Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope)

by Jody Hedlund

  “I have a place I can take her,” Mr. Cushman said. “Where no one will find her until I’m ready for them to.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  The voices faded to whispers for several moments, and she sighed in frustration.

  “And you’ll be chaperoned?” her father’s question was barely audible, but his concern was loud enough.

  “Yes…” Mr. Cushman hesitated. “But Victoria will have to pose as my wife.”

  The suggestion was so unexpected that Victoria sucked in a breath.

  “No,” her father replied. “That’s taking things too far.”

  “An unmarried man and woman traveling together would stand out. We’d be much easier to trail for anyone who might search.”

  That made sense. If he acted as her bodyguard, his usual protective demeanor and habits would likely draw too much attention to them. But if they were disguised as a married couple. . .

  Warmth coiled in her belly at the thought. Rationally, she knew that he wouldn’t have suggested it if there were any other feasible plan. Even so, the idea of spending a month with Mr. Cushman pretending to be his wife sounded deliciously appealing.

  Another silence stretched in her father’s office, during which her mind spun with all the possibilities, particularly the thought of Mr. Cushman doting on her and calling her sweetheart and spending time with her, not in the background as her bodyguard. But always next to her side. As her husband.

  “No,” her father said again. “I don’t want to put her reputation at risk. I have nothing against you, mind you. You’re a fine young man. But if anyone discovered the plan, they could spread rumors, and then she’d ruin her chances with Nathaniel.”

  “He loves her enough to go along with it.”

  “Maybe. But I don’t think she’d be willing to go to such extreme measures.”

  “Let’s ask her.”

  “Very well,” her father responded.

  “You can come in, Victoria,” Mr. Cushman said.

  Victoria jumped. How had he known she was standing outside the door listening? She put her hand to the knob and opened the door a crack.

  Her father glanced up in surprise. “Have you been listening to our conversation?”

  “I’m sorry, Father.” She slipped through the door and closed it behind her. “I shouldn’t have. But when I heard you talking about me…”

  The familiar scent of leather and chamomile enveloped her as she stepped into the dark paneled room that served as her father’s office when he was in Newport. It was smaller than his other offices but had an enormous picture window that gave him a spectacular view of the ocean. The sun was beginning to set and had left the sky streaked with clouds of pink and purple over the calm water. A few distant sailboats and yachts were taking advantage of the calm summer evening. Even a coal barge hauled by tugs passed in the distance. A gentle breeze was blowing through the open window, bringing the sound of the constantly lapping waves.

  Her father and Mr. Cushman both stood while she crossed the room and positioned herself in the chair next to Mr. Cushman’s. When the men had reseated themselves, she folded her hands in her lap and tried to control the unexpected tremor in her fingers.

  “Would you be so kind as to inform me of the newest threat contained in the letter?” She looked pointedly at the sheet that lay on the desk in front of Father. She caught a glimpse of the scrawled handwriting before he grabbed the paper and folded it.

  Father shook his head. “I don’t want to worry you.”

  “It’s another kidnapping threat,” Mr. Cushman replied. Father scowled at Mr. Cushman, but he continued, unperturbed. “Victoria needs to know the truth about the danger she’s in. The more she knows, the better she’ll cooperate.”

  In the fading evening light, Father’s handsome face contained a haggardness that Victoria hadn’t seen there before. He studied Mr. Cushman through narrowed eyes for a moment before nodding. “Very well, Mr. Cushman. Go ahead.”

  Mr. Cushman met her gaze, and the seriousness within his dark eyes reminded her once again of the gravity of her predicament. “We believe the note is written by the man who attempted to kidnap you today. He says he’ll get you the next time. And that if anyone tries to come after you, he’ll hurt you.”

  Her ready response died on her lips. Next time? Was her attacker already planning another abduction? “Do you think he’ll try to kidnap me again tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  She appreciated that Mr. Cushman was always straightforward, never mincing words. But every once in a while, she wished he’d soften the blow. She swallowed the lump of fear forming in her throat. “If we know someone is lying in wait, then we can hire more guards.”

  “It’s not worth the risk.”

  Her father nodded in agreement. “Once I inform Nathaniel of this newest threat, he’ll gladly postpone the wedding. And in the meantime, Mr. Cushman thinks you need to go into hiding.”

  “Yes, I heard,” she said. “We’re to pretend to be married.”

  “You don’t have to do it, Victoria,” her father interjected, “if you don’t want to.”

  She tried to gauge Mr. Cushman’s feelings regarding the plan. Did he want to pose as her husband? Did he find the idea as secretly thrilling as she did?

  His expression was impassive, as usual.

  Her father gave a tired sigh and sat back in his chair. “We will attempt to minimize any repercussions that might come from such an arrangement, but you should know there is some risk of soiling your reputation.”

  Heat stole into Victoria’s cheeks, and she glanced at her tightly folded hands. “I understand, Father.”

  “Nothing will change in our working relationship,” Mr. Cushman cut in. “I’ll maintain strict and appropriate boundaries at all times.”

  “If nothing changes,” she countered, “then no one will believe we’re married.”

