True Nobility

by Lori Bates Wright

  “Actually, he’d be highly disappointed if I didn’t worry.”

  “I’d prefer it if you’d come with me. I won’t press you, but going alone won’t be nearly as entertaining.” He had no intention of going alone. Victoria couldn’t do any more than she already had to see her father found. She needed a diversion to ease her troubled mind.

  “You’d go without me?”

  “Only if you leave me no other choice.” He took a freshly starched shirt from the wardrobe and pulled it over his shoulders, enjoying the way his wife didn’t bother to hide her admiration.

  “I imagine that would cause quite the stir if you showed up without me.” Crossing her arms, she nibbled her lip.

  Nicholas reached around her to retrieve his gold cufflinks from a valet stand against the wall.

  Tori intercepted to fasten them herself. “I have wanted to see a play for the longest time. Ever since I can remember, actually.” She folded the cuff, and set the link in place. “We could tell the man at the desk downstairs where to find us if word should come.”

  “We could.”

  “I don’t see why not. Only for one evening.” Once she had both cuffs in place, she’d convinced herself to accept his offer.

  Finding her reversal adorable, Nicholas took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Besides all that, this gives me a chance to show off my lovely bride.” He pulled her close with his other arm around her waist.

  Tori tilted her head to accept his kiss, but suddenly drew back. “I haven’t anything to wear. Not suitable for the theater, anyway.”

  Reluctantly, he released her. “When I ordered the tickets, I sent for Jonas to bring one of your gowns over. It came earlier when you were reading out on the verandah.” Nicholas brought a box in from the common area and set upon the bed.

  Lifting the lid, Tori immediately recognized her favorite gown.

  “I told him which one to look for. I particularly like that dress.” He tied a silk cravat around his neck. “You wore it aboard The Tempest. The night I kissed you under the stars up on deck.”

  “Almost kissed me.” She smoothed the sleeves. “Father had it specially made in London for my last birthday. When he saw the iris-colored silk, he’d said it was the color of Haverwood eyes and insisted the dressmaker make it into a gown for me of the very latest fashion.”

  “It does match your eyes. That’s probably why I’m so fond of it.” Nicholas came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. An overwhelming sense of affection for her gripped his heart and the words nearly slipped from his lips. Still, caution held out. “Best go get ready or we’ll be late.”

  Tori could hardly believe she was going to the theater. To see a play by Shakespeare was a lifelong dream. Still, a twinge of guilt at enjoying an evening out without her father nipped at her conscience.

  Her only solace was knowing Nicholas had done everything he’d promised to help find and bring her father home. They met with his attorney and a private investigator the first day after their wedding. Both men were immensely helpful and assured her they would have some answers as to the identity of Lucinda Martin before the week was out.

  She partially pinned her hair up in back, letting loose curls fall down over her shoulders. The duchess’s brooch and the drop earrings she’d worn the day of the wedding matched splendidly. Her shawl of silver lace and elbow-length gloves completed the ensemble.

  Half an hour later, they stepped from the lobby of the hotel.

  Tori slowed in the bustle of the square. Out of sheer instinct, she scanned every face in the plaza, hoping against hope she might spot her father in the crowd. It was absurd to consider, yet if there was even the slightest possibility, she refused to give up.

  Unfortunately, no one even vaguely resembled the earl.

  On a heavy breath, she looked up at Nicholas and found him watching her. Slipping her hand to rest inside his arm, she let him know she was ready to cross the road.

  The square itself was like none of the others she had seen thus far. Clearly the hub of Savannah’s plush night life, it was scattered with twice as many streetlamps along widened paths. Strolling couples, the men resplendent in their top hats and the ladies in their rustling crinolines, strode regally through the square in their evening attire.

  All eyes seemed drawn to them as Nicholas escorted her across the park and up the steps of the theater. Her skirts swayed about her gracefully as if she walked on air.

  Two elderly matrons clucked excitedly behind their fans as they passed through the entrance of the theater. One would think as observant as these people were, someone would have seen or heard news about her Father by now.

