but at the ensuing silence, she looked back into the mirror.
After wearing Ruth’s simple, loose dresses, this new form-fitting polonaise with its long bodice and narrow sleeves was constricting. She could hardly lift her arms. And the tightly tied-back skirt made walking difficult, especially with the pointed high-heeled shoes her mother had packed.
“How did I ever manage?” she said to herself, casting a glance at the corset on the bed. She hadn’t attempted to put it on, hadn’t even wanted to.
She ran her fingers along the row of buttons down her chest and the trimming of looped bows. The two shades of blue were pretty, and the garment accentuated her figure. If only she didn’t feel so trapped in it.
With what was probably her hundredth sigh, she checked her hair again, repositioned her hat, and decided she couldn’t stall any more. She had to return home. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to let go of her feelings for Tom. And the longer she stayed, the more chances she had of making a fool of herself by begging him to love her back. Actually, she’d already made a fool of herself one too many times in her attempts to declare her love.
He didn’t reciprocate. She needed to accept that. And the best way to do so was to go back to her old life.
She finished packing, set her shoulders, and marched to the door. “I’m ready to go,” she said, swinging it open. She expected to see the back of Tom’s suit coat pulled taut across the breadth of his shoulders. But strangely, he wasn’t there. She peered up and down the hallway and didn’t see him anywhere.
Where had he gone? He’d been so careful since setting foot in Provincetown. He hadn’t wanted her to change in Nathaniel’s room, hadn’t wanted her to be alone, and had told her he would be waiting outside her door. So why did he leave?
She checked the stairway and then went back to the room and peeked past the curtains to the balcony. She didn’t see him anywhere.
The door across the hallway opened. Theresa stepped out with her valises looped over her arms and closed the door behind her.
“Have you seen Tom?” Victoria asked.
“No. But I heard him tell Nathaniel that he was leaving.”
“Leaving?”
Theresa nodded curtly before starting down the hallway. “He told Nathaniel that you were in good hands now and that you didn’t need him.”
Victoria frowned. She couldn’t imagine Tom ever saying anything of the sort. “Are you sure?”
Theresa stopped so abruptly that both of her bags swung forward without her. When she spun to face Victoria, her expression was calm, but she couldn’t hide the irritated twitch in her cheek. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Victoria offered her friend a smile, although it felt wobbly, just like their friendship. “Tom’s so careful about guarding me. I didn’t think he’d leave yet.”
“Maybe he has more important things to do than coddle you.” Theresa started down the wooden stairs, her footsteps echoing sharply.
Victoria’s shoulders deflated. Maybe Tom had decided that he’d rather not go back with her. Maybe he didn’t want to face her father. Or maybe he didn’t want to be her bodyguard anymore and just didn’t know how to tell her.
She rushed after Theresa as fast as her constricting skirt would allow. She caught up with her in the hotel lobby. “You’re acting a bit strange. Is anything the matter?”
“What makes you think something is the matter?” Theresa didn’t slow her steps to wait for Victoria’s answer, but instead exited the hotel, giving Victoria little choice but to follow after her.
“You’re getting upset at everything I say.”
Theresa halted in front of a waiting carriage. “Maybe you’re just overly sensitive.”
“You’re angry with me, aren’t you?”
Theresa didn’t answer the question.
Victoria took her silence as an affirmative. “I knew it. You’re upset that I left Newport without telling you where I was going into hiding.”
“Your powers of perception truly astound me.” The sarcasm in Theresa’s voice was so caustic that it once again stung Victoria.
Victoria was at a loss for what to say to her friend. Fortunately, a young boy approached the carriage carrying Victoria’s luggage, and his presence and the commotion of loading their things covered the awkward moment. When the coachman finished strapping their bags, he opened the carriage door for them.
Victoria climbed inside, although she was sure she looked as stiff and encumbered as a wooden toy soldier. Sitting was even difficult. When she finally managed to get