by Dawn Brower
William stepped a little closer to her and placed his hand on her cheek. She turned into it, basking in the warmth the enveloped her face. “If I’m never going to see you again, I’d like something to remember you by.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It was a brief kiss, but it sent shivers down her spine. Victoria wanted to kiss him again and again and again. The feel of his lips on hers made her want more, and she would give anything to stay in this one moment forever. For a brief moment, she was able to pretend they could be a normal couple and they had a chance at a real relationship… But that would never happen. Love wasn’t for them, and it was time that she accepted that. The kiss though—it changed so much and so little at the same time.
How could she ever forget him now? Who was she kidding? Victoria never had a chance of erasing William from her mind. She loved him, and there was no preventing that.
He lifted his head and then turned on his heels, quietly walking away from her. Her heart shattered as if it had broken in so many pieces there was no putting it back together again. She held her breath. Was he really going to listen to her and leave? Didn’t he want to fight for her, for them, for what they could have together?
He did none of that. William respected her wishes, and she adored him all the more for it. Victoria wanted to scream. Demand he come back and hold her in his arms. She wanted him to reassure her that everything would be all right, even though she knew it never would be again. She’d made her choice, and she had to live with it.
A tear fell from her cheek. Victoria wiped it away quickly and started the walk to the hospital. It was time to move on and do her best not to think about what might have been with William. Though she had pushed him away, she still hoped one day they would find their way back to each other again. Victoria only prayed, on that day, if it should come, it wouldn’t be too late for them.
Part II
Post War
Chapter 4
November 1921
It was a brisk autumn afternoon, and the chill had found a way to seep into the room Victoria had been assigned to. She’d come to visit her friend Catherine, the Marchioness of Seabrook. They had been friends since their time serving as nurses in France during the Great War. It had been three years since the end of that war. It had been much longer than that since Catherine had returned to England with her family. Somehow, they had all survived, but there were still scars, both visible and undetectable, that each one of them carried.
Victoria made a point to visit with Catherine as often as possible. It was a reminder of what she’d lost and what she’d gained from her part in the war. In a different time and place, she and Catherine might never have formed a friendship, and she might never have met…
She shook that thought before it took root in her head. It was best if she didn’t let her mind wander to him or say his name even inside her mind. Victoria didn’t know what had happened to him since their last encounter. She still had his letters, but she kept them buried in a box that was stored in a trunk. The temptation to bring them out and reminisce about what could have been sometimes proved too much. She gave into reading them more often than not.
Maybe she should toss them away or burn them. It might be the only way she would finally forget pushing him away. She regretted that more than she could possibly say. Not that she’d even try to explain her actions. No words existed that could do the pain she’d caused herself justice.
Victoria sighed and slipped her shoes on. She should go downstairs and join Catherine in the sitting room for afternoon tea. The Duke and Duchess of Weston were scheduled to arrive, and may have already done so. She’d met the duchess once and didn’t know much about her. She hoped to change that during this visit. Victoria liked Julian, the Duke of Weston. He’d been there through some of the worst parts of the war, and Victoria was glad he found someone to love. There were parts of their story that she hadn’t quite understood, but that didn’t matter. The important thing was that they found their way back to each other. Though a small part of her hoped that the duchess shared a little of her story when they became more acquainted.
She slid out of her room and headed to the sitting room. When she walked in, Victoria found Catherine and the duchess already inside. They were both on the settee near the window. So the duke and duchess had arrived while she had been hiding in her room.
Catherine glanced up and smiled. “I’m glad you have decided to join us.”
“There is no other place I’d rather be.” She met Catherine’s gaze, then turned and nodded at the duchess. “Your Grace.” Then she sat in a chair that flanked the settee.
“No need for formalities,” the duchess said. “Please call me Brianne. I never thought I’d have a title and didn’t really want it. Julian wasn’t supposed to be the duke, but war made decisions for the both of us we can’t change.”
Victoria understood that more than she wanted to admit. “It was a terrible time.”
“That it was,” Catherine said solemnly. “But we survived and we have many blessings to celebrate.” She turned to Brianne. “Doesn’t the American’s have a day of Thanksgiving you celebrate in November?”
“We do.” She grinned. “My family are probably going to sit down and have a generous feast in a few days. I must admit I miss spending time with them. The whole family usually gets together at Christmas here in England, but this year we’re going to do it in South Carolina at Lilimar. Many of our family along with our extended members haven’t been to the plantation. It’ll be a nice change. I might not be able to see them for Thanksgiving, but at least I can go home for Christmas.” She wrinkled her nose. “There was a time I couldn’t leave Lilimar fast enough. It’s a bit odd how my perspective changed now that I’ve been living here in England for many years. The nostalgia of where I grew up has taken root and won’t let go of me.”
Victoria didn’t know if she could relate to that. Her father hadn’t been a kind man, but he hadn’t been mean either. He’d been…indifferent. Her father had taken more interest in his flock than he had his own daughter. His identity began and ended with being a vicar. He’d thrown himself into his work and left her to figure out her own life. She never knew her mother. She’d died when she was a baby, and her father never told her anything about her. He refused to talk about her.
