by Jody Hedlund
Theresa’s smile which was directed at Nathaniel dimmed, and her attention dropped to Victoria’s hand and the engagement ring that sat on her finger. It shone brighter than a first order Fresnel lens, the biggest and brightest lighthouse lantern. Theresa’s eyes widened in surprise and her lips pursed, before she looked pointedly at Victoria’s traveling suit, at the stains and less than stellar ironing job. Victoria had no doubt Theresa recognized the gown as one she’d worn last summer season.
“You look stunning yourself…” Theresa’s voice contained the usual sarcasm. “I hope you’re not attempting to start a new fashion with your freckled nose and…” Her friend’s gaze strayed to Victoria’s simple coif, the best she’d been able to do on her own without her maid. Theresa laughed but rapidly cupped her hand over her mouth.
Suddenly Victoria saw herself the way Theresa did, rumpled, dirty, and bedraggled. “I know I look rather ridiculous, but—”
“No, darling,” Nathaniel said. “You look as beautiful as always. In fact, I was just thinking how a little color in your face suits you.”
She smiled up at him, grateful for his kindness. She loved this quality of his, the ability to put people at ease, to find the good in strained situations. It’s one of the many reasons she’d agreed to marry him, because ultimately Nathaniel Winthrop III was a worthy man. Among her circles of peers, she probably wouldn’t find anyone else more sincere and kind-hearted than he.
“Thank you, Nathaniel.” She patted his hand.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tom standing near the front door, with a view of both the street and the lobby. His thick arms were crossed, his feet braced, and his attention riveted to the street.
Was Tom having a difficult time watching her interact with Nathaniel? She hoped so.
“You’re lovely all the time,” Nathaniel assured her.
“And you’re one of the sweetest men I know.” She didn’t want to hurt him again. She’d already done it once when she’d called off the wedding. How could she do it again? And did she really want to? After all, if she couldn’t have Tom, then Nathaniel was a good option for her. She’d be happy with him. Maybe she wouldn’t experience the same attraction or depth of passion or camaraderie she had with Tom, but Nathaniel was still a wonderful man. She couldn’t go wrong with him, could she?
Victoria linked her arms through Theresa’s and Nathaniel’s. “It’s so good to see you both again. You must tell me all that I’ve missed while I’ve been gone. Every detail.”
She tugged them forward toward a small sitting area beyond the check-in counter. Nathaniel chuckled. “As anxious as I am to talk with you, there’s a steamer leaving for Falmouth at noon. If we catch it, we may just make it back to Newport today and not have to stay another night.”
“Another night?” Victoria asked. “How long have you been here?”
“We arrived yesterday.” Theresa extricated herself from Victoria’s hold and smoothed the lacy ruffles at the cuff of her three-quarter sleeve. “But both Nathaniel and I agree that one night is much too long in this provincial establishment.” Theresa glanced around with a visible shudder. “It’s positively barbaric.”
Victoria pressed a finger to her lips and peeked at the proprietor standing behind the counter. Even though he wore his spectacles at the end of his nose and appeared occupied with his ledgers, Victoria didn’t want him to hear Theresa’s complaints. The place might be antiquated, but it looked clean and well-kept. He was likely a hard-working man who could benefit from their gratitude.
Nathaniel took out his slim pocket watch and flipped open the shiny gold-plated case. “Darling, there’s plenty of time for you to freshen up and change before we need to leave.” Nathaniel closed his watch and tucked it back into his waistcoat. “If you’d like.”
“Oh, please say yes to Nathaniel.” Theresa once again eyed her gown. “I’d be entirely mortified to be seen with you wearing that thing.”
Victoria felt her smile begin to slip away. She wasn’t surprised by Theresa’s attitude. She’d probably had the same views at one time. But perhaps living for several weeks without all of the luxuries she was accustomed to had started to change her perspective. Or perhaps she had forgotten how to shrug off Theresa’s negativity.
