knowing who had captured her, where he was taking her, or what he would do to her. The terrible feeling of helplessness. One look into the maid’s frightened eyes had spurred Victoria to try to do something to save them while she still could. Of course, Mr. Cushman had scolded her severely for leaning out the carriage and throwing her shoes, but he had reluctantly admitted that the distraction had likely saved them.
“I have a place I can take her,” Mr. Cushman said. “Where no one will find her until I’m ready for them to.”
“What do you have in mind?”
The voices faded to whispers for several moments, and she sighed in frustration.
“And you’ll be chaperoned?” her father’s question was barely audible, but his concern was loud enough.
“Yes…” Mr. Cushman hesitated. “But Victoria will have to pose as my wife.”
The suggestion was so unexpected that Victoria sucked in a breath.
“No,” her father replied. “That’s taking things too far.”
“An unmarried man and woman traveling together would stand out. We’d be much easier to trail for anyone who might search.”
That made sense. If he acted as her bodyguard, his usual protective demeanor and habits would likely draw too much attention to them. But if they were disguised as a married couple. . .
Warmth coiled in her belly at the thought. Rationally, she knew that he wouldn’t have suggested it if there were any other feasible plan. Even so, the idea of spending a month with Mr. Cushman pretending to be his wife sounded deliciously appealing.
Another silence stretched in her father’s office, during which her mind spun with all the possibilities, particularly the thought of Mr. Cushman doting on her and calling her sweetheart and spending time with her, not in the background as her bodyguard. But always next to her side. As her husband.
“No,” her father said again. “I don’t want to put her reputation at risk. I have nothing against you, mind you. You’re a fine young man. But if anyone discovered the plan, they could spread rumors, and then she’d ruin her chances with Nathaniel.”
“He loves her enough to go along with it.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think she’d be willing to go to such extreme measures.”
“Let’s ask her.”
“Very well,” her father responded.
“You can come in, Victoria,” Mr. Cushman said.
Victoria jumped. How had he known she was standing outside the door listening? She put her hand to the knob and opened the door a crack.
Her father glanced up in surprise. “Have you been listening to our conversation?”
“I’m sorry, Father.” She slipped through the door and closed it behind her. “I shouldn’t have. But when I heard you talking about me…”
The familiar scent of leather and chamomile enveloped her as she stepped into the dark paneled room that served as her father’s office when he was in Newport. It was smaller than his other offices but had an enormous picture window that gave him a spectacular view of the ocean. The sun was beginning to set and had left the sky streaked with clouds of pink and purple over the calm water. A few distant sailboats and yachts were taking advantage of the calm summer evening. Even a coal barge hauled by tugs passed in the distance. A gentle breeze was blowing through the open window, bringing the sound of the constantly lapping waves.
Her father and Mr. Cushman both stood while she crossed the room and positioned herself in the chair next to Mr. Cushman’s. When the men had reseated themselves, she folded her hands in her lap and tried to control the unexpected tremor in her fingers.
“Would you be so kind as to inform me of the newest threat contained in the letter?” She looked pointedly at the sheet that lay on the desk in front of Father. She caught a glimpse of the scrawled handwriting before he grabbed the paper and folded it.
Father shook his head. “I don’t want to worry you.”
“It’s another kidnapping threat,” Mr. Cushman replied. Father scowled at Mr. Cushman, but he continued, unperturbed. “Victoria needs to know the truth about the danger she’s in. The more she knows, the better she’ll cooperate.”
In the fading evening light, Father’s handsome face contained a haggardness that Victoria hadn’t seen there before. He studied Mr. Cushman through narrowed eyes for a moment before nodding. “Very well, Mr. Cushman. Go ahead.”
Mr. Cushman met her gaze, and the seriousness within his dark eyes reminded her once again of the gravity of her predicament. “We believe the note is written by the man who