“Well, you need to be in agreement with something else.” Judith pointed a finger at Victoria. “You will leave my friends alone, or I will do whatever it takes to see you put where you cannot hurt them. It’s already been recommended that I send you back to that finishing school in Switzerland, and I just may agree to that.”
Victoria felt a momentary twinge of panic. She wouldn’t show fear, no matter what. She was better than Judith and more capable. She wasn’t going to be cast aside.
“You have all the power right now, Judith, but just keep in mind that I’m not without my ways.” Victoria smiled. “If you aren’t careful, you might even find yourself without a fiancé, and wouldn’t that be sad?”
Judith laughed, which wasn’t at all the reaction Victoria had hoped for.
The others came into the room, still discussing Micah and what was to be done. Shaking her head, Judith continued to smile. The others ignored Victoria but looked to Judith.
“What’s so funny?” Camri asked.
Victoria wondered how Judith would respond. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Victoria is threatening to take Caleb away from me.”
Victoria raised her chin and met Camri’s gaze. To her utter frustration, Camri’s lips raised at the corners. Not only that, but Patrick and Kenzie were smiling too.
Camri shook her head. “My brother has no interest in selfish little girls, Victoria. However, he is a great advocate of education, as I am. I believe the time has come for you to advance your learning. I think tomorrow we should arrange for you to return to the finishing school.”
“I think so as well,” Kenzie concurred.
Victoria couldn’t control her rage. “You can’t do that! I won’t go. I’m not going to be forced back there, no matter what you say. I have friends in this town who will keep you from it. You’ll see. You’ll all be sorry that you ever took a stand against me.”
She dashed from the room and up the stairs to the protection of her bedroom. It wasn’t much in the way of safety, but Victoria locked the door behind her and leaned back against it. She wanted to scream and cry all at the same time. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone?
Pushing away from the door, she began to pace amidst the mess of gowns and shoes, stockings and hats on the floor and strewn over the furniture. She looked at her half-emptied trunks. First things first. She would put her things in order. That way she could be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. She could never hoist the trunks downstairs on her own, but if all else failed, she would stuff what she could in her small traveling case and send for the rest later.
Of course, they might not allow her to have her things. She frowned and considered that for a moment. Her wardrobe was expensive and fashionable, even if Grandmother had chosen rather modest designs. Victoria didn’t want to lose any of it.
“I must be calm,” she told herself. There was no sense in worrying about something that hadn’t happened yet.
She picked up a large green hat and placed it in an empty hat box. She’d never had to look after herself, and it stirred her anger to have to do so now. Nevertheless, she bent and picked up a pair of gloves. They weren’t mates, so she placed them at the foot of her unmade bed and looked around the room. She spied one of the matching pieces and retrieved it. She continued searching until she found the other, and as she worked, she formed a plan.
By one means or another, she would get word to Arthur Morgan and explain the urgency of her situation. She would offer him whatever he desired, so long as he came and took her from this place.
CHAPTER
19
Micah wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been a prisoner in the small, bare-walled room. There wasn’t a single window, nor a clock. His watch and wallet had been taken from him, along with his clothes. When he’d first come to after being hit on the head, Micah found he’d been dressed in canvas pants and a broadcloth shirt, the typical garb of local sailors, and manacled at the ankle. There was hardly even enough chain to walk. Probably to ensure he did nothing to try to escape.
The worst of it was the darkness. It was like being entombed. He sat alone in the dark, hour after hour, wondering when someone might come. It gave him a great deal of time to pray, which at the moment was all that was keeping him from complete despair.
The only way he could gauge time, the only reprieve from the darkness, was the daily visit from his jailers. There were two men, one large and barrel-chested, the other short and wiry. One held a gun on him while the other brought him a tray of food. They hung a lantern on the outside doorknob in order to give them enough light by which to work.
While Micah ate or pocketed the food on the tray, the same man who brought the tray took his waste bucket and empty water pitcher away. Both men would leave him in the damp darkness with his food and reappear later with the empty bucket and refilled pitcher. They’d leave those and take the tray away, and Micah wouldn’t see them again for what he deemed to be a full day.
If he used their visits to calculate, then he’d been a prisoner for five days. From the stubble of growth on his face, that seemed about right.
At the sound of a key in the door, Micah straightened where he was sitting on the side of the bed. The door opened with a groan, and the two men appeared. Light filled the room, causing Micah to blink several times as he adjusted to it.
“Well, it looks like you survived another night,” the man with the tray of food said. He plopped the tray down at the foot of the bed. “Hopefully you won’t be with us much longer.”
“Why is that?” Micah asked. “Are you going to move me to a hotel?”
The large man with the gun chuckled. “Yeah, that’s right. Gonna put you up at the finest hotel at the bottom of the bay.”
Micah shrugged. “It’s got to be better than this place.”
