Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope) (28 page)

He didn’t respond, except for the twitch of a muscle in his neck above the white collar that contrasted his sun-bronzed skin.

“It was a foolish plan. And I shouldn’t have agreed to come.” Her voice cracked, and she quickly bit her lip to hold back a swell of sorrow and heartache. She stared straight ahead and blinked back the wet heat that stung her eyes.

She was angry with herself for wishing he’d contradict her, wishing that he’d tell her the month had been the best in his life, even if their time together couldn’t last. But he was silent again. He didn’t speak until the shingles and clapboards of the Provincetown homes were visible and the calls of the fishermen along the seafront greeted them.

“I hate myself for hurting you,” he said so softly she almost missed it above the slap of the waves.

When she tilted up her wide-brimmed hat to get a better view of his face, she glimpsed a haunted sadness in the depths of his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Victoria.” The sincerity in his voice and expression was difficult to resist. She might be angry at herself for falling for him. But she couldn’t stay mad at him. It wasn’t his fault that she was leaving with a broken heart. He’d tried to maintain proper boundaries, hadn’t wanted to cross them, had tried hard not to. But she hadn’t heeded his warnings. She’d plunged forward like she usually did into relationships. Only this time she was the one leaving with the wounds instead of the other way around.

“I forgive you,” she said, realizing she could do nothing less, especially since she’d done the hurting all too many times with her previous relationships.

Tom’s brows rose, revealing his surprise at the ease of her forgiveness. “Thank you.” His whisper still contained a note of sadness that plucked at her empathy. He was hard on himself. Too hard. She guessed that’s why, even after all these years, he couldn’t forgive himself for what had happened to Zelma. She guessed he blamed himself for the loss of her feet and maybe even blamed himself for Ike’s death, although she didn’t see how he could, not if they were prisoners of war. Not if Zelma had made the decision for herself to try to save her sons.

“When you see Nathaniel, you have to continue with the plans.”

She shook her head. “I can’t deceive him.”

“Then wait to say anything until I can talk to him in private.”

She wanted to refuse. She’d been a part of enough deception during the past month, and it had only led to trouble. It was time to embrace honesty, even if it compromised her safety.

“I’ll explain the plan to him,” Tom continued, “but until then act like a bride-to-be.”

“It’s not fair to him if I—”

“He’ll understand.”

Nathaniel would do anything for her, even if it meant acting like they were getting married so that they could lure the nebulous attacker. Even so…

“Please.”

Was the bossy, stubborn, determined Thomas Cushman actually asking her to do something politely instead of demanding as he usually did? “Could you say that again?”

His expression was earnest. “Please, Victoria…”

She put a hand to her head and pretended to faint. “Oh, my. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

His brow lifted.

She tossed back her head and feigned shock. “You said
please
.”

A semblance of a grin quirked the corner of his mouth. “I’m capable of it on occasion.”

She sat up and smiled. “Very well. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll comply.”

“Comply?” It was his turn to feign shock. He held a hand to his heart and leaned back.

“I’m capable of it on occasion,” she retorted.

His grin broke free in all its breath-taking glory. And for just a moment, she felt as though they were on good terms again. But as the cutter brushed against the dock with a scrape, the bump jolted her back to reality, to the fact that she was going home.

Tom must have sensed it too, because his smile disappeared and his stoic bodyguard mask dropped into place.

As Jimmy secured the cutter, she twisted the simple wedding band beneath her glove, until finally she tugged off the tight satin and slipped the ring over her knuckle and into her palm. She stared at the ring, wrestling with the desire to keep Tom, to hold him tightly, and to make him love her in return. Somehow.

She could force his hand if she really wanted to. She was inventive enough to scheme and plot to get her way. But she didn’t want a love that was coerced. She wanted him to give it to her freely. Since he obviously couldn’t, she had to let him go.

“One last thing,” she made herself say as Tom assisted her out. She placed her hand into his and pressed the ring into his palm.

His eyes widened. But once she was standing on the dock, he accepted the ring and stuffed it into his pocket without giving it a glance. The action had a finality to it that snagged her chest, made worse by the fact that he didn’t seem to be affected by the show of severing their marriage.

In fact, as Tom led her away from the waterfront past the racks of drying cod, he was stiff and alert, not displaying the least bit of emotion. Even though she knew by now that his expressionless face meant he was doing his job, she wished he’d demonstrate a little bit of grief at their parting.

