It was late when they returned home, but the household was still awake. When William had dropped them off at the newspaper building, he’d informed Lincoln that he would be picking his father up at the train station and taking him home, before returning for them.
“Ah, Lincoln,” his father greeted while rising from his chair as they stepped into the drawing room. “It’s good to see you, son, and you, too, Victoria.”
Meeting them in the center of the room, his father gave Victoria a hug and a kiss on the cheek, before embracing Lincoln in a hug, which he returned solidly. The trip to Florida was the longest his father had ever been gone.
“I hope you had time to get caught up on all the wedding plans,” Lincoln said as they separated. “I figured Audrey would need a couple of hours for that.”
“She did, and I’m afraid she’s not done.” His father shook his head. “Thank you for filling in for me, I knew I could count on you.”
“It was my honor,” Lincoln replied. “I hope all is well in Florida.”
“You and I will discuss that later,” his father replied quietly, before saying, “I am glad to hear that you’ve been thoughtful enough to get Victoria away from all the wedding plans once in a while.”
“That, too, was my honor,” Lincoln replied.
“Can I get the two of you a drink?” his father asked. “Your mother was going over the list of things that need to be completed this week, and it may take a while longer.”
“I’ll get the drinks, including one for you,” Lincoln offered.
For the next hour or so, while the conversation was consumed with wedding plans, Lincoln’s mind wasn’t. Images of the day, of Victoria laughing and hiding her face behind his shoulder, of standing on the terrace in the night sky and telling him about building snowmen and sledding down hills, were flashing in his mind. He wanted to relive those moments, and live more moments like them. With her.
He was a collector of evidence, and his gut, his heart, told him that she’d enjoyed the day as much as he had, but feelings and thoughts weren’t evidence. How could he know that for sure? She’d offered to stay longer, in order to help him. That wasn’t love. She was a very caring person, liked helping others, he’d seen that with the fire victims.
She was so caring that he knew he couldn’t tell her how he felt. Not after what she’d told him about why she didn’t want to find the love of her life. She’d been hurt by love, so that was the last thing that she wanted. He had to treat this like a case, where he kept some evidence hidden until revealing it would guarantee a win.
What if there was no guaranteed win? Was he willing to risk his goals, his longing to make a difference for the masses, for something that might never happen?
His attention was brought back to the room by movement, and he rose, bade good-night to the women.
“I was glad to see that I wasn’t the only one whose eyes glazed over during all that,” his father said.
His astuteness is what made Walter Dryer one of the best-known lawyers in the state, and Lincoln wasn’t surprised that his father had caught his inattentiveness. Sitting back down, Lincoln rested an ankle upon his opposite knee. “I always assumed a wedding was little more than two people and a preacher showing up at the same time.”
His father laughed. “To a man, but to a woman, it’s much, much more.”
Lincoln wondered if it would be that way for Victoria. He doubted it. From her clothing to her thoughts and actions, she wasn’t like other women. Those were only a few things that made her so appealing.
“I lied to you.”
Lincoln looked at his father. “Excuse me?”
His father leaned back in his chair. “I lied to you. I haven’t been in Florida this entire time. Your mother knew, but she and I were the only two, besides your uncles John and Frank, and decided that no one should know the truth. There were too many variables in the outcome, and with the wedding so close, we didn’t need the gossip if word got out.”
“If you weren’t in Florida, where have you been?”
“England. Your uncle Troy was exonerated.”
Shock had Lincoln sitting up straighter. “How? What happened? Where is he?” A flash of fear struck. “Is he—”
“He’s alive, and well, and in Florida. He’ll be staying at the summer beach cottage for a week, then will travel up here, after the wedding, when things have calmed down.” His father shook his head. “Like you, I never believed he was guilty, capable of murder. Neither did John or Frank. Of us four boys, Troy had the softest heart. I remember once when he was little, and John, being a couple years older, punched him. Mother told Troy to punch him back, but Troy shook his head and said that he couldn’t, because he loved John too much to punch him.”
