Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope) (11 page)

She started to protest, but the silent plea on Father’s face stopped her. He was asking her to trust Mr. Cushman and listen to him. “Very well.” She could always purchase new garments and accessories once they reached their destination. That would be much more fun anyway.

Perhaps he was taking her to Boston. She’d heard there were several excellent French seamstresses there. She’d thoroughly enjoy having some new designs.

She rose to leave. She had a lot to do if she was to be ready by the early morning.

“You’ll need to act normal and go to bed,” Mr. Cushman instructed. “Don’t tell anyone about our plans. Not even your mother.”

She stopped mid-stride.

“I’ll inform her in the morning,” Father reassured.

“But I’d like to say goodbye.”

“You can’t this time.” Mr. Cushman was rising from his chair.

“She’ll understand,” Father said. “And so will Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel. In the flurry of the new plans, she was ashamed to admit she hadn’t thought of attempting to say goodbye to him. She hadn’t considered how he might feel, not knowing her location or how she was faring.

The slight quirk of Mr. Cushman’s eyebrow told her he’d guessed her oversight.

She lifted her chin in defiance. “I really must say something to Nathaniel.”

“No.” Mr. Cushman’s tone was stubborn. “Not a word.”

“That’s not fair to him.”

“Your father can explain everything.”

“He deserves to hear it from me.” She pressed her hands into her hips. “At the very least, I will write him a note telling him goodbye.”

“A short note. But without any hint of our plans.”

“Very well.” She sniffed and crossed the room to the door.

“Your acting career starts now,” Mr. Cushman said. “Pretend you’re still upset about the delayed wedding.”

She stiffened at his subtle insinuation. “I won’t have to pretend. I am upset.”

When he didn’t say anything else, she made a grand exit, closing the door heavily behind her. Fuming, she stomped down the hallway.

That man was so irritating at times.

She’d prove to him she could handle anything that came her way during the next month. She’d also show him she loved Nathaniel. In spite of all of the obstacles, she still planned to marry him. Eventually. Didn’t she?

A
t four o-clock in the morning, Victoria was wide awake. The truth was, she’d been awake all night and hadn’t even tried to sleep. The chilled air coming off Newport Bay caused her to shiver beneath her silk shawl. Or perhaps it was the excitement of her impending adventure.

The sky was still black with night. A few lingering stars and a half moon provided some light as she walked ahead of Mr. Cushman down the gangplank to
Lady Caroline
, a luxury steamboat her father often chartered. It was the only vessel lit up among the many others docked at the private marina.

The lap of the waves and their footsteps echoing against the wooden planks seemed especially loud at the early hour. But it wouldn’t be long before the air would be alive with the sounds of area fishermen readying their sloops and heading out to catch the mackerel, butterfish, and even squid that she loved to eat every summer. The lobster fishermen would be rowing out too, in their dories, manning their boats and setting their traps.

Mr. Cushman still hadn’t informed her of their final destination, even though she’d interrogated him on the short ride over. All she knew was that her father was waiting to say good-bye at the steamer.

As she stepped on board, Mr. Cushman reached for her arm and steadied her. He didn’t speak but guided her with the pressure of his hand toward the lounge. Thick tapestries hung in the windows, but a sliver of light emanated from a gap where one of the curtains had been pulled slightly aside.

The gentle sway of the boat and the rumble of the steam engine below her feet only added to her sense of adventure. Even though she was running away under dire and dangerous circumstances, and even though she knew she should be sad that she was leaving Nathaniel behind, she felt strangely free. She breathed in deeply of the damp sea air and relished its coolness against her cheeks.

Mr. Cushman rapped twice on the lounge door and it swung open immediately to reveal her father. He pulled her into the elegantly furnished room, and Mr. Cushman quickly shut the door behind them. She was surprised to see they weren’t alone. Her father’s longtime friend Judge Baker was sitting at a glossy oak table and rose at the sight of her. Although he was older than her father, with silver hair and a short clipped beard and mustache, he was every bit as distinguished.

“There’s been a slight change of plans,” her father said exchanging a glance with Mr. Cushman. “Would you like to tell her or shall I?”

“Go ahead, sir.” Mr. Cushman had placed their bags on the floor near the door and now stood stiffly surveying each window and door.

Her father cleared his throat. “We feel it’s in everyone’s best interest if you and Mr. Cushman actually get married instead of merely pretending.”

“What?” Her knees nearly buckled at the news. She fumbled for a chair, but Mr. Cushman beat her to it. He pulled one out and helped her sit. The chandelier above the table swayed, making her feel even more off-kilter.

“I know it’s rather strange and sudden,” her father said, “but we’ve talked this through for the past few hours and have decided that the disguise will work best if you’re married rather than pretending.”

“But what about our futures? Nathaniel—”

“The marriage will be in-name only,” Mr. Cushman explained and her father quickly nodded. “At the end of the month of hiding, we’ll get an annulment.”

“Judge Baker has drawn up the terms,” her father interjected. “Mr. Cushman has already signed a legal and binding agreement that stipulates he’ll walk away from you without a making a single claim to your fortune, either now or in the future. And if he does so, he’ll be subject to prosecution.”

She glanced from one man to the next until her gaze came to rest on Mr. Cushman’s grave face. “I don’t understand why it’s necessary to get married when our acting married would suffice.”

Her father spoke before Mr. Cushman could. “The marriage certificate will allow Mr. Cushman to stay with you wherever you go, especially if anyone should question your liaison.”

“But who would question it?” she persisted. She wasn’t opposed to the idea of marrying him for a month. Not really. Not if they would get an annulment at the end and no one would ever be wiser to their ruse. Even so, she didn’t understand the proposal, or the fact that her father was so willing to go along with it considering all the implications a temporary marriage could have if anyone ever found out.

