Stopping short, a scream caught in her throat.
“No use tryin’ to get away. I’ll stick your gizzard to the wall.” The assailant came from behind her to reclaim the weapon. “I always hit what I aim for. Dead on.” He gave Tori’s hair a painful yank in passing. “Next time it won’t be the door I’m aimin’ for.”
“What is it you want from me? Money? I have…”
“You ain’t got nuthin’.” The attacker spoke in an odd whisper, this time close enough that she was able have a better look at him.
Struck by the frailty of the man, Tori looked down at the moth-eaten overcoat covering his meager frame. A thin woolen cap was pulled down over his ears and with a threadbare scarf covered half his face.
Like the thug who had attacked her aboard ship.
Surely it was money he was after. What else would cause a person to take such drastic measures?
“Who are you? What do you want from me?” Tori inched toward the door once again, but he was ahead of her this time.
“Nothin’ but what’s rightfully mine.” He stopped her with a hard shove back.
Catching the smelly man by surprise Tori lifted her foot to sweep his feet out from under him, sending him sprawling. She made a dash for the door, determined to outwit this mad man. Instead the rug was swiftly jerked out from under her feet and she joined her assailant on the floor.
After a brief struggle, Tori snatched at the cap covering the man’s head. She froze in mid-wrangle. Before the other could react to stop her, Tori pulled the scarf away as well.
Both were astonished as they stared at one another in an icy blue daze. The aggressor finally regained control and held the knife up under Tori’s chin.
Blinking, Tori tried to make sense of what she’d just seen. Apparently, her ferocious attacker, bent on murdering her before the night was over, was nothing more than a female in disguise. And judging from the way she intermittently coughed now and again, she was a sickly female at that.
“What are you starin’ at?”
“Who are you?” The fact that her eyes were so like her own, hadn’t escaped Tori’s notice.
“Get up. That oaf is gonna be up here any minute.” She stood, yanking at Tori’s arm.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Tori jerked her arm away.
The girl moved the tip of the knife down Tori’s neck to rest against her breastbone, inches from her heart, increasing the pressure until it punctured tender skin. “I’ve wanted you dead for a long time. But now they say it don’t matter whether you’re dead or alive. So you’re coming with me. I want every penny that’s mine and you’re gonna get it for me.”
Frantic, Tori’s mind raced to find a way out of this predicament. “Do you have my father?” Standing as best she could without getting herself skewered, she tried to keep the girl involved in conversation long enough to keep herself alive.
“Move.” The girl pulled Tori outside the long window onto the terrace, coughing as soon as they entered the smoke-filled air. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”
“Mrs. Victoria?” Amos’s voice sounded from the hall. “Is you all right?”
Relief flooded her tattered nerves. Help was so near, just on the other side of the door. So close she had to bite her lip to keep from calling out. Her mind screamed to take the chance that she might get to the door before that knife found her back.
“Don’t be stupid. Come now or you ain’t never gonna see that papa of yours again. Your choice.” The girl’s cold whisper left no room for misinterpretation.
“You know where Father is?”
“You wanna see him? Shut up and come on.” She jerked her head toward the open windows.
Following her made no sense. Except this person claimed to know where her father was. If Tori let her disappear, the only clue to his whereabouts would disappear as well.
“Mrs. Victoria, I’m comin’ in!”
“You’d best think fast, because if that goon comes in here it’ll be just in time to meet his Maker.” The blade was poised and ready to be flung at the door should Amos walk in. There was no doubt in Tori’s mind that this girl had every intention of murdering him should she make the wrong choice.
Tori watched the handle of her door turn.
“No, Amos, please. I’m not dressed.” Tori swallowed hard to steady her voice. “No need for alarm, I just knocked over the washbasin. I’ll be right down.”
The silence was thick with tension as she watched the handle slowly return to its normal position. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I’m waitin’ right here.”
The girl motioned with the dreaded knife for Tori to hurry.
Tori’s heart sank as she weighed her options. More than likely, Nicholas would think she’d left him of her own volition. To think what that might do to him shattered her into a million pieces.
Yet, if there was the slightest chance this person could take her to her father, she had to follow.
Praying she would eventually have a chance to explain, she allowed herself to be prodded down the stairs of the terrace and shoved into the night.
My sorrow; I could not awaken.
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
~Edgar Allan Poe
Twenty-Five
Savannah lay in mournful silence beneath a stubborn haze of smoke. Distorted shadows drifted across the amber-colored moon, bathing the streets in a pallid blush.
Nicholas didn’t stop to freshen his filthy garments. Instead, he strode past his Broad Street residence, traveling eight more blocks to the Haverwood drive.
Though a deep fatigue had come over him after hours of fighting the indomitable blaze, he refused to rest until his wife was in his arms He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the sweet curve of her neck and take in the intoxicating lilac scent of her hair.
He wasn’t proud of the way he’d left things between them.
Victoria’s innocent admission had haunted him more times than he could count this night. She’d deserved a better response. An honest response.
Truth be told, he did love her. Loved her with every breath. As hard as he’d tried to deny it, the more it was undeniable.
