a daughter too. As Tom had scoured the old newspaper articles and gossip columns about her, he’d only shaken his head at the girl’s frivolities. A column from a month ago had indicated that Victoria Cole was planning a late June wedding in Newport to the oldest Winthrop son. The wedding was expected to be one of the most lavish parties of the summer season. If she made it to the altar. Which Tom doubted she would, if her past antics were any indication.
“I have to be honest, Mr. Cushman,” Mr. Cole said. “I wasn’t expecting someone as young and handsome as you.”
“Is that a problem?”
“It could be.” Mr. Cole’s expression was troubled. “Arch’s description of you led me to believe you were older and scarred.”
Tom had thirty wounds and scars of various shapes and sizes from his days as a Jessie Scout during the war. But he couldn’t think why that would matter.
“You’re clearly fit but much too good-looking for the job.” Mr. Cole sat back as though baffled by the problem—a problem Tom didn’t understand. As an unmarried man he’d made it his policy only to guard older women who were already married or widowed. Of course that didn’t necessarily stop complications. But if Mr. Cole thought his wife might be attracted to him, then he was forgetting one critically important point. His wife was blind. She wouldn’t see him. Ever.
Even so, if Mr. Cole didn’t approve, it was no loss to him. After all, he’d only agreed to the interview with Mr. Cole because of Arch. His friend and fellow scout had sent him a telegram after his attack and begged him to apply for the temporary position. Since Tom was between jobs, he’d already considered returning to America because it had been so long since he’d seen his family. When he’d discovered that Arch was in the hospital, he’d left Europe immediately.
The first place he’d gone after docking in New York City was to visit Arch. His friend had lain on his bed at Presbyterian Hospital, pale, limp, and weak. When he’d pleaded again with Tom to take his place as a bodyguard for the “lady of the house,” as he’d lovingly referred to Mrs. Cole, Tom hadn’t been able to say no. Arch had been like a father to him during the war, had taken him under his wing, and had saved his life more than once during their dangerous scouting missions. He owed it to his friend to take the job. It was the least he could do.
Even though Tom had planned to spend a little time with his family out at Race Point Lighthouse on Cape Cod, he’d wanted to do Arch this favor. Wanted to keep the Coles from giving Arch’s job to someone else so Arch could come back after he recovered from his wound.
“Arch had nothing but positive things to say about you,” Mr. Cole continued. “Truth be told, after the way he went on about your bravery and experience, I half expected a demi-god to come walking through the door.”
“Arch is a good friend. No doubt he exaggerated my skills.”
“I thought so too. But I received a telegram from Archduchess Gisela. And she confirmed everything Arch said and more.”
Tom nodded. So that’s what Mr. Cole had been doing. Checking up on him with his previous employer. Likely after getting the notice from the Archduchess, Mr. Cole had written a thank you in reply and sent it with the telegram boy.
“It would appear that you’re the best of the best,” Mr. Cole said.
“I may not be the best. But I certainly do my best.”
“Your list of past work references is quite impressive. Not only Archduchess Gisela, but also Princess Anna of Budapest and the Dowager Countess Elise. Why would you settle for a position with my family when you could have your pick of European royalty?”
“Arch asked me to do it.” Plain and simple. Tom didn’t like being in the States. There were too many ghosts that haunted him here. He was better off staying away and keeping busy in places where he didn’t have to think about all that had happened. Already only three days after docking, he was ready to go back.
Mr. Cole studied Tom again through narrowed eyes.
“It doesn’t look like I’m the kind of man you’re looking for.” Tom started to rise. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Cole.”
“You’re not wasting my time, son.” Mr. Cole motioned for him to sit back down.