Lincoln rubbed at the smile that formed. He could see Troy saying that. All three of his uncles were good men, but Troy had been special to him. “I can’t believe it. That he’s free. What happened?”
“I’ve had English lawyers working on his case for years, searching for the smallest bit of evidence, and we finally got it.”
“What was it?”
“Fingerprints.”
“Fingerprints?” Lincoln asked, with his gaze quickly flying to a picture on the wall. Not Victoria’s picture. Just a picture, but he was thinking about hers.
“Yes, fingerprints. The English have been using them for a while to solve cases, and I believe, before long, the entire world will be, too.”
Lincoln listened with great interest as his father explained how another man had been a suspect in the murders, because he was a known thief who had broken into other homes during that time, but it could never be proven, until the man had been arrested on another charge. Then a magistrate agreed to listen to one of the lawyers. Upon hearing that news, his father had sailed to England to help at the trial.
“As impossible as it seems,” his father continued, “the constable still had the murder weapon. A knife he’d retrieved from the scene and kept in his desk because he too didn’t believe it had been Troy. The only two sets of fingerprints on that knife were the constable’s and the thief’s. The thief broke down on the witness stand and confessed after the prints matched his. He’d broken into the house through Willamette’s bedroom window, looking to steal jewelry. The groom had seen him, hurried into the house and up to Willamette’s bedroom. The thief killed them both, then jumped back out the window, and admitted to seeing Troy riding up the street.”
“Had Troy seen him?” Lincoln asked, wondering if that could have allowed this case to have been solved years ago.
“No, he’d been too focused on getting home, on seeing Willamette, to notice anyone. It was such a sad event, tragic, but I’m glad truth won out.”
“The impossible, possible,” Lincoln said, his thoughts going back to Victoria.
“Yes. Troy doesn’t want gossip, because his return is sure to create some, to overshadow Audrey’s wedding, so I won’t tell anyone else, but once the wedding is over, he’ll be home. Living just up the road from us.”
“It’ll be good to see him,” Lincoln said, nodding to himself at one more thing that he’d been wrong about all these years. Not his uncle’s innocence, but in how he’d thought marriage had ruined Troy’s life. “Very good to see him.”
With all that had been on her mind, Victoria had expected to be kept awake by wandering thoughts all night, but hadn’t been. She’d slept so soundly that she woke up late. That was evident by only Audery and Roseanne sitting at the breakfast table when she entered the dining room.
She hid her disappointment at seeing Lincoln’s chair empty and allowed herself to be drawn into the list of the day’s appointments. Final dress fittings and alterations this morning, a trip to the florist’s greenhouses this afternoon to choose flowers, and then an evening dinner at the Palace Hotel, where the wedding reception would be held on Saturday, after the wedding services at the church. Dinner would include both Audrey’s and Jake’s families now that Walter and two of his brothers were back in New York.
Victoria couldn’t help but think of the fourth brother. Troy. The one no one spoke about. What had happened to him was so sad, and it seemed unfair that his family, except for Lincoln, had forgotten all about him. It didn’t seem right, either, and she wondered if there was something that could be done about that.
She had met Audrey’s other uncles, John, who lived up the road, and Frank, who lived down in Florida. Both of the uncles oversaw divisions of their shipping company, and were married with grown children, who would also be in attendance, as well as a number of grandchildren.
There had been a large number of children at the circus yesterday, carrying colorful balloons tied on sticks. She’d felt a tightening in her chest, knowing that as an old maid, she’d never know the sound of a house filled with children. Not her children.
It couldn’t be helped, though. She was now completely certain that she didn’t want to act upon the fact that she’d fallen in love with Lincoln. That had happened. There was no denying it, and that meant it was more important than ever for her to not give in to that love. If something were to ever happen to him, she would be worse than her mother. Worse than being hollow. She’d be dead inside.