  The first play, appropriately called, The Busybody, was a comical farce that kept Tori perched on the edge of her seat in their box in the upper right-hand corner.

  The second offering was a tearful Shakespearean classic that soon had her sniffling into her lace handkerchief, completely enthralled by the actors below.

  After three encores, with roses littering the stage, the house lights finally came up. Tori sat perfectly still, taking in the poignancy of the moment. Her heart was full, almost painfully so.

  Double doors opened all around the auditorium as scores of people flooded out below.

  Nicholas offered to help her to her feet, and she accepted gratefully. The emotion stirred by actors in a play put Tori in a reflective mood. Her feelings for Nicholas ran deeper now than ever and she was of a mind to tell him so. Whether he was ever able to admit the same, she needed him to know.

  “Nicholas, wait.” They were the last to leave the darkened box and she stopped him with a tug on his hand. “I have to tell you something and it can’t be put off.”

  “What is it, princess?” His voice was deep and quiet as he smoothed her cheek with the back of his hand.

  Tori encouraged herself to be out with it before she lost her nerve.

  “I-I … that is …” She stilled his hand, so she could think clearly.

  “I must say … What I mean is, I’ve quite decided to love you.”

  Her gaze shot up to his. That wasn’t at all how she’d intended to say it.

  His steady regard made her glad for the low lights.

  Finally, he spoke. “Have you now?” His tone was amused but at least he didn’t laugh.

  “Yes, Nicholas. I’m afraid I’ve gone and fallen quite hopelessly in love with you.”

  Tilting her chin, he brought his lips to hers in answer. Gently at first, before his kiss became more and more demanding.

  Time stood still. The feel of her husband’s arms around her, lost in the warmth of his affection, made her forget to breathe.

  A muted cough behind them shattered the magic of the moment. “Pardon me, sir. The balcony is now closed.”

  Slowly Nicholas lifted his head. “We’ll discuss this more later.” With a last kiss to the tip of her nose, he placed her shawl on her shoulders and took her hand.

  The usher drew the curtain behind them, closing off access to the upper circle.

  They were the last to descend the red-carpeted staircase into the main lobby of the theater. Through tall windows set in front, Tori could see the plaza was lit up as brilliantly as if it were the height of the day. Stately carriages passed along the street with lanterns glowing brightly. She could see the hotel on the other side of the square glittering in grand opulence.

  The instant they crossed the threshold they both knew something was terribly wrong.

  The acrid smell of smoke assailed Tori’s senses. A general disquiet rose among the townspeople quickening their pace as they began to scatter in every direction.

  Tightening her hold on Nicholas’s arm, she searched his face.

  “Come on.” Hailing a hack parked under a streetlamp, Nicholas led their way down the brick steps to the chaos of carriages trying to pass on the road.

  “Mister Nicholas!” From across the square, Tori spotted Jonas waving from the drivers’ seat of the Saberton coach pa
rked in front of the hotel.

  Lifting her skirt, Tori followed her husband and dodging horses, they wove their way around the panic to where Jonas worked to steady the pair of grays.

  “Your warehouse—” Jonas’s voice was suddenly cut off by the sound of clanging that rent the air. A ribbon of fright slipped down Tori’s back. Excited shouts broke out from the street leading down to the wharf.

  Moving swiftly, Nicholas put an arm around her, guiding her toward the Saberton carriage where he opened the door for Tori to climb inside.

  “Cap’n! Come quick!” Four men Tori recognized as men from the ship called from the road with torches glowing in their hands.

  “What’s the trouble, Amos?”

  The men surrounded Nicholas, talking all at once.

  “The Exchange House!”

  “Gone up in blazes!”

  Tori followed Nicholas’s narrowed gaze in the direction the men pointed. Over the housetops, bright flames could be seen licking at the darkness.

  “Dear heavens.” The words escaped her as she fell back onto the leather seat.