At sixteen, she’d decided to do something fulfilling and studied to be a nurse. Then when war broke out she’d done her part there too. Now, a decade later, she was on her own. Her father had passed away while she was in France and left her a small inheritance. There was no home to go back to. She maintained a small apartment in London and worked in a local doctor’s surgery to supplement her inheritance. “When do you travel?” Victoria asked. A small part of her was jealous of the duchess and her family. Victoria wished she belonged to—someone. She had such a lonely life. Sometimes friends weren’t enough, and her heart ached to have someone truly love her.
“We leave in a sennight,” she said. “We will travel to London after we depart Seabrook and take a steamship the day after we return to the Weston townhouse.”
“I’ve traveled through France as a nurse during the war,” Victoria said. “But I’ve never been anywhere other than there and parts of England. It must be nice to have grown up in America.” There was a touch of whimsy in her voice as she spoke.
“You should travel with us,” Brianne said. “There’s more than enough room at Lilimar. We can even stay in New York for a little bit before we travel to South Carolina. My family owns a townhouse near Gramercy Park. New York has the best places for shopping. It would be nice to have you along.”
“You don’t know me…” Victoria was taken aback by her offer. Why would she want her to go to America with her? That seemed a tad odd. “Why would you trust me?”
Catherine reached over and placed her hand on Victoria’s. “My friend,” she began. “Julian knows you. I’m sure he’s spoken about you with his wife.”
“That may be true,” Victoria sa
id. “But there is no history between me and Brianne. My relationship with you, Asher, and Julian was forged in fire. She has no reason to trust me.”
“I don’t need to have the same bond with you as my husband,” Brianne said softly. “It’s enough that he trusts you, and I have complete faith in his judgment.” She smiled at Victoria. “Though, I should warn you, my family is extensive and some of them can be intimidating.”
“I don’t know…”
“Go,” Catherine encouraged her. “See a little more of the world. It might be something you look back on with fond memories later in life. I’d hate for you to have haunted ones to hold on to.”
Victoria still wasn’t certain that she should go, but Catherine might be right. She had nothing meaningful in her life. Every day she went to work, came home, somehow managed to eat. Mundane didn’t even begin to describe her life. Perhaps it was time she made a change. If she was going to be gone for a lengthy amount of time, she’d have to make arrangements. The doctor she worked with might not be amenable to her leaving. If she took Brianne up on her offer, she might not have a position to return to. It was a tough decision to make. “I’ll need more information before I make a decision.”
“That’s reasonable,” Brianne told her. “Why don’t I tell you what a Marsden Christmas involves, and if you have any questions after that, I’ll answer them.”
“All right,” Victoria agreed. She sat back against the chair and waited for the duchess to speak. “Go on.”
“My family has always been about keeping close ties. My grandfather Thor…” She was quiet a moment. “He was the glue that held us together. When he died, it devastated us all and we made the decision to honor his wishes and maintain the traditions he started. It is our way of honoring his memory.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Catherine said. “I might take that to heart and start some for our own family.”
Victoria had to agree. If she had a family of her own, she’d want to have traditions to pass on throughout the generations. “What does all that entail?”
“We all agreed that we would spend the weeks leading to Christmas and through the New Year together, or at least part of it. We used to alternate between Marsden House and Huntly Manor. When the Christmas tradition started, it was only my grandparents, and they brought my Uncle’s friend, the Duke of Huntly, into the mix. He was an orphan and had no one else. Uncle Liam brought him home from school and he spent every holiday with them from that point on.”
She stopped talking and took a deep breath. That was a lot of information, and it still didn’t tell her too much. “How many people attend Christmas with your family?” Victoria had a feeling that it was larger than the Marsden’s and the Duke of Huntly.
“The Duke and Duchess of Huntly, their children. My cousin Angeline married their son, the Marquess of Severn. Emilia…” She clicked her tongue on the top of her mouth. “I think she might find herself married into the family at some point, but we shall see.” Brianne grinned. “My other cousins, Alex and Drew, will accompany their parents, the Viscount and Viscountess of Torrington.”
“So that’s…” Victoria tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “Eight people.”
“Those are the ones traveling from England,” Brianne said. “That doesn’t include me, Julian, and our daughter. Then, in America, we have my parents and my brother.” She tapped her hand on the table. “That brings the total to fourteen. The Duchess of Huntly’s brother—Marchese d’Bari—his wife, and their children will probably attend as well. They sometimes are not able to come. If they do, that’s another five.” She met her gaze. “I realize that is a lot of people you don’t know. But I would love to have you there.”
She’d had to deal with a lot of strangers as a nurse. That part didn’t bother her so much. It was the uncertainty she’d face once she returned to England. The rest of it she would have no trouble handling. Should she go? Victoria sighed. No risk meant there would be no gain. Perhaps it was time to throw caution against the wind. “I would like to go.” That had been harder to say than she thought it would be.
“Excellent.” Brianne clapped her hands together. “Then I’ll wire my parents to have a room prepared for you. If you’d like, you can travel back to London with us as well.”
