Authors: Kate Shepherd
MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Romance: BETRAYED: (New Adult Motorcycle Club Navy SEAL Romance) (Contemporary Military Romance Thriller) (65 page)
Victoria Bramwell ran her hand across her slightly swollen belly as she walked across the street in busy downtown Charleston. The war still raged on, but seemed far away in that moment. Areas of Charleston still carried on as though only the rest of the world had gone mad, contributing to the surreal feeling in her gut that something was very wrong. Her thoughts went to her unborn baby. James did not know yet; she had not sent the letter telling him the wonderful news. She hesitated, the letter in her other hand, because she did not want to tell him and maybe cause him to worry even more. She noted the tone of fear and near desperation in his last two letters. She knew from his letters that the North was making it hard for the Confederate soldiers, and yet the South refused to be cowed. More and more men left Charleston every day to fill in the ranks, to take up the call of States’ freedom.
Victoria smiled to herself as she remembered James’ very passionate display during dinner the day before he joined. One of his distant cousins, Thomas, had snuck into town the day before and had dropped in on Bramwell Estate to ask for help with his cause. Thomas Bramwell was on the other side of the fight, or was supposed to be, but rather than openly fighting for the North, he had joined a secret movement in an effort to help get as many slaves as possible to freedom. The Bramwells were a large family scattered from New York to Philadelphia and down to Charleston, so it was rough on the family as different members took their sides. Still, when a family member showed up on the doorstep, they were welcomed in. So Thomas was.
What struck Victoria most about the man was how different he was from James, not just in ideals, but also in person. James was fair and blond, of medium build, and of gentle tone. He had just finished his time abroad, having spent several years in England to attend one of their universities. He was well versed in politics and legalities, and as a hopeful for local or state politics, he felt very strongly about the individual rights of each person and also each individual state’s rights to make decisions as best fit its own people.
Meanwhile, Thomas was dark skinned, with black hair, and tall with a booming voice and echoing laugh. He had not chosen to follow a more scholarly path. He was content to someday fill his father’s shoes in a factory up North. He was rather brash and demanding, and his view was that slavery was the single most driving point of the division of the country, and the best way he could help was to see its demise by helping people find freedom in the North or beyond the borders of the South to the West. Politics did not matter to him, seeming like wasteful talk in light of the human factor at stake.
As the two debated passionately over dinner that evening several months before, Victoria and her in-laws had eaten in silence. Thomas had attempted to draw the others into the conversation, but no one took the bait. Then, as dinner had wrapped up, James made his decision to join the Confederate Army, to the complete dismay of Victoria and the disdain of his cousin.
Now, it seemed like a distant memory as Victoria made her way to the post office where she hoped to post her letter to James. As she walked up to the front of the building, she saw the postman step out and tack a page to the bulletin board where the casualties were listed. As he turned back to go inside, he saw Victoria and grew pale. Seeing his reaction, the unease in Victoria’s belly grew. She glanced at the old man as she stood before the pages pinned on the board. The other two pages were from the day before; she had already read them, so she moved on to the new page.
Her heart sank and her knees grew week as she realized she was staring at the name of her husband, right at the top of the alphabetical list, classified as a casualty. The postman stepped up to her and took her elbow to lead her into the building, but she stopped him as she peered at the paper. After James’ classification as a casualty were the letters “DT.” She looked at the postman. "What do those letters mean?”
The old man looked up and down the street, “You better come inside, Mrs. Bramwell. Come. Come. I have a sturdy chair you can sit in, and I can make you some tea before you head back.”
Victoria was confused and shocked, and she wanted to just sit down and cry and scream, but the energy to do those things seemed too much. She allowed herself to be led into the building. Once she was settled, the forgotten letter now crumpled with no place to go, she dug out her handkerchief and wiped the wet tears off her face. She sat there, numb, as the old man placed a cup of tea in front of her.
“There. Drink that. It will do you right good.”
Victoria smiled weakly in thanks. As she lifted the tea, she said, "Please, do you know what those initials stand for?”
The postman sat opposite Victoria. He leaned close and said in a whisper, "Yes, ma’am, I do. 'D' is for a deserter, and 'T' is for a traitor. I am sorry, Mrs. Bramwell, but your husband was killed for being a deserter, and therefore is also a traitor.”
