cup. All she could see were her mother’s amber eyes, hungrily scanning her face, trying desperately to see features that she never had seen and never would.
How must her mother feel? Victoria sloshed the tea around the porcelain and felt a painful heat slosh in her heart. Not only was her mother denied the pleasure of seeing her child, but she hadn’t been able to look at her husband for years either.
Victoria didn’t realize she’d been swirling the tea too high and fast until some splashed over the rim. She tried to ignore her shaking fingers as she replaced the cup on the saucer, but she couldn’t ignore the emotions spilling into her chest—emotions she didn’t want to feel, thoughts she didn’t want to think, the very real possibility that she could turn into her mother some day.
A rap on the door was Mr. Cushman’s signature call. She welcomed the distraction from very dangerous thoughts and feelings—thoughts and feelings that were better left locked away in a deep, dark chest at the bottom of the sea.
The door opened and Mr. Cushman walked into the sitting room, as composed and tough-looking as always. In one quick glance, he took in all the details of her appearance, her long damp hair, and the fluffy blanket draped around her, concealing all but the hem of her silk robe and her slippers.
“How are you doing?” Mr. Cushman asked, although she wasn’t sure why he bothered to ask since he’d likely surmised exactly how she was doing even better than she had herself.
“I’m well enough to go back to the party.” She wasn’t sure why she felt as though she must challenge him, except that she didn’t want him to think she was afraid of returning. Because she wasn’t.
He peeked out the window through a slit in the curtain before facing her. “We want you to stay away from Samuel.”
“We?”
“Your father and I.”
She picked up her teacup, took another sip. “You don’t think Samuel is behind Arch’s attack, do you?”
“I doubt it.”
“Then why are you worried? Samuel might be upset at Nathaniel, but he surely won’t attempt to harm me.”
“He may try to undermine the wedding plans.”
“Do you honestly think Samuel would try to prevent me from marrying Nathaniel?”
“Maybe.”
She was ashamed to admit the thought didn’t bother her. She lowered her eyes so that Mr. Cushman couldn’t read her thoughts and confront her again. Her sights landed upon the side table and the diamond bracelet. She wished she’d thought to put it away before Mr. Cushman came into the room.
“Nathaniel is desperate to keep you.” Mr. Cushman followed her gaze, and his meaning was all too obvious.
She gave a short laugh. “He’s a generous man. And he gives me presents almost every time we’re together.”
“Because he’s afraid he’ll lose you.”
“Because he’s sweet.” She hated that Mr. Cushman’s conclusions too closely mirrored her own, but she wouldn’t admit it to him.
Mr. Cushman shook his head. “He’s dense if he thinks he can win you through gifts.”
“Apparently among all of your other skills, you’re also the expert on how to woo a woman?”
His upper lip twitched with the beginning of a smile. “Only for a select few women.”
His words jarred her and reminded her that she wasn’t the first woman he’d protected, nor would she be the last. In fact, the final time they’d visited Arch before leaving New York, Mr. Cushman had indicated that he’d only stay until she left on her wedding trip. After that Arch would have to take over again, or they’d have to find someone else. Mr. Cushman had made it abundantly clear that he was there only temporarily and that he was past ready to move on.
She was ready too. After the wedding she wouldn’t need a bodyguard any more. Not with Nathaniel by her side day and night watching over her. Nevertheless, she still couldn’t stop from wondering what types of women Mr. Cushman had protected in the past and how she compared to them.
“So…” She toyed with the diamond bracelet, waiting for him to settle his attention on her fully before sweeping up her lashes and gazing at him with what she hoped was her most beguiling expression. “What number am I in the list of women you’ve guarded?”
“Four.” His placid expression didn’t waver. She should have known by now that Mr. Cushman was immune to womanly charms. She had no doubt he’d rebuffed many women over the years and had plenty of practice withstanding an extraordinary amount of