His mind scrambled to find any clues that might link the attacker to Theresa, but he came away with nothing. However, Theresa certainly had the financial means to hire someone. She had the motivation. And she’d never been a particularly warm friend. Nevertheless, Victoria had always seen the best in Theresa, as she was apt to do with most people. She’d accepted and loved her friend in spite of her shortcomings.
The realization sent a strange shimmer through Tom. Victoria was a special young woman to offer her friendship and love so freely, as she’d done to him, even after he’d pushed her away. He gave a frustrated shake of his head. He didn’t need one more reason to care about Victoria. He already had plenty.
He fixed his attention on Theresa’s door and attempted to gauge what she was doing on the other side. If she was the person behind all of the attacks on Victoria, then what might she be planning next?
He tried to put himself into her situation, to think as she might. What would make the most sense for a desperate, lovesick young woman? If she realized that all of her attempts to win Nathaniel had failed, if she realized that Nathaniel was still in love with and determined to marry Victoria, what would she do?
A thousand scenarios played through his mind, and none of them pleasant. Of course, he could also think of dozens of ways to stop Theresa, and none of those methods were pleasant either.
In reality, he had no proof yet that she was involved in the attacks. He might be misinterpreting his sudden suspicion and making more out of her behavior than was there. Another perpetrator could, even now, be lingering somewhere in Provincetown, hired by one of Henry Cole’s competitors.
Tom needed to talk with Arch. Then he would have a better idea of the goings-on in and around Provincetown. He had no doubt Arch had learned of Nathaniel and Theresa’s arrival and had likely watched them for a time. If Arch had noticed anything suspicious, he’d relay it all to Tom.
Yet something in Tom’s gut told him he needed to talk to Theresa now. Just in case she was the one. Just in case she was planning something else. All he had to do was tell her the truth, that he’d sent the telegram to Nathaniel about re-scheduling the wedding, that Victoria didn’t love Nathaniel any more, if she ever really had.
Such news would reassure Theresa and could keep her from doing anything to hurt Victoria. He started across the hallway toward Theresa’s room, but as he reached the center of the hallway, her door swung open.
“I was just coming for you,” Theresa said, pulling up one of her gloves. “I was hoping you might be willing to carry my luggage down to the lobby.” She cocked her head toward the foot of the bed where she’d piled several bags and hatboxes.
Was she attempting to lure him away from Victoria’s door? If he carried the items downstairs and left Victoria alone and unprotected, Theresa wouldn’t have much time to do anything. But still, he couldn’t take that risk.
“I’ll carry your things,” he said, crossing to her doorway, “but I’ll need to wait to take them down until Victoria is ready.”
She shrugged one of her petite shoulders.
He entered into her room and stepped to the end of her bed. His fingers closed around the handle of one of her valises. At the same time, he sensed the presence of another person behind the door, even before he caught sight in his peripheral vision.
He started to spin, and his hand flew to the knife case strapped under his suit coat. Before he could grasp the weapon, a blunt object slammed into his head. The force and the excruciating pain sent him to his knees. Blackness seeped into his conscience, but he fought against it. He needed to stay alert for Victoria’s sake. If he didn’t, Victoria would be next.
With a groan, he tried to push himself up. He managed to dislodge his knife. But he was too disoriented, too stunned by the blow to move as quickly as he needed. The object rammed into his skull again. This time the hit knocked him flat. His forehead slammed into the floor. And everything went black.
*
At the sound of scuffling in Theresa’s room, Victoria paused in adjusting her bonnet of pale blue with a dark grey velvet trim. She listened for a moment,