As the words sank in, Victoria did not realize she had dropped both the teacup and the crumpled letter as blackness engulfed her.
The following day, Victoria’s mother-in-law, Grace Bramwell, propped the pillows behind Victoria after the family physician recommended she remain in bed for a few days to allow the shock wear off and to protect the life of the baby. Grace was truly like a second mother to Victoria. When Victoria had returned to American with James, she expected to be looked down on. After all, not only was she British, but also she was not from a well-to-do family. In fact, she had only met James because she worked as a governess to a wealthy family, and she had literally run into him on one of the outings to the library that she was so fond of taking her charges on. However, when she and James arrived at the family home in Charleston, Grace had taken her in as though she were one of the family, and made every effort to make her feel at home.
As Grace wiped Victoria’s brow, Victoria could see the grief in the dear woman’s face. She reached out and took her hand, "I am sorry...so sorry...”
A single tear rolled down Grace’s cheek, but she gave no other sign of emotion. "I just cannot believe it. Surely there was some mistake. Wars can be so confusing, you know. There is no way James was a traitor, and not a deserter either!”
Suddenly overcome, Grace gave in to her grief and the two women held each other and cried for several moments, until there was a knock at the bedroom door. Grace hastily dried her eyes and sat up regaining her composure.
“Yes?”
One of the maids stuck her head in. "Madam, there is an officer here to speak to you.”
Grace looked alarmed. “I see. I will be down in a moment.”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied the maid before closing the door behind her. Grace stood up. "Get some rest, my dear, and think of nothing except my sweet grandchild you are cooking in there.”
Victoria nodded, still too grief-stricken to even attempt a smile, and watched Grace leave the room. She dozed off for a bit, but woke with a start when Grace rushed into her room.
“Get up! Get up!” Grace said in a loud whisper, "James must have done something terrible. There are soldiers here to collect you for questioning.”
Victoria sat up and sprang out of bed, rushing to the wardrobe to put on a dress. Grace saw the dress and put it back into the wardrobe. “No. Victoria, you don’t understand. They think you are involved in some sort of conspiracy. You have to leave, but you mustn’t be recognizable. Jane is coming down with one of her dresses. You must get dressed and leave out the servants’ entrance right away.”
Victoria started trembling, not understanding completely the trouble her mother-in-law thought she was in, but she knew soldiers in the house, when it was not for a formal event, were not a good thing. She silently turned to her mirror and started putting up her hair. “Won’t they think something is wrong if I don’t go down?”
Grace shook her head. "No. I told them you were not at home. I asked them if they would like to come back later, but they insisted they wait for your return. So I have Charles and Fiona serving them tea and a light lunch in the front parlor. You only have as long as it takes them to eat. I am certain they will ask to search the house.” She wrung her hands nervously and a light sweat broke out on her forehead. “Oh, I wish I knew what this was all about.”
Grace went to the door and peaked out just as Jane walked in with one of her maid’s dresses, complete with apron and bonnet. The Bramwell house had slaves on their plantation property, but in the Charleston house, they opted for white servants, so it would not be out of place that Victoria be seen in a servant’s clothing, provided she was not recognized. As Victoria got dressed, she looked at Grace. "Where do I go?”
Grace heard the fear and trepidation in the young woman’s voice, and her heart broke. The poor dear: pregnant, husband dead, and now accused of being part of something sinister. As a mother, Grace barely knew how to grasp it herself, but to look at her son’s young bride, so far away from her own family and all that she had known, this had to be most unsettling, terrifying even.
Grace moved away from the door and took Victoria’s hands in her own as Jane helped tie the apron and placed the bonnet to cover Victoria’s thick, curly, blond hair.
“Victoria, Jane will accompany you to the edge of town. She knows where to go. You will stay there, out of sight, until Mr. Bramwell and I come up with a solution to this mess. Maybe he has some contacts he can discuss this with so we can clear James, you, and our family. Though,”Grace paused as a thought crossed her mind, "if he cannot, our family is ruined. Our name will be complete and utter mud. You...you don’t worry about that, my dear. We will do what we can, and we will send for you as soon as we can.” Grace kissed the younger woman on the cheek, and then she pulled the brim of the bonnet down low to shield Victoria’s bright blue eyes. “Now go!”
