Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope) (26 page)

Nathaniel’s name on the top telegram seemed to reach up and slap Tom, and he quickly moved it to the bottom of the pile. For a brief instant, he thought about letting it drop into the water to be swept away by the waves.

But he straightened his back and glanced to the side of the house where Victoria was attempting to hang recently laundered clothes on the line. She had a pair of his father’s trousers in her hand, dangling between her thumb and forefinger as though she couldn’t bear to touch them. The garment dripped enough water to form a small stream. Hadn’t she used the wringer to dislodge the excess water? If the sagging, dripping garments already pinned haphazardly to the line were any indication, she’d neglected that important part of the laundering process.

“Mighty fine woman there,” Jimmy said, following Tom’s gaze. A grin cracked his leathery face.

“That she is.”

“Eh?” Jimmy cupped his ear and leaned toward Tom. “What did you say?”

Tom didn’t have the heart to repeat himself, especially louder. In fact, he had to look away from Victoria before the pain in his chest overwhelmed him.

“A real beauty.” Jimmy whistled softly between his missing front teeth. “You’re a lucky one, Tommy.”

Lucky? Not him. He was about as unlucky as any man could get. His conversation with her the night of the storm had been a wake-up call. Her words still blared in his mind just like the deep moan of the fog signal.
How are we supposed to really get to know each other if we aren’t honest and open about our pasts?
If he couldn’t be honest with her now, then they had no hope for a healthy long-term relationship.

He didn’t deserve her, and he never would. He was a broken man with a broken past. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever be able to forgive himself and move on. It was so much easier to keep running then to have to stop and face the pain. A woman like Victoria needed so much more than what he could give. She deserved to have a wonderful, open, and happy marriage like his parents.

The truth was, he was married to a woman he couldn’t have. And not just any woman. No, he was married to the most beautiful, most gracious, most forgiving, most fascinating, most passionate, most—

He shook his head to cut off his litany.

Even though he’d pushed her away all week since the stormy encounter in the bedroom, she’d accepted and adjusted to the situation, just as she had to everything else. She’d even apologized for asking him about his past.

His dad had been angrier about how he was treating Victoria than she was. Dad had argued with him, told him to put aside his pride, and make things right with his bride. After the tenth nagging, Tom had been tempted to tell his dad the truth, that Victoria wasn’t his, never had been, and never would be.

Jimmy began the process of unloading several other crates of food and supplies. Tom stuffed the telegrams into his coat pocket and helped Jimmy until the cutter was empty.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Tom suggested as he wiped his sleeve across his damp forehead. Even though the day was hazy and the sun behind the clouds, the humidity made the air sticky and heavy.

“Stay and win her?” Jimmy’s eyes widened, and he glanced again at Victoria, who had bent over to retrieve another sopping wet garment from the basket of laundry. Ruth’s hand-me-down skirt pulled taut against Victoria, revealing a very womanly figure.

Tom quickly averted his gaze but couldn’t stop the slow burn from fanning inside his gut. It was always there, always smoldering even though he’d done all he could that week to douse it. He had the feeling that after Victoria read all of the telegrams, she’d help him snuff it out once and for all.

Jimmy glanced away from Victoria. The confusion in his eyes would have been laughable, if Tom had been in a laughing mood. Which he wasn’t. “Stay. For. Dinner,” he repeated louder.

Jimmy’s grin re-appeared. “Why didn’t you say so? I can do that without worrying you’ll break every bone in my body.”

Tom carried the crates up to the house with Jimmy and then waved the old fisherman inside to visit with his mom. Tom couldn’t put off this encounter with Victoria, one he’d been dreading since sending the telegrams that revealed her location to the world.

As he approached the laundry line, he heard her humming. At the sight of him, she paused in the process of lifting another wet piece of clothing and gave him a warm, welcoming smile. “I hope Jimmy is planning to stay. I have a pot of clam chowder on the stove.”

For a second, he could almost believe she’d been born to this kind of life, that she could live in isolation indefinitely, cooking soup and hanging the laundry to dry, instead of relying upon a host of servants to do it for her. He tried to picture her as she’d been in New York when he’d first met her, in her lacy gowns, big flowery hats, fancy hairstyles, and dainty gloves and parasols. That was her world. And this would never be, no matter how comfortable she might appear at present.

