excited and apprehensive about attending the festivities tonight. Vauxhall always proved to be exceedingly entertaining, and she was sure tonight would not disappoint. There was a concert of new music, and of course, the fireworks. Only one thing would remove her apprehension, though, and that would be if Finny declined the invitation.
She wasn’t sure what he knew—or if he knew anything, really—but Victoria had the sneaking suspicion that he might be on to her. Or that he was at least roused with a bit of curiosity.
What she worried about the most was that he might have seen her that morning. He hadn’t said as much, and it wasn’t like Fin to beat about the bush. They had been friends since birth, after all. They didn’t have that many secrets. Well, except for the ones that Victoria kept. But what good would it do to bring Fin into her plots? Simply knowing about it could land him in a heap of trouble, and Victoria preferred to protect her friends and family.
But now she thought about it, he did have secrets, didn’t he? Hadn’t he said something about buying flowers for someone the other day? Was it for a woman? Was he courting someone that Victoria didn’t know about?
And why did these ideas bother her so damned much?
She refocused her thoughts back to their carriage ride that afternoon. The more she played the conversation over in her head, the more she was convinced he had seen her. If that were the case, he would eventually come out and inquire about it. Knowing him as she did, he was probably waiting to see if she would confess to being in Southwark first. Well, if he knew her equally as well, he would know that she’d take her secrets to the grave. As it was, he didn’t really know her, did he? How could he when Victoria kept the most important aspects of her life hidden from him?
Something about that saddened Victoria, but she didn’t have time to ruminate on it. They had pulled up to the dock, and Fin waited for them on the small boat. Though they had ended their carriage ride on a bit of a brusque note, he was all smiles now. He waved and welcomed them aboard with a kiss to her mother’s hand and a handshake for both her father and brother. When it was Victoria’s turn for a greeting, his smile disappeared, and he only bowed his hello.
Any other day with any other man, Victoria would have found some smart remark about his lack of enthusiasm for her. However, no remarks came to mind. No witty retort to shame him for his behavior. Nothing. All she could do was stand there and try to hold back the tears that were a surprise even to her. Even worse than the tears was the knowledge that he knew. He had seen her in Southwark — of that she was most certain now. It was likely that his cold indifference would continue until she confessed that she was in Southwark that morning.
Sadness tugged even harder now, for she could never tell him where she had been or what she had been doing. If she did, he would forbid her from going again, at least not without a chaperone. Under ordinary circumstances, she might have allowed him to go with her. But these were no ordinary circumstances. They were dire. If she told him a little, she would have to tell him everything, and she just couldn’t do that. It was one thing to risk her own life. To risk hanging nearly every single night as she robbed the rich to give to the poor. To risk any number of diseases while she assisted at the hospital. To risk mugging or rape in the most undesirable parts of London.
But she couldn’t ask that of someone else. Not someone she cared about. Not someone she loved.
***
Fin hated this feeling. He hated being at odds with Victoria, even though neither of them had spoken as much to that end. Still, there was obvious tension, and it was his fault.
No. It was her fault.
Or was it? He wasn’t quite sure who was to blame. He only knew that Victoria wasn’t accountable to him, and if she didn’t want to tell him why she was
She wasn’t sure what he knew—or if he knew anything, really—but Victoria had the sneaking suspicion that he might be on to her. Or that he was at least roused with a bit of curiosity.
What she worried about the most was that he might have seen her that morning. He hadn’t said as much, and it wasn’t like Fin to beat about the bush. They had been friends since birth, after all. They didn’t have that many secrets. Well, except for the ones that Victoria kept. But what good would it do to bring Fin into her plots? Simply knowing about it could land him in a heap of trouble, and Victoria preferred to protect her friends and family.
But now she thought about it, he did have secrets, didn’t he? Hadn’t he said something about buying flowers for someone the other day? Was it for a woman? Was he courting someone that Victoria didn’t know about?
And why did these ideas bother her so damned much?
She refocused her thoughts back to their carriage ride that afternoon. The more she played the conversation over in her head, the more she was convinced he had seen her. If that were the case, he would eventually come out and inquire about it. Knowing him as she did, he was probably waiting to see if she would confess to being in Southwark first. Well, if he knew her equally as well, he would know that she’d take her secrets to the grave. As it was, he didn’t really know her, did he? How could he when Victoria kept the most important aspects of her life hidden from him?
Something about that saddened Victoria, but she didn’t have time to ruminate on it. They had pulled up to the dock, and Fin waited for them on the small boat. Though they had ended their carriage ride on a bit of a brusque note, he was all smiles now. He waved and welcomed them aboard with a kiss to her mother’s hand and a handshake for both her father and brother. When it was Victoria’s turn for a greeting, his smile disappeared, and he only bowed his hello.
Any other day with any other man, Victoria would have found some smart remark about his lack of enthusiasm for her. However, no remarks came to mind. No witty retort to shame him for his behavior. Nothing. All she could do was stand there and try to hold back the tears that were a surprise even to her. Even worse than the tears was the knowledge that he knew. He had seen her in Southwark — of that she was most certain now. It was likely that his cold indifference would continue until she confessed that she was in Southwark that morning.
Sadness tugged even harder now, for she could never tell him where she had been or what she had been doing. If she did, he would forbid her from going again, at least not without a chaperone. Under ordinary circumstances, she might have allowed him to go with her. But these were no ordinary circumstances. They were dire. If she told him a little, she would have to tell him everything, and she just couldn’t do that. It was one thing to risk her own life. To risk hanging nearly every single night as she robbed the rich to give to the poor. To risk any number of diseases while she assisted at the hospital. To risk mugging or rape in the most undesirable parts of London.
But she couldn’t ask that of someone else. Not someone she cared about. Not someone she loved.
***
Fin hated this feeling. He hated being at odds with Victoria, even though neither of them had spoken as much to that end. Still, there was obvious tension, and it was his fault.
No. It was her fault.
Or was it? He wasn’t quite sure who was to blame. He only knew that Victoria wasn’t accountable to him, and if she didn’t want to tell him why she was
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