When they finally reached the hotel where Nathaniel was staying, she tried to resign herself to the fact once and for all that she and Tom were destined to go their separate ways. As they stepped inside, the mustiness of cigars permeated the stale interior. Except for the hotel proprietor behind a front counter, the small lobby was empty. This hotel wasn’t nearly as fancy as those she was accustomed to staying in. Even though the striped print seat cushions of the arm chairs and settee were slightly frayed, the room was tidy. A bowl of seashells sat on a low coffee table. More seashells of all kinds and sizes lined the large picture window overlooking busy Main Street.

Tom stepped in behind her, and his attention moved from one window and door to the next, assessing every detail.

“Victoria, darling.” Nathaniel’s voice echoed in the stairwell. His patent leather shoes tapped a rapid rhythm as he descended. He wore a Newmarket black coat with a gardenia in the lapel buttonhole. His double-breasted waistcoat was of buff drill that coordinated with his gray checkered Angola trousers.

He crossed rapidly toward her and didn’t give her the expected chaste kiss on her hand or even a slight kiss on the cheek. Instead, he pulled her into an almost desperate embrace.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” he said against her ear.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” she replied. “But I’m doing just fine. I promise.”

He held her tightly for several long seconds. Behind her Tom cleared his throat, and she wriggled to free herself. Nathaniel released her but immediately reached for her hands. She was glad for the gloves hiding her chafed skin. Even so, her gloves were no longer the pristine white that they’d been when she’d left Newport.

His eyes sought hers, warm and tender as always. His mustache and hair were groomed with care, and he looked every bit the dashing gentleman who had captured her heart at the start of their relationship.

“How are my mother and father?” she asked.

“They send their love.” Something reserved in Nathaniel’s response told her that perhaps her father wasn’t a proponent of her early return.

“And your parents?”

“Mother is excited to be planning the wedding again. And Father is, well…” His eyes reflected a pain she seldom saw there, usually only when he thought about his father. “He’s busy,” Nathaniel finished with a forced smile.

Everyone in New York society knew about Mr. Winthrop’s moodiness and the fact that he disappeared for months at a time. No one knew where he went or what he did in his absences, and the one time she’d asked Nathaniel, he’d only shaken his head and said he was sworn to secrecy.

“Oh, darling, I’ve missed you so much,” he said.

She squeezed his hands and struggled to find the right words to say in response. She couldn’t very well tell him that she’d missed him too. The truth was that she’d hardly thought about him. So she settled for the next best answer, which was partly true. “I’m glad to see you again.”

“You made me the happiest man in the world to get your first telegram telling me that you wanted to renew our engagement and go forward with the wedding.”

Words of denial were on the tip of her tongue, but she could almost feel the tension radiating from Tom’s body. When she glanced at him, his dark eyes were full of warning. And a plea to stick with the plan.

How could she deny him, especially after he’d asked her so sweetly? But at the same time, how could she move from one charade to the next?

Nathaniel was pulling something out of his coat pocket, and before she knew what he was doing, he was down on one knee in front of her, holding out her engagement ring, the enormous sapphire set into a circle of diamonds that she’d once thought was the most beautiful ring in the world. “Please, put this back on and promise you won’t ever take it off.”

Again she peeked at Tom. He didn’t say anything. Something like uncertainty flashed across his features. Was he having second thoughts about pushing her together with Nathaniel, or was he simply feeling guilty for perpetuating a lie?

Nathaniel didn’t wait for her answer and tugged off her glove.

She drew back. How could she do this? Especially with Tom standing behind her watching. “Nathaniel, I—”

He captured her hand and proceeded to slide the ring on.

She started to protest again, but her stilted words halted at the sight of a newcomer descending the stairs. With a soft exclamation of delight, she stepped around Nathaniel and rushed toward the young woman. “Theresa!” Before Theresa could descend the last step, Victoria was already drawing her friend into a hug.

Theresa gave a shaky laugh at Victoria’s exuberance. “Oh, my. I guess it’s good to see you too.”

Victoria embraced her friend a moment longer before pulling back with a smile. “Look at you!” Victoria studied Theresa’s two-toned sage green silk taffeta, which had a bodice that molded Theresa’s slim body all the way to her waist. Her luscious dark hair was pulled up stylishly so that curls formed at both temples. “You look beautiful, and I’m very jealous of your gorgeous gown. Is it new?”

“Made in Paris.” Theresa swished the skirt.

“I absolutely love it.” Victoria stood back and nodded with appreciation at the fine workmanship.

“I told her the colors are perfect,” Nathaniel added, moving to Victoria’s side and tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. Although he seemed to be complimenting Theresa, he was staring at Victoria’s face with unswerving adoration.

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.