He thrust the telegrams at her, knowing he had to get the inevitable over with. “These are for you.”

With curiosity lighting her eyes, she started to reach for them. But at the sight of the large bold print “Western Union” filling the top half of the envelope and her name scrawled on the bottom, she jerked her hand away. “I don’t want to see them.”

“You can read them privately, or I’ll read them to you aloud.”

She spun back to the rope that served as a laundry line, and she lifted the wet garment she’d been holding and gave a sharp gasp. It was her nightgown. The same one that she’d been wearing when he’d nearly lost control of himself.

She rapidly bunched up the gown and dropped into the basket before stooping and retrieving another item. His shirt. The one that he’d shed that same night. She paused, and he caught a slight tremble in her fingers before she moved to pin the shirt to the line.

He released a slow exhale, trying not to think of her. Of them. Of the fire that so easily sparked whenever they were together.

“Who are the telegrams from?” she asked, focusing on her task and avoiding his gaze.

“Your parents. A friend. Nathaniel.”

At the mention of Nathaniel, her hands stilled. “You told Nathaniel where I am?”

“Yes.”

Her shoulders sagged like the wet laundry.

Was she disappointed that their time here was over? He knew he shouldn’t feel any satisfaction that she’d rather be with him than Nathaniel, but he couldn’t help it.

“I didn’t think you wanted anyone to know where I was,” she finally said.

“Read the telegram and you’ll understand.”

Finally, she turned back to him and reluctantly took the envelopes. She opened Nathaniel’s telegram first. The typed print was longer than any telegram Tom had ever seen and had probably cost quite a bit to send. But then again, money wasn’t an issue for a man like Nathaniel.

Color drained from Victoria’s face as she read. When she came to the bottom of the note, she lifted her gaze to his. Her beautiful honey-brown eyes were wide with hurt. “Why does he think the wedding is happening again in two weeks?”

The look, the tone, the stance all begged him to deny what he’d done, or at the very least give her an explanation that would ease her pain. His chest tightened with the need to give in. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

But he swallowed his emotions. He couldn’t cave in to his selfish desires again. Victoria was better off with a man like Nathaniel, who could give her the kind of life she needed and understand the world she belonged to. Sure, she could adjust to living at Race Point for a few weeks. But she’d grow tired of it eventually and long for all she’d left behind, the glamour and shopping and maids. Tom would never be able to give her a life even close to that.

Besides, if he wanted to have a relationship with Victoria, he’d have to quit his bodyguarding. It was demanding work—the kind of job he wouldn’t be able to easily leave behind every night to go home to a wife. And if he quit protecting people, what kind of employment would be available to him besides being a light keeper or assistant keeper? Such work would be filled with too many of the memories he wanted to leave in the past.

No, any chance of having a relationship with Victoria was over. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to harbor any hope that they could have something in the first place. Now it was best not to prolong the separation.

“You’re marrying Nathaniel in two weeks.” He forced the words, even though his heart tore as he said them.

For a moment she seemed at a loss for a response. Then her brows furrowed and her eyes began to cloud with a coming storm. “Maybe you’ve ordered my life and told me what to do in everything else, but not in this. You can’t choose whom I marry.”

“It’s already been arranged.” He nodded at the other telegrams that she held. “That’s why Nathaniel’s mother sent you a message too. Mrs. Winthrop is helping with the planning.”

“I called off my engagement with Nathaniel, and I have no intention of marrying him anymore.” Her tone turned icy. “Not in two weeks, two months, or two years.”

“You belong with him.”

She pushed aside the wet garments that hung listlessly in the damp air and launched herself against him, wrapping her arms around him. “I belong to you, Tom.” She laid her head against his chest. “I want you. Only you.”

Heaven help him. He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands to keep from doing the thing he wanted to most—hold her close. Instead, he counted to five silently and then pried her loose. As he set her away, the chagrin in her expression was too difficult to witness.

