. Outside the carriage, Nathaniel’s voice was followed by Theresa’s laughter. The heart-to-heart moment with Victoria was over. But neither of them moved to open the door.
Finally, she surprised him by doing the last thing he expected. She reached across the carriage and took his hand into hers, folding her silky gloved fingers around his. She smiled up at him with the same kind of sweetness he’d seen her dole out to Theresa and Nathaniel and her parents. “Thank you, Mr. Cushman. Maybe I’ve misjudged you. Maybe you’re a nicer man than you’ve led me to believe.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m still the mean guy.”
Her smile widened. “I don’t believe you.”
“Just wait. You’ll hate me again soon enough.”
She released his hand and reached for the door. “You might act tough. But you can’t fool me any longer. Underneath you’re a big softy just like Arch.”
“Definitely not a softy.”
She winked. “I promise I won’t give away your secret.”
He was tempted to chuckle but held it back. Instead, he opened the door and poked his head out. He was back on duty. He’d do best to remember to stay that way, to keep the walls up, no matter how easy it would be to tear them down.
Chapter 5
The bowls of fresh cut delphiniums on each of the elaborately set tables matched the color of the evening sky overhead. The scent of roasting scallops and lobster and oysters made Victoria’s mouth water in anticipation of the feast to come.
She loved Newport in the summer. She always had, even as a little girl when she’d built sandcastles, waded in the cold saltwater in her bare feet, and collected shells. Even now, as an adult, she enjoyed the months spent in the little seaside town visiting with friends, sailing aboard yachts, and having dinner parties on the beach.
“Your mother always does a beautiful job with her parties.” She allowed her shoulder to brush against Nathaniel’s arm.
“I told her to make this extra special for you,” he replied.
Guests mingled among the tables and along the shore of the private beach that belonged to the Winthrops. Their summer cottage
sat back a fair distance from the water’s edge. Nicknamed The Arbor, the Italianate-style villa was three stories high and built of stately granite. A manicured garden with a center fountain graced the back of the house and provided a scenic ocean overlook. From the sandy shoreline, the house and garden were picturesque, perhaps even lovelier than the Cole cottage down the beach.
Victoria waved at Theresa, who was walking next to Phillip Smith. Although she was nodding at something he was saying, she was staring at Victoria and Nathaniel. Without waving in return, Theresa flipped her attention to Phillip and spoke to him as though he were the only one on the beach and the man just for her. Victoria could only pray he was.
She inhaled a deep, contented breath. The sea air was warm but pleasant, not yet containing the humidity that would come later in the summer. “Your mother is wonderful.”
“That’s because she adores you just as much as I do.”
She smiled up at Nathaniel. “I’m not sure anyone can adore me quite as much as you.”
“You’re right.” He tucked her hand more securely in the crook of his arm. He needn’t worry. She wasn’t going anywhere. Even though the tide was rising and the waves were sliding further up the wet sand toward them, she wasn’t ready to end their stroll and rejoin the others.
He leaned into her. “Have I told you yet tonight how much I love you?” His tone was low and intimate. It should have filled her with wonder and excitement. Instead, unwelcome trepidation crept into her stomach and nibbled at the lining.
After Mr. Cushman had told her she was afraid of getting married, she’d wanted to deny it. But she’d finally grudgingly admitted to herself that perhaps he was partly right. So she’d done as he’d suggested and had told Nathaniel she was having a few wedding jitters. Of course, Nathaniel had soothed her and told her that every bride-to-be was nervous, that it was perfectly normal, and that everything would work out just fine.