However, even knowing that, she had decided that she would remain in New York long enough to help him with his advertisements. She wanted him to become attorney general, to help as many people as possible. When she did go home, she could be happy, knowing that she’d helped him make his dream come true, and that would be enough. It would have to be enough.
The fittings and alterations lasted all morning, and the flowers took up the afternoon, and neither did much to get her mind off Lincoln. It seemed that nothing could do that, and the skipping of beats that her heart did when she entered her bedroom to put away her purse and saw Lincoln sitting in the chair near the window completely stole her breath.
“Sorry to invade your privacy,” he said, “but I need to talk to you.”
Her hand had flown to her chest, and could still feel the rapid beat of her heart. “All right,” she said breathlessly.
He had stood up and was also holding her paper-wrapped picture in his hand. “Let’s go to my study.”
“Has something happened?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
She dropped her purse, not caring that it landed on the floor, and followed him out the door. His study was on the same floor, but on the other side of the large house, past the water closet and the main stairway.
Inside the room, she immediately asked, “What happened?”
He closed the door. “Someone tried to set Webster’s Department Store on fire early this morning.”
“Oh, no!” She followed him to the table, where he set down her picture, on the same table she had weeks ago. “Was anyone hurt?”
“One of his night watchmen ended up with some burns while putting out the fire,” Lincoln replied. “The whole place would have gone up in flames if they hadn’t been there. Webster hired additional watchmen recently, fearing something like this might happen.”
“How did the fire start?”
“Alcohol bombs.” He pointed to his desk, where a bottle sat with a charred rag sticking out of it. “That one hadn’t broken when they threw it through the window and the watchman put it out.”
“It didn’t break when it hit the window?”
“The thugs broke the window out with rocks first, then threw in the alcohol bombs.” He was carefully unwrapping her picture. “The watchmen heard the glass breaking, and ran to the area, saw two men toss in the bombs.” He set aside the paper and turned, looked at her with a serious gaze. “One was Elwood.”
An icy chill encased her. “Did they catch him?”
“No, the watchmen were too busy putting out the fires, but the one identified Elwood. He also works as a salesman, and was there on Saturday. Recognized Elwood as the man who followed you and Audrey, and said hello to you. He told the police, and they are looking for Elwood, to bring him in for questioning.”
Filled with fright, she couldn’t think of anything to say, or do anything except tremble.
“Come here,” Lincoln said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She laid her head against his chest. The warmth and comfort of his arms made her feel more than safe, but her safety had never been her concern. “I know I’m safe, but others aren’t, and that’s my fault.”
“None of this is your fault. Elwood was corrupt long before now.”
“I should have known he was following us. I didn’t think—”
“Stop,” Lincoln said, leaning back to look at her. “It’s not your fault. I told you that because I believe we have his fingerprints on the alcohol bomb. If we can get him arrested on an arson charge, I’ll be able to bring up other charges, including your stolen property.”
“I don’t care about that anymore, I just want to see him arrested.”
“The more charges, the more likely he’ll be kept behind bars, which is where he belongs.” He kissed her forehead, then released her. “I’m going to get a magnifying glass from my desk.”
“Will that work?” she asked. “The article that I read said that they use a special powder to make the fingerprints visible, so the design could be seen by the jury.”
“We’ll see. I mainly want to examine the prints on your picture, so I know what to look for on the bottle. I used a cloth to pick it up this morning, and hope that no one else had touched it before then. The night watchmen said they hadn’t, and I know the police didn’t touch it.”
She carefully lifted the thin protective board off the picture. “How did you hear about the fire?”
“John Webster called me early this morning, right after the watchmen called him. I went down there, was there and at the police station most of the morning. Then went to my office to draw up charges.” He arrived at her side with a magnifying glass. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come home.”
“We were picking out flowers, but you could have just looked at the picture. You didn’t need to wait for me.”
“Yes, I did,” he said, touching the tip of her nose. “I like having your help.” He leaned down and held the magnifying glass over the picture. “Point out exactly where they are.”
She pointed to the prints, and took a turn at looking through them with the magnifying glass. “You can see every swirl.”
