To Want the School Teacher (2 page)

He tried to recoup.
“Thomas Kincaid, I er, forgive me I never knew anyone who could
read anything but English. Comment allez-vous profiter de la livre
jusqu'à présent? (
How are you enjoying the
book so far?)

She relaxed.
"Pardonnez mon impolitesse. Une femme voyageant
seule ne peut pas être trop prudent." ( Forgive my rudeness. A
woman traveling alone can not be too careful.)

“May I”
Thomas hand reached for the book before she could answer. Her
response was automatic as his fingers tightened around the spine of
the book. He chuckle. She blushed.

“
The Country Waif
by Madame George Sand.” An eyebrow raised before
he asked, “I hear she has, let's say a rather unconventional view
about passion and the innocent.”

She
blushed again. This time Thomas thought
beautiful
.

“Thomas
Kincaid.” he repeated, “May I join you for a last cup of coffee
before you go?”

She nodded and
motioned with an open hand. “Please, Victoria Trent. I'm please to
make your acquaintance.”

He pulled out the
chair opposite from her. Placed the closed book next to her empty
plate and signaled the waiter all at the same time.

“So,
Tell me, Victoria Trent, how does someone know French so well that
you can read it? Forgive my forwardness, but in a little bit you'll
be on that stage, and sadly we'll never speak again.”

A tingle of pink remained
on Victoria's cheeks and she answered.

“Your
looking at a graduate of the Bradford Academy of Bradford,
Massachusetts.” Her chin raised a tad higher.

He smiled and the
expression in her eyes gave away she liked what she saw. Thomas
liked what he heard as well as saw.

“A grand
accomplishment for sure. I rarely get to enjoy meeting an educated
woman.”

Victoria was about to
bristle when she realize he wore no smirk on his face.

“I don't
usually get that type of response. Usually, I am told I
inspire to be above my station. What a waste of
money and time to education a woman who will just aspire to be a
wife and mother.”

“Nonsense
and fore shame. Apparently, you haven't met the right kind on
people or man. Whether male or female how would you carry on a
conversation beyond hello if at least one of them wasn't learned.
And with both what simulating words must they share in public and
most intimately in private.” He pushed the envelope to see how
she'd respond.

She blushed deeper this
time. However, she refused to acknowledge being offended.

“Other
than French what other things have you mastered while at your
academy in Massachusetts?”

“I'm
qualified to be an accountant. I'm able to assist a solicitor of
the law and have a head for commerce. But of course, no one will
consider hiring me. A mere female.” She grinned as if it didn't
bother her, but it was very obvious it did.

Thomas made his decision.
He wasn't proud of it. Perhaps had there been more time he might
have found another option.

“I see the
waiter is busy. I'm a regular customer here.” He stood, “ let me
refill you cup.” Both cups were gone before Victoria had a chance
to answer.

The two man talked too low
for anyone to make out what they discussed.

“...for
your tooth ache. You still have it here?”

Fenmore asked, “Are you
sure?”

“It's the
only way. That coach leaves in less than an hour. Just add it to
her drink.” Thomas turned back in a moment of hesitation and smiled
gallantly at her. He took the vial from Fenmore's shaking hand and
poured its contents into Victoria's cup. The spoon clanged against
the china cup as he stirred the two spoonfuls of sugar he added and
whispered, “Send for Keith. Tell him to bring the
buckboard.”

After placing the refilled
cup in front of Victoria he took his own chair and sat.

“A toast.
May you discover someone truly worthy of you and may your education
be put to good use.”

Victoria laughed. The two
cups of coffee raised and chimed with a an echoing ping when they
connected.

“Very
unusual toast, Mr. Kincaid.”

“I think,
Miss Trent, you're a very usual woman.”

“Thank
you, and you make interesting company to be sure. I don't know when
I had such odd fun.” Victoria turned to see the time on the wall
clock. “However, I must be going. I don't want to miss the
stage.”

Fenmore moved to the front
door locked it and his body hid his hands as turned the open sign
over so it now read closed.

“It seems
George just posted the new departure time. The stage coach will be
leaving at least a half hour late.”

“Oh dear.”
She said.

“A
reprieve Miss Trent. Do drink up. No telling when you'll have a
chance enjoy real food or good coffee again.” Thomas nodded as the
woman across from him drained her cup.

“I know
this stage heads west. How far are you traveling? May I
ask?”

“All the
way I'm afraid to Sacramento, California. After I finished Bradford
Academy my mother's sister in Philadelphia took sick. I stayed with
her for three years. She passed six weeks ago. When her brother-in
law heard about her passing he sent funds for me to travel to
California. I thought maybe I'd be better accepted out there than
back east.”

“So you on
an adventure you may say?”

“Yes, I
guess... you... could say... that.” She was struggling to form the
words.

Thomas watched close when
she forced her eyes back open. She seemed to have a difficult time
holding her head up.

“Oh dear.”
It was a plea.

“Is there
something wrong Miss Trent?”

“No .. I
mean, yes.”

Thomas quickly moved the
cup and saucer as Victoria gave up the battle and her head eased
its way onto the table.

He pushed the few strands
of hair that came free and fell across her face.

“I'm
afraid, Miss Trent, you just found a brand new
adventure.”

She didn't respond.

The pounding at the
backdoor announced the arrival of Keith. Fenmore moved hastily
through the dining room and into the kitchen area.

The two men didn't share a
word when the door opened allowing the visitor to enter. Moving
past Fenmore Keith headed toward the front dining room.

Keith stopped up short and
took in the scene before him.

“Brother,
what have you done?”