Victoria grabbed her Bible and her small bag with a change of under garments, some small trinkets from her past, and a necklace that James had given her, and with a teary glance at Grace, she followed Jane silently to the back stairwell, into the kitchen, and out the servants’ door.
The two rushed across the garden and out the back fence into the alley that ran between the huge Charleston homes. Jane said nothing, but she held Victoria’s hand firmly in her own and forced the two to walk at a normal pace. Victoria’s heart was pounding so loudly in her ears, she was certain someone could hear it, but she trusted Jane to do as she was asked, and she let herself be led down alleys and side streets until, after what seemed an eternity, the young women stood in front of a run-down establishment with a sign on the front saying it was a boarding house.
Victoria stared at the building, frightened to step inside.
“It’s okay, ma’am. I volunteer here. These is fine women who will take good care o’ ya and your babe. You ‘ill have a nice bed, a quiet room, and home-cooked food e’ry day.”
Victoria nodded and followed Jane inside. Jane introduced Victoria to the women, a pair of spinster sisters who ran the establishment, and they in turn took her up a flight of stairs to a room that overlooked a yard at the back. Beyond that, an expanse of woods indicated they were quite literally at the edge of Charleston. She glanced around the room and realized Jane was already gone. Still, as she viewed the space she was going to reside in, she took a breath of relief, for the room was not much different than what she had been used to living in as a governess, and before that as a parishioner’s daughter in England. The older women showed her where the lavatory was located as well as a back door where she could come and go privately, then they told her when meals were and left her in peace.
Alone with just her thoughts, Victoria sat on the bed and gave in to the emotions that she had held in check. As the uncertainty of her life unfolded in her mind’s eye, she put her face in her pillow and sobbed until she fell asleep.
Chapter 3
Victoria stayed in the boarding house as she was told, though she interacted with the other women and the matrons only at meals. She discovered on her second day there, when she forced herself to leave the confines of her room, that the boarding house was in fact a halfway house for women who found themselves with child outside of marriage. All the women were there until their babies were born, and then they had to choose to keep the child or give it up for adoption, which the matrons assisted with. All the residents were further along in their pregnancies than Victoria, and none were willing to share their stories, which suited Victoria fine, so she pretended to be a simple servant and spoke very little, though she was something of a novelty with her British accent, which was so different from the Southern accent of the Carolinas. Still, she was able to brush of questions, and the other women left her alone.
Her one highlight in the day was just before lunch when Jane would appear with baked goods to be donated to the house with a note secreted under the aromatic goodies. Victoria always tucked it away out of sight and read it behind her closed door. The little notes were sweet verses of encouragement from Grace, letting her know they were still trying to find a way to clear James' name and bring Victoria safely home. A lawyer had been hired, but the Army was also tasked with finding Victoria, because someone believed she had specific information from James. Grace intimated that it would be a process, but encouraged Victoria to sit tight. But one week passed into two, two passed into a month, and still Victoria remained hidden in the boarding house.
Six weeks after Victoria’s arrival, Jane dropped in earlier than expected with a huge basket. As she entered Victoria’s room, she took note of Victoria’s growing belly. At the questions in Victoria’s eyes, Jane spoke: "Madam said this were too important to write down, so she asked me to tell you first hand. Thomas has a proposition for ya. Madam says that the lawyer were of no use, and the Army is more d’termined than e’er. She says you should expect Thomas in a day or so, and I will not be coming back for a bit ‘cause I were bein’ followed for a few days.”
Victoria was alarmed at the last bit, but was also concerned. "What does Thomas think he can do? He is a known sympathizer for the North. I am surprised he is showing his face here.”
Jane shook her head. "No. He heard ‘bout James, an’ he writ to Madam ‘bout it. She were able to git a letter to ‘im, and he let her know he were in town, but is also hiding out. I dunno what he proposes, but Madam knows an’ I think she is happy with whate’er it is.”
Victoria stood at her window and watched a couple of the women stroll around the back yard. If the Army was that insistent on finding her, she knew she needed to leave, and the thought of waiting two days seemed like forever. Still, she had no choice. She turned to Jane.
“Please tell Grace I will wait, of course. Please tell her how horrified I am, and sad that I will not get to say goodbye. She is and always will be the mother I never had.”
Jane nodded and reached into the basket. “A’most forgot!” She pulled out a coin purse and handed it to Victoria. “She said this were to help ya start anew.”