  “The warehouses are full, Cap’n. If fire gets to them, you’ll lose everything.” The hulking guard Tori knew as Amos lowered his voice, but Tori could hear just the same. “If you was to lose all that cargo, it would take everything you own to pay back them holders for their lost crops. Everything you’ve worked for could be destroyed.”

  “I’ll take Victoria home. Ian can stay with her there.”

  “Mister Ian done went down to the wharf. He sent me to find you and tell you he and Mister Zach are headed to the fire and will do all they can. They said you is to stay with your bride.” Jonas piped in from up top.

  Though she couldn’t see him, Tori knew Nicholas was torn. He’d poured his life into making Haverwood Shipping and Trade what it was today, the largest importer on the Eastern seaboard. She couldn’t stand by and watch him lose it all because he felt an obligation to look after her like a bothersome child.

  Pushing the door open, she saw him rubbing his forehead.

  “You must go.” All the men looked up. “I’ll be fine, Nicholas. You must go and see to your cargo.”

  Still he hesitated.

  She decided to take matters into her own hands. There was no time to waste. “Jonas can take me home. I’ll wait there to hear from you.”

  Finally, Nicholas began to roll up his sleeves. “Amos, you stay with Victoria. Don’t let her out of your sight. Jonas, take her to the Haverwood’s and stay there until you hear from me. This could be a long night.”

  Tori could tell Amos felt he got the short end of the bargain.

  It was a sacrifice almost too harsh to ask of a sailor. If anything, Nicholas’s crew fought back-to-back for one another at all costs. Asking one to stay behind with the women was a disgrace.

  Nonetheless, Amos handed off his torch and sprung up into the seat across from her.

  As the carriage lurched forward, Tori watched Nicholas through the small back window until she couldn’t see him any more.

  “God go with you, my love,” she whispered.

  Abide with me from morn until eve;

  For without thee I cannot live.

  Abide with me when night is high;

  For without thee I dare not die.

  ~ John Keble

  Twenty-Four

  The reflection of firelight flickered from the shimmering Savannah River.

  As Nicholas rounded the corner of Factor’s Walk, he shielded his face from the oppressive heat of the raging blaze. All along the wharf, flames leapt from blown out windows of storage warehouses. The exchange building was completely engulfed and the adjoining buildings were at imminent risk.

  A wide hose spanned the short distance from the river to Bay Street, where a man-powered pump spewed murky water at the ferocious blaze.

  Nicholas threw off his vest and moved to the head of the line. “Keep it pumping!” His order was swallowed by the roar of the fire.

  Every available man passed buckets, one after another, to douse the flames lapping at the city’s main export office. Vigorously, they kept at it for what seemed like hours. If the fire reached the outer warehouses, every plantation owner, peanut farmer, textile merchant and seaman alike stood to lose thousands of dollars in the fall trade. None shouldered more of the burden than Nicholas.

  “The north side! It’s coming down!”

  As predicted, the building crumbled. Though devastating the exchange building itself, it gave better access to battle the blaze from within, possibly sparing the warehouses to the north.

  Turning their faces from the intense heat, the men waited for the initial burst of the refueled inferno to subside, before resuming their counterattack.

  As time passed, the sea breeze worked to their advantage blowing in from the north, bending back the flames and keeping them from reaching the buildings in that area.

  Smoke filled Nicholas’s nostrils, burning clear down his throat. Nearly every man in Savannah had come down to the wharf to battle the blaze. A fire like this would prove deadly if allowed to burn farther into the city.

  Glowing cinders exploded in a firestorm, sending one man screaming from the flaming building. Those close by slapped at the burning ash as it spewed down onto their clothing.

  Nicholas drew in as close as the extreme heat would allow, fortitude spurring him on.

  “Cap’n, lookout!”

  A fiery beam crashed to the ground pinning the man who’d given the warning beneath its smoldering weight. With a howl, the man’s face twisted in agony.

  “Go for the doctor,” Nicholas commanded in a rasp. The combination of smoke and constant shouting had taken a toll on his voice. His lungs felt close to bursting.