Weary lines had formed at the corners of her father’s eyes, and the angular lines in his aristocratic face were hardened with frustration. “Whoever is making these attempts on your life will be looking for a wealthy, single woman. Not someone who’s married. So if getting married temporarily will help save your life, then I’ll consider anything to protect you, Victoria.”

But wasn’t marriage sacred? How could she enter it lightly, even for her protection?

“Where we’re going,” Mr. Cushman added, “we have to be married or I could get myself and others into a great deal of trouble.”

“Then let’s find a different place to hide,” she suggested.

“We’ve considered every feasible option.” Her father sighed as though in defeat. “And Mr. Cushman’s hiding place is the best and safest of them all.”

She was quiet for a moment, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She trusted her father’s judgment. He’d clearly agonized over how to keep her safe. If he thought a temporary marriage was the best plan, then she had to accept it. She reached out for her father’s hands and squeezed them.

Her father pressed a kiss against her fingers. “You’re the most precious gift your mother and I have. We don’t want to lose you.”

She smiled tenderly at him. “You know I’ll do whatever you and Mr. Cushman believe is in my best interest.”

Before she knew what was happening, Judge Baker had pushed a piece of paper and pen in front of her. She signed her name where he indicated. Then he passed the paper to Mr. Cushman who did the same. The judge pronounced them man and wife, and they were done. The whole affair took less than a minute, and she felt completely unchanged as though it had never happened.

Her father and the judge didn’t linger. Her father shook Mr. Cushman’s hand. “Take good care of her,” he said gravely. “If you break your promise to keep everything professional and proper, you’ll wish you’d never met me.”

“You have nothing to worry about, sir. She’s absolutely safe with me.”

Her father wrapped her into an embrace. “Be a good girl for Mr. Cushman.”

She mimicked Mr. Cushman’s confident assurance. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“I mean it, Victoria. Promise you’ll behave, stay out of trouble, and not do anything that might compromise your reputation.”

She kissed his cheek. “I promise.”

By the time the sun had risen, Victoria and Mr. Cushman were well on their way into Buzzard’s Bay.

The boat was deserted except for the captain in the pilot house and a couple of crew members below in the boiler room. “I figured it out. We’re going to Boston,” she told Mr. Cushman as she reclined on one of the cushioned deck chairs in the shade.

He leaned against the rail watching the paddle wheel rhythmically spraying water and didn’t reply except to turn his attention upon her.

“Shall I call you by your given name now that you’re my husband?” She batted her eyelashes at him in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He didn’t blink an eye.

“Since you’re so enthusiastic about it,” she said, “then I shall take that as my sign to do as I please.”

“I think you would do as you please whether I’m enthusiastic or not.”

She smiled.

His hand was stuffed into his trouser pocket and from the movement, she could tell he was twisting something around and around. She’d never seen him nervous before and the thought that he might be even slightly worried about their travels today made her sit up.

“We’ll be safe, won’t we?” She hated that her voice caught.

He nodded. “Your father paid the pilot and crew handsomely to stay silent.” His features were more somber than she’d ever seen them.

“Then what’s bothering you?” she asked.

He removed his hand from his pocket, crossed to her, and held something out. As she took it, she realized it was a simple gold ring with a tiny engraving of roses at the front. “You’ll need a wedding band,” he said. Without waiting for her to slip it on, he returned to stand at the rail once again, his back and shoulders stiff as he peered out over the water.

She knew she shouldn’t be hurt by his abruptness, that their marriage was in-name only and would be over in a month. Even so, she couldn’t hold at bay the doubts that came creeping back in. What if God didn’t want them to play at an institution meant to be revered? Was Tom having doubts too?

When they docked in Bourne, they boarded a stagecoach. She’d expected the coach to take them north along the coastal road to Boston and was surprised when, after only an hour or so, they stopped in the small town of Sandwich.

They purchased tickets and headed up the gangplank of another steamer, this one a far cry from the private luxurious boat they’d ridden on that morning. Not only was it small, but the white paint that hadn’t yet peeled away was a dirty, smoky gray. The deck was warped in places and some of the rail slats had fallen away. She was taken aback further when Tom led her down the steps to the boiler deck filled with children running around, babies fussing, and parents attempting to manage the unruliness. She started to protest and insist that Tom take her upstairs to nicer accommodations, but he ushered her to an empty spot, claiming that the crowded area was the best place to hide.

Before she could argue with him further, an older couple took the bench across from where she sat. The man unrolled a newspaper from under his arm and began reading. not seeming to notice her and Tom in the least. However, his dour wife, attired in all black, apparently decided that she and Tom were to be her entertainment for the afternoon. The woman stared openly as Victoria instructed Tom to fetch her shawl from her bag. When Victoria proceeded to ask him to close one of the windows because of the draft, the older woman pursed her lips as if she didn’t believe in men doting on women.

“He’s such a good husband, isn’t he?” Victoria held up the wedding ring Tom had given her on the
Lady Caroline
. “We just got married.”

The woman’s brow quirked skeptically. “Is that so? I would have guessed he was your manservant.”

“Oh no,” Victoria said quickly. She obviously wasn’t playing her role believably enough. Although Tom had doted on her, he’d been much too silent and aloof, always on duty, noticing everyone and every detail. Even now, he was standing next to their bags, his feet braced and his arms crossed. Indeed, he looked more like her hired help than her husband.

Victoria stretched to reach his hand. “Come sit down and relax, dearest.” At first he began to pull away, but she tightened her grip on his fingers and forced a smile. “This woman doesn’t believe you’re my husband,” she said under her breath. “We certainly can’t have her thinking that, can we?”