“Of course, I’d be happy to freshen up,” Victoria started. “But I’m afraid that I’m ill-prepared. I haven’t anything else to wear.”
“Your mother anticipated your needs and sent along two traveling suits.” Theresa moved to the stairs. “They might be slightly wrinkled, but you can request that one of the hotel staff iron them for you.”
Victoria released Nathaniel and followed Theresa. “Don’t be a goose. I think I shall leave it wrinkled since I know how much you like it that way.” She had a smile ready for a witty comeback from Theresa. But Theresa didn’t turn to acknowledge her comment. If anything she stiffened and lifted her chin higher, as though Victoria didn’t deserve a reply.
Victoria’s steps faltered. Maybe Theresa was upset with her because she’d hidden so much from her this past month. She’d always confided in Theresa everything, good or bad. And she could only imagine how her friend must have felt when she’d received the news secondhand that Victoria had called off her engagement with Nathaniel and then gone into hiding.
“You may use my room, Victoria.” Nathaniel’s voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m packed and have no need of it.”
“Thank you,” she called as she hurried up the stairwell after her friend. She’d tell Theresa the truth now about everything. Well, maybe not everything. She couldn’t very well admit she’d been married to Tom for the past month and was in fact technically still his wife. Theresa wouldn’t believe her.
“Theresa, wait.” Her friend was already at the landing and the hallway that lead to the second floor rooms.
Maybe she couldn’t tell Theresa about Tom, but she could start by apologizing that she’d had to exclude so much from her. Maybe she’d even ask Theresa for her opinion on whether to go through with the wedding with Nathaniel. After all, Theresa had been there during each of the other failed engagements. She’d always understood and had provided a listening ear.
Firm, rapid footsteps behind her were followed by a hand on her arm stopping her, a solid, warm touch she’d recognize anywhere.
“Don’t say anything to Theresa,” Tom whispered from the step below her.
She turned to find that the stair difference put her at eye level with him and that they were close. Too close. She only had to look at his chest to remember all the times that he’d held her and that she’d rested her cheek against him. If only she could throw herself into his arms again and stop time. Because she didn’t want to re-enter her world, where young women were consumed with fancy clothes and pretty jewels and fashionable hair styles. Where she would be swept into an endless routine of dinner parties, balls, and operas. Where people were constantly scrutinizing and gossiping and trying to make themselves feel better by putting others down.
She hadn’t known she was locked into that kind of dizzying lifestyle until she’d broken away from it, until she’d experienced a simpler existence with Tom at Race Point. Now, she was about to be thrust into it all over again.
“I know she’s your friend,” Tom said, backing down a step and putting distance between them. “But you need to wait.” His coat stretched across his strong shoulders and hugged his biceps. Yes, she admired his physical strength, but she’d learned that he had an inner strength as well, one that gave her courage to do hard things. He pushed her to be stronger, to be better, to do more than she’d ever thought herself capable. He wasn’t afraid to challenge or confront her. He saw her weaknesses and didn’t excuse them. He’d seen her at her worst and had cared for her anyway.
“Tom,” she whispered, not caring that her voice—and likely her face—contained all her longing.
His jaw clamped more firmly, and he stepped down another stair. His actions told her all she
needed to know. He was sticking by his decision to relinquish her and their marriage. There was nothing she could do or say to sway him.
She sighed and resumed her walk up the steps, albeit much slower this time. “Okay. I won’t share anything with Theresa.”
Chapter 18
Tom stood outside room B3. He’d investigated the bed chamber before allowing Victoria to enter. He’d made sure the room was empty, that the windows were properly locked, and that no one lurked on the balcony that wrapped around the second story of the hotel.
He hadn’t liked the balcony, in spite of the fact that the door accessing it was at the end of the hallway. Even with only one entrance and exit onto the balcony, it would be all too easy for a perpetrator to climb onto it and attempt to break into Victoria’s room.
Victoria’s soft footsteps in the room told him that she was leaving the mirror, where she’d finished fastening the row of tiny buttons running up the front of the bodice. And now she was going back to the bed to retrieve her hat.
