Victorian Dream Read Online Free PDF

around-the-clock bodyguards to watch over them.”
    “Bodyguards.” Her anxiety doubled. Seeking comfort and support, she grabbed the embroidered pillow at her side and crushed it to her chest. “You believe this to be necessary?”
    “Until matters are sorted out, I must insist.”
    “Thank you, Captain Garrison,” Aunt Abigail put in. “Under the circumstances, you seem to have done all we could hope for.”
    She wanted to agree, knew she should agree, should thank him for his efforts, but anger and fear overrode good manners. She was back on her feet, pillow in hand. “How could this have happened?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and to her own astonishment, she threw the embroidered cushion at him.
    The Captain dodged the harmless missile then appeared crestfallen, but he held his ground and her gaze. “I shall never forgive myself for not ensuring their safety,” he acknowledged.
    “For heaven’s sake, Trelayne.” Surprise was evident in Aunt Abigail’s voice as she rose to stand at her side. “The man is not a clairvoyant. No one could have foreseen such a turn of events.”
    Now it was her turn to feel guilty. She had known there would be a catastrophe. Was Captain Garrison any more at fault than she? Anger and fear twisted together in a knot in her chest, threatening to stop her breathing. Perhaps all the resentment was for her own inability to stop what had happened, not for him.
    He studied her for a moment, genuine sadness tempering his expression. Then with surprising quickness and determination, he collected his hat and coat. “May I please speak with whoever is in charge of matters during Phillip’s absence?” he requested.
    “Yes, of course, Captain Garrison,” Aunt Abigail replied. “That would be Merrick. I’ll notify him at once.”
    “Thank you,” he said. “And please, call me Walker. Unless protocol dictates otherwise, I should think using our Christian names might be allowed. I’ve a feeling we shall be spending a great deal of time together.”
    His words imparted a feeling of comfort as well as a shiver of anticipation, adding confusion to the list of emotions running rampant through Trelayne’s mind.
    ****
    Leaving the women to their privacy, Walker opted to wait for Merrick in the immaculate white kitchen. Sitting now at the long wooden table, he watched Cook knead bread dough, a previous batch was baking in the oven. It smelled good, it smelled safe—it made it difficult to believe what had transpired back home was real.
    Thank goodness, their first meeting was behind them. He thought it had gone fairly well. They had taken the news with minimal hysterics and no fainting. And while Miss Trelayne’s anger and mistrust were not unexpected, nor misplaced, she seemed of a sound mind and disposition. She was also beautiful, even more so than Ophelia, and again he wondered why she wasn’t married.
    He smiled, remembering the pillow she chucked his way. She had a bit of pluck and temper. Qualities he appreciated in a woman, not that it should matter. And where were these thoughts coming from anyway? Watching Trelayne as she embroidered, and being near her, had reawakened raw emotions deeply hidden since Katie’s passing. The resurrection of these feelings put him off balance. Not a good position to be in. He needed to get a grip. Clenching one fist, he rested it upon the table. He wasn’t here to make friends or instigate romantic liaisons—especially not with Phillip’s daughter.
    “I’m Merrick Hawkins,” the man entering the room announced. “I was told you wished to speak with me.”
    Walker rose and offered the older man his hand. “Yes, thank you. I’m Captain Garrison, Walker if you please. They explained to you what happened to Phillip and Ophelia?”
    “Aye, they told me.” Although the older man’s face was a map of wrinkles, his eyes were sharp, and his handshake firm. “Dreadful business. What can I do to help?”
    “Is