That would probably be a good idea. The duke and duchess would have a private train car. It would be faster and more comfortable to take advantage of her offer. “I’d like that.”
A maid wheeled a teacart along with cakes and tiny sandwiches. She stopped it in front of the settee. “Would you like me to pour?”
“No,” Catherine said. “We can serve ourselves.”
The maid curtsied. “Will there be anything else my lady?”
Catherine shook her head. “That will be all.”
“Now that we have settled everything,” Catherine said. “Let’s have tea and enjoy the afternoon.” She smiled at Victoria. “I’m glad you’re going with Brianne. I truly believe it will be good for you.” Catherine always said strange and cryptic things. She’d get a look in her eye and suggest something. Somehow, her advice always seemed to be sound and had saved her life a couple of times. Victoria felt good about the decision. She took the cup of tea Catherine handed her, sipped it, and settled back into her chair. In a week, she’d be on a ship bound for America. A part of her couldn’t help wondering if she’d cross paths with her spy. He was American. It could happen…
Chapter 5
December 1921
A cool breeze washed over William Collins as he gestured for his horse to trot along the fence line of Lilimar. He loved the plantation he’d grown up on in South Carolina. It would belong solely to him one day though he hoped that would be years down the road. In order for him to inherit, he’d have to lose both his parents, and that wasn’t something he desired to happen. He loved them both. It was bad enough his sister had married a damn duke, so he saw her once a year. He missed Brianne. She could be as annoying as a sister, but he loved her.
The hooves pounded against the ground and echoed around him. He turned to glance in the direction of the sound. A chestnut horse with a woman rider galloped toward him. A dark braid bounced across the back of her dark blue riding jacket. As she closed the distance between them, she slowed her horse to a walk and then pulled the reins to come to a stop next to him.
“Hello, Mother,” he greeted her.
Lilliana Marsden Collins grinned at him. Her cheeks were reddened from the cool wind blowing against her face, and her blue eyes shined bright. “I thought I might find you out here. Why aren’t you waiting back at the house? The family will start arriving today.”
He slid his gaze down to her legs. “Aren’t you concerned that you might scandalize them with your attire?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “They’re all used to my wild ways. Something as insignificant as a woman wearing trousers won’t even faze them.”
William shook his head. He shouldn’t be surprised. His mother had always thumbed her nose at convention. Why would she change something fundamental about herself now? “I had to ride along the perimeter and check the fence line. We are moving a large part of our horse stock to this pasture later this week. It wouldn’t be good if we lost a few to a damaged fence.”
It was an excuse. He could have sent one of the plantation workers to check the fence line. William needed some time to himself. Ever since he returned home after the war, finding time alone had become essential. There was a certain amount of peace in his solitude. It helped him to find his purpose again and a way to move forward when everything became overwhelming. His family had no idea how difficult it was for him. He’d been through too much when he was a spy in the war, and he’d gotten too good at keeping secrets. He didn’t know how to be the open person he used to be.
Sometimes, William didn’t even recall that man who’d willing gone into war. The man who’d grown up on Lilimar and had one goal. To make Lilimar a plantation that would last throughout the a
ges. That seemed so petty now. He focused his attention on his mother. It was how he kept his pretense going. If he didn’t give his family a reason for concern, then he didn’t have to explain anything to them. William wanted to avoid that at all costs.
His mother sighed. “You work too hard. We have workers to take care of simple tasks like this.”
“I like riding on our property.” That was the truth. He did enjoy every part of Lilimar. “I don’t see anything wrong with working.” He lifted a brow. “I seem to recall a time you had no trouble taking an active role in the running of the plantation. When did that change?”
“It hasn’t,” she said. “I’m not the one who’s different.” Her voice was soft and filled with concern. He must not have done as good a job at hiding his turmoil as he’d believed.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” he told her and turned his gaze past her. He couldn’t look directly into her eyes and say that. “Shouldn’t we be heading back? Isn’t that why you came looking for me?”
“Actually,” she began. “Finding you was a happy accident. I was riding for me.” She patted her horse affectionately. “But you are correct. We should go back. I’d like to have a nice visit with my granddaughter.”
“Vivian will be happy to see you,” he said. Everyone spoiled Brianne’s daughter, and she already showed signs of mimicking the females in their family—a hellion in training. William loved his niece and wouldn’t mind spending some quality time with her too.
“It’s too bad I don’t have any other grandchildren.” His mother gave him a pointed look. “Do you ever plan on settling down and having a family of your own?”
He had once. The one female who held his heart and he loved beyond all reason had kicked him out of her life. He wished he could have done things differently. There was no going back though. William couldn’t turn back time and tell Victoria he loved her. She’d made her decision, and he’d respected it. He couldn’t tell his mother that. She still had hope for him, and he didn’t want to kill it. “Life leads us down unexpected paths. There are no guarantees in life. There is always a chance I’ll find the love of my life and have children.” Though he doubted the probability of that… “But I refuse to make a promise I don’t know I can keep.”