Victoria knew just from the weight of the bag that Grace had given her a great deal of money. Instinctively, Victoria embraced Jane. “Please tell her thank you for me, Jane.”
Jane’s eyes grew misty as she backed out of the room. "Yes, ma’am. I will.” Then she turned to hurry on her way.
After Jane closed the door, and Victoria put the bag under the mattress of her bed, she moved to the window. As she stood looking out, movement to the side of the yard caught her eyes. She saw a man in uniform talking to the women over the short hedge that bordered that side of the yard. The women nodded and waved back toward the house. Victoria carefully moved the curtains back into place, but peaked through a crack and froze in fear as the man appeared to look right at her window. Suddenly, she knew she did not have long, and two days could be entirely too long to wait for whatever it was Thomas proposed.
She moved away from the window and opened the box where two dresses lay in the bottom with a pair of sturdy boots. The previous tenant had left the clothes, and when Victoria had tried them on, they had fit her fine with room to spare for her growing belly. She pulled one of the dresses out and took off the servant’s dress. Laying it in the box, she quickly slipped on the light brown dress with its cream coverlet. Then she put on the mid-calf boots. She carefully parted her hair and made two braids, which she then bound into a tight bun that fit neatly under the bonnet.
She pulled a bag out from under the bed and packed the extra dress, undergarments, Bible, keepsakes, and her own walking shoes. She then took the coin purse and opened it. She put a third of the coins in the bag, wrapping the coins in her undergarments. Then she tucked a few into her bodice, a few in the pocket of the coverlet, and the rest she tucked into her boot. As she stood up and hooked the straps of the bag over her shoulder, Victoria was startled by a sharp knock at the door.
She laid the bag on the bed and went to the door, the hairs on her neck standing on end.
“Yes?”
A man’s voice whispered loudly, "Victoria, let me in!”
Recognizing Thomas’ voice, Victoria hurriedly opened her door to see her husband’s cousin standing on the other side, glancing up and down the hall warily. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
Victoria stood still with worry clear on her face. “I just got word you were coming, but you were not supposed to be here till tomorrow or the day after!”
Thomas took in Victoria’s bonnet, boots, and the bag on the bed. “Clearly, you were not going to wait.”
Victoria nodded. “I just saw a soldier at the back hedge talking to some of the other women. They pointed to the house, and I think they pointed out my room. I figured I had no more time to wait.”
Thomas nodded and grabbed Victoria’s bag. “You would be right. So we better get going.”
Victoria didn’t move. "But I have no idea what your plan is. What is your idea? How am I going to get out of here?”
Thomas grinned slyly at Victoria. "Why, Mrs. Bramwell, you are going to accompany me west as my beautiful young and glowingly pregnant bride, but instead of Mrs. James Bramwell, you will be Mrs. Thomas Bramwell.”
Victoria shook her head. “But that won’t work as long as we are here. People will know who I am, and you too!”
Thomas took Victoria by the arm and led her down the hall to the back stairwell and down to the private entrance.
“I did say we are heading west, didn’t I?” he smiled at Victoria.
She stammered, “Well, yes, but...”
“We leave right now.”
As they stepped outside into the twilight, Victoria glanced in the direction of the hedge where she saw the soldier earlier. He was no longer there, so she allowed Thomas to lead her out of the yard and past a couple buildings before he turned toward the forest that edged that part of town.
“Now?” she asked hesitantly as they made the cover of the trees.
“Yes. The sooner we put Charleston and the Carolinas behind us, the better.”
Victoria felt suddenly overwhelmed, and she tripped over something on the ground. Thomas adjusted his grip on her bag and put a strong arm around her waist to help her stay upright and steady. As scared as Victoria felt in the evening escape, having Thomas at her side, she felt strangely safe. She glanced sideways at him and noted the firm set to his jaw as he led them deeper into the trees. Suddenly they entered a small clearing where a wagon and team of horses waited. A young man sat on the back of the wagon and jumped down as the couple approached him.
“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell,” the young man greeted as he shook hands with Thomas and tipped his hat to Victoria. “I am Simon Collins. I was told to meet you here and to see you safely to the border.”