He turned and started crossing to the house. He hated himself for hurting her. But he had no other choice. “Once you’re with Nathaniel again, you’ll see that I’m right.”

“You can push me away.” Her skirt swished as she followed him. “But you can’t push me back to Nathaniel.”

He kept walking.

“Even if you throw away what we have, I won’t marry him. I’ll write to him today and tell him.”

Her words stopped him. He spun and retraced his steps. “Don’t you dare.”

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m sending a note back with Jimmy.” With that she made to sweep around him toward the house.

He grabbed her arm. “You can’t.”

“I can do whatever I want.” Her eyes flashed with all the pain and anger that he’d brought her. But as in the past, he knew making her angry at him was for the best. Then she’d go out of her way to avoid him, and that would make leaving her easier. Maybe.

Before leaving her, however, he had one more job to do. Find her attacker and make sure she was completely safe. During the past few weeks, Arch had been tracking leads. But unfortunately his friend had only run into dead ends.

So, during an exchange of telegrams last week, they’d decided to implement their backup plan regarding the perpetrator. They would disclose Victoria’s location and hopefully lure the attacker out to the isolated Race Point Lighthouse.

“If you want me to find your attacker, then you can’t cancel the wedding.” He hadn’t wanted to say it, to give her the more logical explanation for why he’d sent the telegram to Nathaniel.

She pressed her lips together in a line of determination that told him she wouldn’t be satisfied until he explained himself.

“I do think you belong with Nathaniel,” he started, and when she began to tug away from him, he rushed to finish. “But that’s not the only reason I sent him the telegram.”

She ceased struggling and gave him her full attention.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that the attacker was hired by someone who doesn’t want you to get married.”

“How can you be sure?”

“A dozen little clues.” He’d been slowly putting all the pieces together. The attack on Arch had been planned by someone who knew Victoria’s habits. If he’d wanted to kill her, then he wouldn’t have simply attempted to stab her. No, the stabbing had been intended to wound her enough to postpone the wedding. When that hadn’t happened and the Coles had hired him to be her new body guard, the perpetrator had to think of a different way to stop the wedding. Swapping drivers on the way to the ceremony had been so well-timed, perfected down to the last detail.

“Who wouldn’t want me to get married?” she asked. He couldn’t keep from noticing the redness of her hands, likely from the strong lye soap. The pungent odor was strong in the damp air. “That makes no sense.”

“Maybe one of your father’s competitors feels threatened by your marriage.” He’d heard Victoria talk with Theresa on more than one occasion about how her marriage to Nathaniel Winthrop would move Victoria’s family into Mrs. Astor’s elite circle. Such a move would benefit Mr. Cole’s business aspirations. A competitor would want to stop the advantage. And anyone who knew how much Mr. Cole loved his daughter would also be willing to capitalize on that affection. Continued threats would make Mr. Cole desperate enough to give in to any demands his enemies might make.

“Whatever the case,” he continued, “the new wedding plans are already public. And so is your current location.”

She glanced around the beach, the horizon, and then inland to the sand dunes, as if expecting to see an attacker. “So I’m no longer safe here?”

“If anyone comes, I’ll see them. That’s why I chose this place.”

“What if someone tries to sneak out here at night under the cover of darkness?”

“Hopefully Dad would see them.” And of course, Tom intended to stand guard. His plan wasn’t foolproof, but it was still the best way of trapping and netting their culprit. He was counting on the imposter not knowing exactly how isolated the lighthouse was and believing it would be an easy place to capture Victoria. He was also hoping the attack would happen sooner rather than later.

“And have you told your parents?” She looked first at the upstairs window of the bedroom where Dad was sleeping and then toward the sitting room where Mom was chatting with Jimmy. “Do they know the truth now?”

“No. They don’t need to know.”

“You’re planning to let them think you’re still married to me indefinitely?”

“For a while.” Once they captured the attacker, he’d return Victoria to Newport, get the annulment, and leave for Europe. Maybe he’d tell his parents about the annulment the next time he visited, explain that he and Victoria were just too different and that parting ways was the only option. In the meantime, he wouldn’t say anything. He’d let his mom and dad stay blissfully ignorant as long as possible.