“I know. Let’s check the bottle, now.”
They walked to the desk, and Lincoln knelt down to examine the bottle.
“Tell me if you want me to turn it,” she said. “I’ll use the cloth and only touch the very top.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already found them. I can’t say they are identical, but they look the same to me. Kneel down here and take a look for yourself.”
She peered through the glass and was shocked and elated at the same time. “They do look similar. Very similar.”
“I think so, too.”
She stood. “Why were you at the police station?”
He grinned. “Convincing them that Europe is using fingerprinting, and they should, too.”
“You did believe me.”
“Yes, I believed you.” He set the magnifying glass on the desk and took a hold of her hands. “I’ve always believed you. It was the fact that a set of prints wasn’t enough proof to have Elwood arrested, not when you hadn’t filed a police report.”
“I didn’t dare.”
“I know.” He tugged her a bit closer. “Fingerprints just had my uncle Troy exonerated.”
“What?”
“It won’t be known until after the wedding, but the real killer was found, and convicted because of fingerprints still on the knife, all these years later.”
He went on to tell her the entire story, and her heart rejoiced for him and his family. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. “That’s such wonderful news.”
“It is, and it’s also great that we have an eyewitness identifying Elwood. If they find him, and if they fingerprint him, as they said they would, upon arrest, and if those prints match this bottle, it’ll be enough to keep him in jail until his court date. If the judge agrees to no bail. That will be the next obstacle. Getting a judge who isn’t already bought off by Alderman Kelley.”
“Sounds like a lot of ifs,” she said.
“There always are.” He rubbed her back with both hands. “There are ifs in everything.”
“Like what?”
“Like what would you say if I said I want to kiss you.”
Happiness exploded inside her and she stretched onto her toes, so their lips were mere inches apart. “If you said that, I’d say yes.”
“You would?”
She nodded.
The moment his lips met hers, she wondered if she truly could be content to become an old maid. He made her entire body come alive. She’d never felt so many things all at once, or in so many places.
Lincoln had always enjoyed his family. And Jake’s for that matter. They were good, fun people, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he’d much rather be having a simple picnic with Victoria than sitting at the hotel, eating the five-course dinner that was stretching the meal into hours. She was at the table too, but clear down at the other end, on the same side as him, so he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of her. His mother was slacking in her matchmaking. She’d insisted all the women sit together so they could discuss wedding plans.
How many times could the same subject be discussed?
He also wondered how many times a man could kiss a woman before the thrill wore off. Before the desire to repeat it eased. That certainly wasn’t happening. The more times he kissed Victoria, the more he wanted.
Some flavor of dessert was put in front of him, and he took two bites before setting his fork down. “Excuse me,” he said to those sitting next to him. “But I have a need to stretch my legs.”
It was as if he’d just given permission, because nearly every other man at the table set down their forks and pushed their chairs back, while verbally agreeing with him. They were in a private dining room, and clusters soon formed of those who hadn’t been able to converse with each other while seated at the long table.
Jake was beside him, and said, “That was the longest meal of my life.”
Lincoln nodded. “You can say that again.”
“The pomp and circumstance of the wedding is for the bride,” Jake’s uncle Roy said. “The wedding night is for the groom.”
Others chuckled, and slapped Jake on the back, ribbing him with more wedding banter, before the subject changed to the new horse track, the stock market, and other subjects that men preferred. Lincoln joined in, offered his opinions now and again, but was more focused on glancing towards the tables where the women still sat. Mere seconds had passed between two glances when he noticed Victoria’s chair empty. He stepped sideways, to see around the cluster of men surrounding him, and his heartbeat kicked up a notch as he saw her walking towards him.
He didn’t bother to excuse himself, just left the group, meeting her halfway from the table. “Is something amiss?”
Her expression was dull as she leaned closer and whispered, “I’ll deny ever saying this, but I’ll be so happy when I don’t have to comment about dresses, shoes, flowers, gifts, guest lists, food, cake, vows—” She sucked in a breath. “The list just goes on and on.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” he replied.