  Mr. Cushman hesitated only a moment before nodding in agreement. “Very well. We’ll pretend in public, but resume our regular interactions in private. I’ll still be your bodyguard and you my client.”

  Her father nodded his approval.

  “Then we shall be actors?” Victoria liked the thought. She’d always imagined it would be fun to be in a play. She was sure she could do justice to her role.

  “Yes.”

  “Where will we go?”

  “I’m not telling anyone except your father. It’ll be safer that way.” He looked at Father, who nodded his acquiescence.

  Maybe their destination would be somewhere new and exciting, like Philadelphia. She’d heard the shops there were quaint and the gardens spectacular this time of year. Perhaps they could go to the theater together. She’d take some other name like Marie or Meredith. Marie Cushman. She rolled that name around her mind and then tried Meredith Cushman. Which one sounded better?

  “You can tell me where we’ll stay,” Victoria insisted. “I promise I won’t say anything.”

  “So you’re willing to go into hiding?” Father asked.

  She nodded. “Do I need to wear a disguise? Dye my hair? Buy new clothes?”

  “No,” Mr. Cushman said. “We can’t draw any undue attention.”

  “And when shall we leave?”

  “We’ll sneak out early in the morning, before light.”

  The plan was getting more exciting by the minute. She smiled and moved to the edge of her chair. “That means I need to get busy packing my trunks.”

  “One bag.” The steel in Mr. Cushman’s voice stopped her. “With only your plainest, most serviceable clothes.”

  She started to protest, but the silent plea on Father’s face stopped her. He was asking her to trust Mr. Cushman and listen to him. “Very well.” She could always purchase new garments and accessories once they reached their destination. That would be much more fun anyway.

  Perhaps he was taking her to Boston. She’d heard there were several excellent French seamstresses there. She’d thoroughly enj
oy having some new designs.

  She rose to leave. She had a lot to do if she was to be ready by the early morning.

  “You’ll need to act normal and go to bed,” Mr. Cushman instructed. “Don’t tell anyone about our plans. Not even your mother.”

  She stopped mid-stride.

  “I’ll inform her in the morning,” Father reassured.

  “But I’d like to say goodbye.”

  “You can’t this time.” Mr. Cushman was rising from his chair.

  “She’ll understand,” Father said. “And so will Nathaniel.”

  Nathaniel. In the flurry of the new plans, she was ashamed to admit she hadn’t thought of attempting to say goodbye to him. She hadn’t considered how he might feel, not knowing her location or how she was faring.

  The slight quirk of Mr. Cushman’s eyebrow told her he’d guessed her oversight.

  She lifted her chin in defiance. “I really must say something to Nathaniel.”

  “No.” Mr. Cushman’s tone was stubborn. “Not a word.”

  “That’s not fair to him.”

  “Your father can explain everything.”

  “He deserves to hear it from me.” She pressed her hands into her hips. “At the very least, I will write him a note telling him goodbye.”

  “A short note. But without any hint of our plans.”

  “Very well.” She sniffed and crossed the room to the door.

  “Your acting career starts now,” Mr. Cushman said. “Pretend you’re still upset about the delayed wedding.”

  She stiffened at his subtle insinuation. “I won’t have to pretend. I am upset.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, she made a grand exit, closing the door heavily behind her. Fuming, she stomped down the hallway.

  That man was so irritating at times.

  She’d prove to him she could handle anything that came her way during the next month. She’d also show him she loved Nathaniel. In spite of all of the obstacles, she still planned to marry him. Eventually. Didn’t she?

  Chapter 8

  At four o-clock in the morning, Victoria was wide awake. The truth was, she’d been awake all night and hadn’t even tried to sleep. The chilled air coming off Newport Bay caused her to shiver beneath her silk shawl. Or perhaps it was the excitement of her impending adventure.

  The sky was still black with night. A few lingering stars and a half moon provided some light as she walked ahead of Mr. Cushman down the gangplank to Lady Caroline, a luxury steamboat her father often chartered. It was the only vessel lit up among the many others docked at the private marina.

  The lap of the waves and their footsteps echoing against the wooden planks seemed especially loud at the early hour. But it wouldn’t be long before the air would be alive with the sounds of area fishermen readying their sloops and heading out to catch the mackerel, butterfish, and even squid that she loved to eat every summer. The lobster fishermen would be rowing out too, in their dories, manning their boats and setting their traps.

  Mr. Cushman still hadn’t informed her of their final destination, even though she’d interrogated him on the short ride over. All she knew was that her father was waiting to say good-bye at the steamer.

  As she stepped on board, Mr. Cushman reached for her arm and steadied her. He didn’t speak but guided her with the pressure of his hand toward the lounge. Thick tapestries hung in the windows, but a sliver of light emanated from a gap where one of the curtains had been pulled slightly aside.

  The gentle sway of the boat and the rumble of the steam engine below her feet only added to her sense of adventure. Even though she was running away under dire and dangerous circumstances, and even though she knew she should be sad that she was leaving Nathaniel behind, she felt strangely free. She breathed in deeply of the damp sea air and relished its coolness against her cheeks.