Unlike Celine, Victoria was authentic. Time and again, he’d watched her attempt to do best by everyone. Whether disastrous or triumphant, her heart was always sincere. A fact that affected him without fail.
There was something truly remarkable about her. With all her imperfections, he had no choice but to admit the truth. Victoria was indeed perfect for him.
Quickening his pace, he was eager to tell her so.
Rounding the corner, it struck him as odd that the Haverwood home was completely lit. Lamps glowed from the window of every room as if they hadn’t been turned down all night. Several homes along the way had shown evidence that their Savannah neighbors were also finding it hard to sleep tonight, waiting for the final outcome of what certainly would be remembered as one of the city’s most devastating fires.
Approaching hoofbeats thundered behind him and Nicholas took a step back. A single horse and rider barreled past followed by his own coach careening perilously as it turned the corner of the lane.
Narrowing his eyes against the cloud of dust, he spotted Jonas pull the horses to a skidding halt in front of the Haverwood front steps. The labored pair snorted, tossing their heads against the brutal handling of their reins.
A multitude of reasons for Jonas’s haste sprang to mind. None were anything Nicholas wanted to consider.
Dashing toward the entrance, he watched the single rider dismount. The front doors flew open and the portico at the top of the steps broke out in frantic melee.
Mrs. Charlotte’s garbled screeching pierced the night as she grabbed the newcomer by the sleeve, fairly yanking him inside. Jonas stood back allowing Aurora a moment more to wail into her hands.
Crackling dread spurred Nicholas on. Victoria was nowhere to be seen.
Visions o
f her splayed at the foot of the stairs drove him to vault over the picket fence and swing up onto the side porch.
“Mister Nicholas!” Jonas called out as soon as he caught sight of his employer.
Aurora huddled under a knitted wrap. Her shoulders quaked from sobbing. “Nicholas!
Tori …” Again, she dissolved into incoherent sobbing.
Nicholas charged into the house. Searching only for one cherished face, he bounded the stairs two at a time.
“Amos!” His voice, still raspy from the effects of the wind and smoke, was a source of vexation as he called out for his main deckhand.
“Here, Cap’n” A burly shadow crossed the threshold of Victoria’s chamber, but Amos didn’t come out into the hall.
“Nicholas, thank heavens you’re here!” Mrs. Charlotte hollered from below. “The most frightening thing has happened. Right under our very noses. She promised to only to go up for a second. I heard her myself.” Her call got progressively louder as he continued his quest without looking back. “G.W., go catch him. He’s not listening to a word.”
Entering the bedroom, Nicholas found Amos pacing restlessly. The night table was flipped over on its side atop the rug crumpled in a corner. The bedcovers hung precariously to one side, puddling into a heap on the floor. Gossamer curtains billowed from the windows, opening out onto the terrace.
“Where is Victoria?” His frantic question was sharp, causing Amos to leave his vigil and face his captain.
“She ain’t here.” The ex-bondsman was bleary-eyed from the burden that had been placed on his shoulders. “She say she was needin’ to change. Not five minutes later, I heard a questionable sound and come up to see about it. I called through that door and she say she was fine. I waited right there for her to come on out, but that was the last I heard from her. When I called out again, there were no answer. I push open the door and everything’s like this. An’ she ain’t nowhere to be seen.”
“How long ago?
“Nearly two hours by now.” Amos shook his head. “I sent the stable boy down to the wharf to fetch you, and Jonas went for the constable right away. Ain’t made it back yet. I didn’t want to leave the other women alone or I’d of gone searching for her myself.”
Nicholas brushed past the big man to scour the terrace. No sign of forced entry. No footprints on the whitewashed planks. Nothing left behind on the brick steps leading down to the unspoiled garden below. Nothing but deafening silence.
Panic threatened to engulf him as he rummaged every inch the grounds, hoping for a torn piece of fabric, an earring, or a shoe left behind in haste.
Why would Victoria send Amos away? If she’d been in trouble, surely someone would have heard her scream. If she’d been hurt, the evidence would be plain enough. Instead, nothing. Vanished without a trace.
Nicholas refused to give credence to petty uncertainties nipping the back of his mind.
Focusing on one thing alone, he grit his teeth, combing his way through a line of shrubbery. Finding Victoria and bringing her home was the only thing he’d even consider at this point. There’d be plenty of time for the whys and hows later. Right now, he needed to find her and hold her close.
And make certain whoever did this never dared to come near her again.
Emerging beyond the manicured bushes, he paused, alone in a vast field of red clover skirting the Savannah River. In the meager light of predawn, he detected no movement apart from an occasional wave of the breeze as it rippled across the grassland.
To the east, the river ran north up to Augusta, easily the fastest route out of the city. To the west, the rails of Central Railroad and roads leading over to Macon and Atlanta with nothing but farmland in between.
Retracing his steps, Nicholas formed a plan to cover a fifty-mile radius of Savannah with volunteers and hounds, spreading in every direction until no rock was left unturned.
The action worked to sooth his temper. He wasn’t used to his orders going awry, especially when it involved the well-being of those close to him. Amos would have plenty to answer for, but not tonight.