From the timing of her dressing routine, he guessed she hadn’t put on a corset, although one had been among the articles of clothing her mother had sent with Theresa. Of course, she hadn’t had any help to put it on. But he wanted to think she’d learned her lesson about wearing the useless thing. Tom almost smiled at the memory of cutting the laces on the one she’d been wearing when they’d first arrived at Race Point.
A squeak of floorboards drew his attention to Theresa’s room across the hallway. After delivering the dresses to Victoria, Theresa had retreated with the flimsy reason that she needed to fix her hair.
He’d seen through Theresa’s excuse. Her hair was already styled well enough. The truth was, she hadn’t wanted to be with Victoria. The hurt in Victoria’s eyes at Theresa’s coldness was obvious, and Victoria’s eagerness to repair her strained relationship with Theresa had also been obvious.
Tom had seen the tight pain on Theresa’s face when Nathaniel had knelt in front of Victoria and slipped the engagement ring on her finger. Strangely, Tom had empathized with her pain. His lungs had burned with the need to tell Victoria to take it off. Even now, the simple wedding band she’d returned seared him every time he touched it in his pocket.
Theresa wasn’t as proficient as he was at concealing emotions, but she’d managed to hide her pain before Victoria turned around. However, his glimpse of Theresa’s anguish had told him she was still in love with Nathaniel. And Nathaniel was still unaware of Theresa’s feelings and had eyes only for Victoria. Had Theresa hoped by having this short trip with Nathaniel, she could win his affection? Had she been working the whole month Victoria was gone to make Nathaniel notice her?
Tom’s spine turned into a steel beam. Was Theresa the one sabotaging Victoria’s wedding plans? His pulse picked up speed at the possibility, and he stared at her door, wishing he could see through it.
His mind scrambled to find any clues that might link the attacker to Theresa, but he came away with nothing. However, Theresa certainly had the financial means to hire someone. She had the motivation. And she’d never been a particularly warm friend. Nevertheless, Victoria had always seen the best in Theresa, as she was apt to do with most people. She’d accepted and loved her friend in spite of her shortcomings.
The realization sent a strange shimmer through Tom. Victoria was a special young woman to offer her friendship and love so freely, as she’d done to him, even after he’d pushed her away. He gave a frustrated shake of his head. He didn’t need one more reason to care about Victoria. He already had plenty.
He fixed his attention on Theresa’s door and attempted to gauge what she was doing on the other side. If she was the person behind all of the attacks on Victoria, then what might she be planning next?
He tried to put himself into her situation, to think as she might. What would make the most sense for a desperate, lovesick young woman? If she realized that all of her attempts to win Nathaniel had failed, if she realized that Nathaniel was still in love with and determined to marry Victoria, what would she do?
A thousand scenarios played through his mind, and none of them pleasant. Of course, he could also think of dozens of ways to stop Theresa, and none of those methods were pleasant either.
In reality, he had no proof yet that she was involved in the attacks. He might be misinterpreting his sudden suspicion and making more out of her behavior than was there. Another perpetrator could, even now, be lingering somewhere in Provincetown, hired by one of Henry Cole’s competitors.
Tom needed to talk with Arch. Then he would have a better idea of the goings-on in and around Provincetown. He had no doubt Arch had learned of Nathaniel and Theresa’s arrival and had likely watched them for a time. If Arch had noticed anything suspicious, he’d relay it all to Tom.
Yet something in Tom’s gut told him he needed to talk to Theresa now. Just in case she was the one. Just in case she was planning something else. All he had to do was tell her the truth, that he’d sent the telegram to Nathaniel about re-scheduling the wedding, that Victoria didn’t love Nathaniel any more, if she ever really had.
Such news would reassure Theresa and could keep her from doing anything to hurt Victoria. He started across the hallway toward Theresa’s room, but as he reached the center of the hallway, her door swung open.