  Mr. Cushman rapped twice on the lounge door and it swung open immediately to reveal her father. He pulled her into the elegantly furnished room, and Mr. Cushman quickly shut the door behind them. She was surprised to see they weren’t alone. Her father’s longtime friend Judge Baker was sitting at a glossy oak table and rose at the sight of her. Although he was older than her father, with silver hair and a short clipped beard and mustache, he was every bit as distinguished.

  “There’s been a slight change of plans,” her father said exchanging a glance with Mr. Cushman. “Would you like to tell her or shall I?”

  “Go ahead, sir.” Mr. Cushman had placed their bags on the floor near the door and now stood stiffly surveying each window and door.

  Her father cleared his throat. “We feel it’s in everyone’s best interest if you and Mr. Cushman actually get married instead of merely pretending.”

  “What?” Her knees nearly buckled at the news. She fumbled for a chair, but Mr. Cushman beat her to it. He pulled one out and helped her sit. The chandelier above the table swayed, making her feel even more off-kilter.

  “I know it’s rather strange and sudden,” her father said, “but we’ve talked this through for the past few hours and have decided that the disguise will work best if you’re married rather than pretending.”

  “But what about our futures? Nathaniel—”

  “The marriage will be in-name only,” Mr. Cushman explained and her father quickly nodded. “At the end of the month of hiding, we’ll get an annulment.”

  “Judge Baker has drawn up the terms,” her father interjected. “Mr. Cushman has already signed a legal and binding agreement that stipulates he’ll walk away from you without a making a single claim to your fortune, either now or in the future. And if he does so, he’ll be subject to prosecution.”

  She glanced from one man to the next until her gaze came to rest on Mr. Cushman’s grave face. “I don’t understand why it’s necessary to get married when our acting married would suffice.”

  Her father spoke before Mr. Cushman could. “The marriage certificate will allow Mr. Cushman to stay with you wherever you go, especially if anyone should question your liaison.”

  “But who would question it?” she persisted. She wasn’t opposed to the idea of marrying him for a month. Not really. Not if they would get an annulment at the end and no one would ever be wiser to their ruse. Even so, she didn’t understand the proposal, or the fact that her father was so willing to go along with it considering all the implications a temporary marriage could have if anyone ever found out.

  Weary lines had formed at the corners of her father’s eyes, and the angular lines in his aristocratic face were hardened with frustration. “Whoever is making these attempts on your life will be looking for a wealthy, single woman. Not someone who’s married. So if getting married temporarily will help save your life, then I’ll consider anything to protect you, Victoria.”

  But wasn’t marriage sacred? How could she enter it lightly, even for her protection?

  “Where we’re going,” Mr. Cushman added, “we have to be married or I could get myself and others into a great deal of trouble.”

  “Then let’s find a different place to hide,” she suggested.

  “We’ve considered every feasible option.” Her father sighed as though in defeat. “And Mr. Cushman’s hiding place is the best and safest of them all.”

  She was quiet for a moment, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She trusted her father’s judgment. He’d clearly agonized over how to keep her safe. If he thought a temporary marriage was the best plan, then she had to accept it. She reached out for her father’s hands and squeezed them.

  Her father pressed a kiss against her fingers. “You’re the most precious gift your mother and I have. We don’t want to lose you.”

  She smiled tenderly at him. “You know I’ll do whatever you and Mr. Cushman believe is in my best interest.”

  Before she knew what was happening, Judge Baker had pushed a piece of paper and pen in front of her. She signed her name where he indicated. Then he passed the paper to Mr. Cushman who did the same. The judge pronounc
ed them man and wife, and they were done. The whole affair took less than a minute, and she felt completely unchanged as though it had never happened.

  Her father and the judge didn’t linger. Her father shook Mr. Cushman’s hand. “Take good care of her,” he said gravely. “If you break your promise to keep everything professional and proper, you’ll wish you’d never met me.”

  “You have nothing to worry about, sir. She’s absolutely safe with me.”

  Her father wrapped her into an embrace. “Be a good girl for Mr. Cushman.”

  She mimicked Mr. Cushman’s confident assurance. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I mean it, Victoria. Promise you’ll behave, stay out of trouble, and not do anything that might compromise your reputation.”

  She kissed his cheek. “I promise.”

  By the time the sun had risen, Victoria and Mr. Cushman were well on their way into Buzzard’s Bay.

  The boat was deserted except for the captain in the pilot house and a couple of crew members below in the boiler room. “I figured it out. We’re going to Boston,” she told Mr. Cushman as she reclined on one of the cushioned deck chairs in the shade.

  He leaned against the rail watching the paddle wheel rhythmically spraying water and didn’t reply except to turn his attention upon her.

  “Shall I call you by your given name now that you’re my husband?” She batted her eyelashes at him in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  He didn’t blink an eye.

  “Since you’re so enthusiastic about it,” she said, “then I shall take that as my sign to do as I please.”

  “I think you would do as you please whether I’m enthusiastic or not.”

  She smiled.

  His hand was stuffed into his trouser pocket and from the movement, she could tell he was twisting something around and around. She’d never seen him nervous before and the thought that he might be even slightly worried about their travels today made her sit up.