As soon as he topped the steps of the terrace, his crewman met him back at the window of Victoria’s room. Nicholas could see Amos was nearly beside himself with worry. For now, he needed him to keep his wits, to try and remember as much as possible.
“You said you heard a sound?” Nicholas reentered the room inspecting every wall from floor to ceiling, hoping to come across something he might have missed.
“Yessir, a thud. Like somethin’ done hit the floor. Mrs. Victoria say the washbasin fell but you can see it ain’t moved.” The hulking man had moisture on his face. Whether from tears or sweat, Nicholas couldn’t say.
Stooping down, he examined something protruding from the furrowed rug. Last evening’s playbill lay tucked within its folds. Nicholas lifted the flier as an image of Victoria filled his senses. This same paper had been in her gloved hand as she’d sat still as a mouse taking in every word of the play. Her hair gleaming in the reflection of the stage lights and her keen eyes wide with wonder.
“Cap’n, I ain’t seen this before.”
Standing, he turned to where Amos stood by the door.
“Looks like this wood had a run-in with a knife.”
Quick to investigate, Nicholas ran a finger over a clean slash marring the carved casing. “Looks like the tip barely stuck. Either they were a poor aim or it was thrown from across the room.”
“I remember when they tried to hurt Mrs. Victoria on the ship, Cap’n. That man had a knife, too.”
His blood run cold at the thought that the same murderous villain they’d dealt with onboard somehow followed Victoria all the way to the mainland.
Voices rose from the stairs.
“G.W., how could this have happened right here in Savannah? It’s so a body’s not safe anywhere.” Charlotte Haverwood came through the doorway in a tizzy while Constable McAllister sauntered into the room like he was attending a Sunday social.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Mrs. Charlotte. Savannah’s just as safe as it ever was. You’ve got my word on that.” He eyed Amos before walking over to where Nicholas stood. “Problem is those bluestockings have made it a habit of disappearing.” The Constable’s crude guffaw caught in his throat when Nicholas seized the neck of the man’s shirt.
“My wife is missing, McAllister. I want every available man out looking for her before noon. Is that clear?” It took every ounce of effort Nicholas had not to accentuate his point with a well-placed fist. His patience had run its course.
“Now see here, Saberton. Mind how you handle the law.” McAllister’s beefy jowls flapped when Nicholas released him, pushing the heavy man aside.
“Nicholas, you’re beside yourself.” Mrs. Charlotte chided.
Further irritated that the constable continued his lack of urgency, Nicholas turned on him again. “You’re wasting time, McAllister. If I have to go wake up the mayor, myself, I’ll do it. One way or another there will be a search party formed and activated to bring my wife home!”
“No need to trouble the mayor, now.” McAllister finally seemed to get the point as he ambled toward the door. “If she’s out there, we’ll come across her.”
Nicholas threw a scowl at the inept officer. G.W. McAllister was nothing more than the mayor’s brother-in-law who took a salary for doing as little as possible.
Charlotte Haverwood left the room as well, clucking along behind him.
“I know you’s disappointed in me, Cap’n. But I swear I woulda never let her out of my sight unless she insisted on it. Even then it was only for a few minutes.” Amos was back to pacing.
“Never mind who’s to blame.” Shards of guilt at having ever left her spurred him on. The warehouses should never come before Victoria. “Go find Zach. Have him make sure no ships have left the bay. Tell Ian to take a schooner up the river. Check with every ferry to see if anyone has seen her.”
“What you gonna do, Cap’n?”
<
br /> “I’m going to find my wife.” A muscle worked his jaw. “If I have to tear up Georgia to do it!”
The first rays of dawn splayed across the grayed horizon to reveal the smoldering remains of the once-impressive Exchange House. Charred, with its walls fallen in and its roof completely missing, the remnants of the structure groaned and popped with lingering distress.
Several men stood staring at the looming sight, shaking their heads at the terrible loss. Three men had died as a result of last night’s fire, but the majority of the warehouses had been spared.
A gnarled lamp post in front of the building was a ghostly reminder of the devastating heat that had radiated from Savannah’s worst blaze to date.
Watching from the parked carriage, Felicity Jenkins Duff spied Zach Saberton over on the north end of the waterfront. Nicholas would surely feel the sting of this loss for a good long time. It would serve him well to learn that no one double-crossed her without paying dearly.
She sat back into her velvet seat and smiled with contentment.
For two years she’d tried to catch Nicholas Saberton’s interest. Still might have if Victoria Haverwood hadn’t ruined her plans.
Now she’d fixed them both. She had destroyed the only thing Nicholas ever loved in his life. His precious shipping company.
Curling her lip, she tapped at the roof of her carriage with her parasol and sat back in smug satisfaction as it lurched forward.
Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.
~ Henry David Thoreau
Twenty-Six
They had trudged for what seemed like miles through high grass and thorny underbrush, stopping every so often to let the other girl catch her breath. Tori had no earthly idea where they were going, although, the nudging of the blade to her back was an ever-present reminder of the hatred fueling this escapade. The knife had ripped through the back of her gown in numerous places, and Tori felt the sting of each slash.
True Nobility Page 18