“I was just coming for you,” Theresa said, pulling up one of her gloves. “I was hoping you might be willing to carry my luggage down to the lobby.” She cocked her head toward the foot of the bed where she’d piled several bags and hatboxes.
Was she attempting to lure him away from Victoria’s door? If he carried the items downstairs and left Victoria alone and unprotected, Theresa wouldn’t have much time to do anything. But still, he couldn’t take that risk.
“I’ll carry your things,” he said, crossing to her doorway, “but I’ll need to wait to take them down until Victoria is ready.”
She shrugged one of her petite shoulders.
He entered into her room and stepped to the end of her bed. His fingers closed around the handle of one of her valises. At the same time, he sensed the presence of another person behind the door, even before he caught sight in his peripheral vision.
He started to spin, and his hand flew to the knife case strapped under his suit coat. Before he could grasp the weapon, a blunt object slammed into his head. The force and the excruciating pain sent him to his knees. Blackness seeped into his conscience, but he fought against it. He needed to stay alert for Victoria’s sake. If he didn’t, Victoria would be next.
With a groan, he tried to push himself up. He managed to dislodge his knife. But he was too disoriented, too stunned by the blow to move as quickly as he needed. The object rammed into his skull again. This time the hit knocked him flat. His forehead slammed into the floor. And everything went black.
*
At the sound of scuffling in Theresa’s room, Victoria paused in adjusting her bonnet of pale blue with a dark grey velvet trim. She listened for a moment, but at the ensuing silence, she looked back into the mirror.
After wearing Ruth’s simple, loose dresses, this new form-fitting polonaise with its long bodice and narrow sleeves was constricting. She could hardly lift her arms. And the tightly tied-back skirt made walking difficult, especially with the pointed high-heeled shoes her mother had packed.
“How did I ever manage?” she said to herself, casting a glance at the corset on the bed. She hadn’t attempted to put it on, hadn’t even wanted to.
She ran her fingers along the row of buttons down her chest and the trimming of looped bows. The two shades of blue were pretty, and the garment accentuated her figure. If only she didn’t feel so trapped in it.
With what was probably her hundredth sigh, she checked her hair again, repositioned her hat, and decided she couldn’t stall any more. She had to return home. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to let go of her feelings for Tom. And the longer she stayed, the more chances she had of making a fool of herself by
begging him to love her back. Actually, she’d already made a fool of herself one too many times in her attempts to declare her love.
He didn’t reciprocate. She needed to accept that. And the best way to do so was to go back to her old life.
She finished packing, set her shoulders, and marched to the door. “I’m ready to go,” she said, swinging it open. She expected to see the back of Tom’s suit coat pulled taut across the breadth of his shoulders. But strangely, he wasn’t there. She peered up and down the hallway and didn’t see him anywhere.
Where had he gone? He’d been so careful since setting foot in Provincetown. He hadn’t wanted her to change in Nathaniel’s room, hadn’t wanted her to be alone, and had told her he would be waiting outside her door. So why did he leave?
She checked the stairway and then went back to the room and peeked past the curtains to the balcony. She didn’t see him anywhere.
The door across the hallway opened. Theresa stepped out with her valises looped over her arms and closed the door behind her.
“Have you seen Tom?” Victoria asked.
“No. But I heard him tell Nathaniel that he was leaving.”
“Leaving?”
Theresa nodded curtly before starting down the hallway. “He told Nathaniel that you were in good hands now and that you didn’t need him.”
Victoria frowned. She couldn’t imagine Tom ever saying anything of the sort. “Are you sure?”
Theresa stopped so abruptly that both of her bags swung forward without her. When she spun to face Victoria, her expression was calm, but she couldn’t hide the irritated twitch in her cheek. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Victoria offered her friend a smile, although it felt wobbly, just like their friendship. “Tom’s so careful about guarding me. I didn’t think he’d leave yet.”
“Maybe he has more important things to do than coddle you.” Theresa started down the wooden stairs, her footsteps echoing sharply.