  Gritting his teeth, he lifted the heavy beam just high enough for the others to pull the man free. Nicholas then threw the smoking rafter to one side and away from the threat of harming anyone else. He flinched at the searing pain on the inside of his forearm where a nasty burn marred his flesh.

  He dropped to his knee and looked into the dazed eyes of the felled man. Beneath the soot and grime, he saw the face of a good friend. Orville Simmons, one of his crewmen who’d been with him since day one.

  Simmons trembled with shock.

  An onlooker stepped forward to remove his charred shirt, eager to ease the old sailor’s suffering.

  Nicholas stayed his hand. “Leave it. If you peel away his clothing, his skin is likely to come with it.”

  The pungent smell of burned flesh hung heavy in the air.

  “Simmons, hang on. The doc’s coming and you’re going to be fine.” Even as he said it, Nicholas knew the man wouldn’t last until the physician arrived.

  “C-cap’n? I can’t see nothin’. Everything’s … goin’ black.” The seafarer gasped, eyes wide. “We’re goin’ down, Cap’n!”

  The man’s panic tugged at Nicholas and he was bent on easing his friend’s torment. “Simmons, man the prow. It’s just a squall. We’ll ride it out. There’s blue skies up ahead.” Nicholas spoke next to the man’s ear and the sailor seemed relieved his captain had things under control.

  “Aye, Sir.” His answer was barely audible.

  Swallowing hard, Nicholas watched the old sea dog’s eyes relax into an unseeing stare as death laid claim to his soul.

  Nicholas was sickened by the death and destruction surrounding him. Though smoke burned his eyes, he’d never seen things as clearly as he did in that moment.

  Looking at the lifeless form of his friend, the fire and all its devastation was nothing in comparison to what really mattered—finding his wife and kissing her senseless.

  Business could be rebuilt, but life was fragile. Protecting Victoria must be his first and only priority. The need for answers would be sated in time, but for now he was certain of only one thing. He needed her. He needed to hold her in his arms He’d gladly give up everything he owned to see Victoria safe and sound.

  “Ian!” Nichol
as called to his brother who was taking long strides toward him. “You’re in charge here. I’m going home to my wife.”

  The smile on Ian’s face told him he couldn’t agree more. Nicholas slapped him on the back before turning to leave.

  Her room was dark and quiet.

  Convincing Amos to give her a minute alone to change had been an ordeal. He took Nicholas’s directive seriously until Tori wanted to lock herself in her room just to keep him from staring at her. Promising not to take more than five minutes, she’d left him at the foot of the stairs to wait for her.

  Tori felt her way over to a lamp next to the bed. Once lit, she lifted the soft yellow flame to chase shadows from every corner.

  Opening the French windows, she heard shouting over a billowing roar in the distance. An acrid smell of smoke invaded the room and she pulled the windows together once more.

  Closing her eyes, she said a prayer for Nicholas and all he stood to lose.

  A black-gloved hand roughly clamped over her mouth. “One more peep, and I’ll remove your stinkin’ tongue. With this.”

  A wicked looking dagger came up into Tori’s view, and the breath completely left her. Shutting her eyes, she willed herself to be brave. Panic would ultimately be to her disadvantage.

  Her silent prayer turned into a plea for help, begging for a chance to throw this wretch off guard to make an escape. Yet, looking into her distorted reflection in the gleaming blade, the prayer froze on her lips.

  “I’ve waited a long, long time for this.” The odorous thug drew out the last “long” and it sent a surge of terror through to Tori’s bones.

  Opening her mouth to scream for Amos, the glove once again stifled her cry. “Hush, you dang fool,” came a raspy whisper. “You keep your mouth shut or I swear I’ll have your captain run clear through. An’ you won’t be able to do nuthin’ but stand and watch.”

  Tori yanked the dirty hand from her mouth, “No!” She scrambled out of the way, and darted for the door.

  The blade whizzed past her head, to suspend quivering in the wooden frame.