Thomas couldn't explain the
raw emotions cascading through him like a waterfall crashing,
churning, and bubbling debris up as the water slammed into the
plunge pool below.

For a few seconds he stared
at Keith. Then a smile, a bare hint of one nudged his lips.

Thomas turned and glanced
at his fingers they never let go of Victoria's head. His fingers
unconsciously continued to stroke her hair as if to soothe her.

“I think,
brother, I have just found my wife to be, and the next
schoolteacher of Edenville.”

“By
knocking her unconscious? Really, Thomas?” He looked at the pair
and shook his head.

“Its just
a bit of laudanum. Left over from Fenmore's toothache. Now, I need
your help to move her to the house. Did you bring a
wagon?”

Keith murmured something
about family and few other words Thomas couldn't make out, nor did
he think he wanted to.

***

Thomas picked Victoria's
emasculated body up. Keith held the backdoor of his brother's house
open. Their eyes met as they passed. Thomas read the pity in his
brother's eyes for a moment both men were held in check. He didn't
know if the emotion was for him or the woman draped over his
arms–maybe both.

“If you
hurry to the depot you can get her luggage off before the coach
leaves. If not wire ahead to have it returned here.” His words were
a dismissal.

Victoria sank into the soft
mattress when placed in the bed. Thomas pulled the chair next to
the foot of the bed from where it sat in the corner overlooking the
garden from the upstairs window.

He needed a plan. She was
too intelligent to be convinced if he pleaded love at first sight.
She'd most likely flee the instant she could if he reasoned with
her to stay and see what might happen between them as he wooed and
tried to court her. He didn't like it, but he knew he could do it.
Hopefully, forgiveness would come later. He muttered, “For the good
of the town.”

Silently, he closed the
door behind him. On his return he moved about the room setting the
scene. He returned to the chair when finished and waited for
Victoria to stir.

“Well, has
my sleeping beauty awaken?”

Victoria's head jerked
toward the sound. Her confused state still very apparent. She tried
to move her arms. When she discovered she couldn't he watched as
the fear and realization of her predicament manged to make it
through the remaining haze of the drug. She screamed.

He stood. She pulled her
legs beneath her and squirmed as far as she could moving herself up
close to the headboard. He moved to the side of the bed. His eyes
never breaking away from hers.

“You can
scream all you like. No one will be answering you. Or, Miss. Trent,
you can behave and find a way to better the plight you seem to find
yourself in.”

“Why you
contemptible, abhorrent, execrable, and vile man. Release me this
minute.”

Thomas leaned over her and
leered. “Actually, my dear Miss. Trent you need to watch what you
say and do. For you have not idea of the abominable and monstrous
things I might be capable of. Do you now?”

What ever her next words
were he watched her swallow them down as true terror filled
her.

“That's
better. Now, at the moment you're just another pig in the poke, so
lets us just see what I have on my hands.”

He reached for and jerked
the sheet from her body.

The bed frame creaked and
shook as her tried to free her hands from it.

“Stop it.”
It was a demand and it carried the authority to make it
so.

She froze.
It was obvious she was remembering... '
For
you have not idea of the abominable and monstrous things I might be
capable of.'

A tear ran down her cheek.
He stripped her while she lay unconscious.

He used one finger to touch
her. He could have been using a pointer the touch was that
impersonal. He asked, “How did you get this scare.”

His finger touched the mark
on her right hip.

She wasn't going to play
his game and refused to answer him, until he moved his face closer
and barely whispered, “I asked you where did you get the
scare.”

“My cousin
and I was playing William Tell and he missed the apple.” Thomas
understood she wasn't being glib.

“And this
one.”

His finger now rested on
the spot on the side of her left breast. He didn't comment how
enticing he found her deletable orbs to be.

Victoria didn't hesitate to
answer this time.

“I was
climbing a tree and the branch I was on gave way and I dropped on
to the branch below and kind of got impaled. I think I was about
seven years old. It bled viciously. Apparently, some dirt or maybe
a piece of bark remained for it got infected, and mother took me to
the town's doctor and he him drained it. Before I grew sicker. I
was...” She was babbling.

He cut her off with, “Thank
you.” He pulled the sheet back over her. He needed her to fear him,
but only to a point. He wanted her to understand he was in charge
of this new relationship.

“Are you
going to kill me?”

It took him a second to
steady himself enough to answer.

“No.”

“Are you
going to hurt me?”

“Do I need
to hurt you?”

He watched her tremble at
his cryptic reply.

A second
tear traced the path of the first one before she found the courage
to ask more of him. He knew she would. Woman like her needed
answers. It didn't matter if they liked them or not. They just had
an intense need to know.

“What do
you want with me? Why have you done this?”

“What does
any man want with a beautiful woman?”

He eyes scanned her body as
if there was no covering. There was no way to stop the other part
of his body from reacting. Victoria might be innocent, but she
wasn't stupid, nor naive. Her lips formed and unspoken, oh god.

He pulled the knife out of
his right boot. She whimpered. Thomas leaned over her and cut her
hands free.

“I'm sure
you're still feeling the effects of the laudanum. Rest, I'll bring
you something to eat in a while.”

Victoria didn't move a
muscle until Thomas left the room, and she heard the lock turn.

Thomas heard the sobs. He
refused to do anything to comfort her. That would come later.

***

Victoria turned over and
faced the room. The day was fading, and yet there was enough light
left to see the details of the room. A large wardrobe sat across
the room from the bed. It filled up most of the wall. A corner
table with a lamp finished that far wall's decor. From the foot of
the bed she saw a oak letter writing desk sat between two
windows.