“Thank you,” she said, sounding as if he’d just saved her from a truly dastardly deed.
“Do you want to take a walk?”
“I would, but...” She glanced around the room. “Think we can sneak out without being noticed?”
He laid a hand on her back to steer her about. “I truly don’t care if we are noticed.”
That became Lincoln’s mantra the rest of the week, because it was true. He didn’t care what others thought. Other than Victoria. They formed a silent communication. All one or the other had to do was catch the other’s eye, and the other would find an excuse for them to take leave together, right up to the wedding day.
It was a grand affair, synonymous with prestige, status, and old money that would be talked about for years to come, which had been his mother’s goal. He was happy that she’d got what she wanted, and that Audrey and Jake got what they’d wanted. There was one thing that he’d got, that he had wanted—to meet Victoria’s family.
Her mother was personable and pretty, yet quiet, almost like a piece of fine china that everyone was afraid to touch because she might break. Her younger sister, Eva, was also quiet, but in a shy way, like she didn’t know exactly where to step, but her grandfather made up for the quietness of the other two. Emmet Biggs was the kind of man that dime novels had been written about. He spoke his mind whether it was what others wanted to hear or not, yet did so in such a way that no one was offended, but rather befriended, and left wanting to hear more. To know more about this gruff old man and his adventures.
Lincoln could instantly tell that was where Victoria had gotten her spirit, and her diplomacy, along with her caring nature. Her grandfather adored her, and her sister, as well as their mother. That was clear by the way he looked at them, and spoke of them. It was also why Victoria was so devoted to them.
That hadn’t slipped past Emmet, though. He’d made a point of telling Lincoln that Victoria being in New York the past month was the best thing that could’ve happened to her, and her mother. “It’s the only way Ramona will ever break out of her shell,” Emmet said. “She was always delicate, but sadness turned her into a turtle who barely sticks its head out. I respect her pain, but it’s not right the way she became the child and Victoria became the mother. Victoria needs to have her own life. That’s why I sold out, moved us all back here. I was afraid I’d been wrong, until tonight. Victoria has a shine in her eyes, a light in her soul.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “And you, young man, are what put it there.”
“We have become good friends while she’s been here this time,” Lincoln admitted.
“Good friends, my ass,” Emmet said. “You’re in love with the girl, and she’s in love with you.”
Lincoln opened his mouth, but a denial wouldn’t emit.
“You can’t fool an old man, and a good lawyer can’t lie, that’s who’s sitting right here, now, isn’t it? An old man and a good lawyer.”
Lincoln nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“She’s afraid,” Emmet said. “Afraid of love, because she lost a lot at a young age. I always knew it would take a good man in order for her to find it. So did Ramona, and that’s why she paraded a gaggle of men before Victoria, like she was the golden goose, but Victoria wasn’t looking for a gander, do you want to know why?”
“Yes,” Lincoln answered.
“Because Victoria’s a swan.”
Lincoln grinned. “You’re right about that.”
“She’s afraid to risk losing anything again, even a hairpin,” Emmet said. “It’s up to you to show her loving someone isn’t a risk, it’s a refuge. That she won’t be losing anything, while gaining everything.”
“Do you have a suggestion as to how I can do that?” Lincoln asked, hoping he’d finally found someone who could answer that.
“You know.”
“No, I don’t believe I do.”
“I believe you do.” Emmet touched his hand. “Ambition isn’t created, nor is it destroyed, it just changes form. Whether it’s family, career, or business, it’s there, and it will manifest.”
“Make the impossibe, possible,” Lincoln said, merely remembering conversations with Victoria.
“See, I knew you knew,” Emmet said. “Now go, I’ve taken up enough of your time, ask her to dance.”
Lincoln still didn’t know. The old man made sense, yet hadn’t provided any answers, and Lincoln knew he wasn’t going to get any. “I will, and I thank you for our conversation.”