Victoria was going to ask the young man how it was that he had not been conscripted into the Confederate Army, but her question was answered as he turned to walk to the front of the wagon, revealing a hump in his back and a severe limp from a deformed leg. She watched as the young man climbed into the wagon, and then turned to Thomas.
“Thomas, wait. I don’t know if I can do this. I mean, why are we going west? Where in the West are we going? I am so confused; I still don’t understand what happened to James or why I am in danger.”
Thomas put Victoria’s bag in the wagon and faced her. He gently put his hands on her shoulders as he leaned close so he wouldn’t be overheard.
“Once we leave the Carolinas, I will tell you what I know of James. As for why the West— because the North won’t have you, the South won’t have either of us, and the West is a place of new beginning. Maybe once the war is over, you can come back to Grace, and she can help you with James’ child. For now, it is you and I.”
He gently lifted Victoria’s chin and looked her deep in the eye. "I only want to make sure you stay safe. James and I disagreed, but he was the closest thing I had to a brother, and above all he was my friend. He would want you to be safe, and that is something I can make happen. Do you trust me?”
Victoria met Thomas’ gaze and searched his face. She saw sincerity there, and she knew that he was right. As much as the two argued, James had loved Thomas and had told her so on more than one occasion. She remembered when James had confided in her that he thought the reason they fought so hard was because of the deep affection they held for each other.
“Yes. I trust you.” she replied in a whisper, “but I am still so scared.”
Thomas kissed Victoria on the forehead and whispered in reply, "I know.” Then he led her to the front of the wagon and, after helping her into the middle, he climbed up beside her. He nodded at Simon who clicked his tongue at the horses, and the first part of their journey began.
After a week of hard travel, the trio was well out of the Carolinas and on their way to Louisville. As they had traveled, Victoria learned a great deal about Thomas and their new young friend, Simon. Simon, who had been born a plantation owner's second son, had been more or less cast out due to his deformities. As a result, he had spent more time among his father’s slaves than he had with his own family, except for his mother. When she passed away a few years before, Simon had run away and had been on his own ever since. He finally found a niche with a group of people who were helping runaway slaves move north into Canada. The boy was tough, but he was also very bright. He picked up on the ruse between Victoria and Thomas right away, though he had not let on. So when it was time for him to leave the couple at the Carolina border, he asked if he might continue on with them to Louisville. Thomas had reluctantly agreed, while Victoria was relieved to have the teen along with them.
Thomas, meanwhile, fascinated and scared Victoria a little. He clearly cared that she was safe, and he showed her a great deal of attention, and even incredible tenderness. Victoria assumed it was simply because she was family, but she found herself leaning into Thomas when they were driving the wagon, and longing to hold his hand when they had to hide for fear of being discovered. They traveled at night more often than during the day as they maneuvered around camps and envoys and groups of displaced families leaving behind the war-torn countryside. However, as much as Victoria felt herself being drawn into the man, she was also afraid of him and the secrets he was clearly keeping.
The route Thomas insisted they take on their way out West especially puzzled her. He insisted on looping north to Louisville before angling southwest, and the route made no sense to Victoria who was familiar with the layout of the country and some of the major routes that headed almost directly west. When she had pressed Thomas to understand his reasoning, she saw a shadow pass over his face, and rather than answer her, he changed the subject.
Still, in other ways, as she watched Thomas interact with Simon, or passing strangers, and even with her, she realized for all his differences from James, in many ways the two were alike. There was definite masculinity to Thomas that James had not had, but the deep empathy Thomas showed to everyone he met reminded Victoria so much of James it made her heart ache. Plus, Thomas gave away several times that he knew a great deal more about politics than he had ever let on back in Charleston. He spoke a at length about the war, the way it was turning out, the driving mentalities, and his own hopes regarding the outcome.
During one such conversation, Victoria asked, "Do you think we will ever be able to go back?”
Thomas paused as he held the reins in his hand after taking over for Simon, who was napping in the back of the wagon. He thought for a moment. "I hope so. Then again, after a war, it is not likely to be the same, no matter whom the outcome favors. Going back will mean accepting that it will be like starting over.”
Victoria nodded, understanding what he meant. “I suppose so. I cannot imagine going back and not being able to share that life with James.” She stopped. They had not mentioned James since leaving Charleston, and now that Simon was still with them, she was not sure Thomas would tell her what he knew. “Thomas, please, I need to know. Do you really know what happened to James?”
