crossover_chick | Losing You, Chapter 5

I honestly don't have much to report today beyond these two small items:
A) I am doing the 100 Drabbles of Summer for

secundus_cast
B) Played my Houndsditch asylum challenge, which continues to be boring (though Victor did learn lifelong happiness)

So why not continue the saga of Forgotten Vows's painful backstory?

Chapter 5
March 17th, 1875
Burtonsville, England
4:21 P.M.
A young man with sandy brown hair opened the door in response to Victor’s knock. “Yes, sir? May I help you?” he asked politely.

“Yes,” Victor replied, trying to look and sound as calm as possible. “I was h-hoping your employers were o-open to visitors at the moment. I’ve got a c-card – well, it’s my f-father’s card. . . .” He handed it over. “M-may I come in?”

The young man examined it. “I do believe Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd are accepting calls,” he said, stepping aside so Victor could enter. “If you could just wait a moment--”

“Ah, Alan! Who’s this at the door?”

Both Victor and the young man turned as another man entered – this one rather older, with a frizz of curly grey hair bordering his head like a halo. He also sported a droopy grey mustache rather like William’s, though he lacked Victor’s father’s carefully curled whiskers. He gave Victor a friendly smile and extended a hand. “Christopher Lloyd at your service, my good man.”

“He’s the son of a Mr. William Van Dort, sir,” Alan said as Victor accepted the handshake.

Mr. Lloyd froze for a moment, brown eyes widening. “Son of – you’re – Victor?” he said slowly, blinking at him.

“Yes, sir,” Victor said, dropping his hand. “I – I k-know you were probably n-not expecting to see me, but – um – I j-just learned of your – m-m-marriage to--”

“You’re here to see Victoria,” Mr. Lloyd said, tone surprisingly understanding for someone who’d just realized he was playing host to his wife’s former fiance. “Well then – Alan, you take our guest to the sitting room while I get my wife. And get us some tea, will you? I think we’ll need some.”

“Very good, sir,” Alan said, nodding at Victor. “If you could just follow me. . . .”

Victor followed Alan down the hall and into the sitting room. Although informed that he could take a seat if he chose, Victor remained standing, watching the manservant as he left to fetch tea. His hands automatically went to his tie the moment he was alone. His stomach was all tied up in knots. Part of him wanted to leave, right now. Just run out the front door and never return. What was he doing here, anyway? Why was he putting himself through this torture?

But he needed to see her again. He needed to hear the story from Victoria’s lips. She’d be able to explain it better than her parents ever could. And – well – he had to make sure she was all right. Just from first impressions, Mr. Lloyd seemed ten times better a husband for her than Lord Barkis, but – he wouldn’t feel fully satisfied until he’d seen her in person and made absolutely sure.

He waited, twisting his tie in his hands and occasionally rocking back and forth on his heels, for what seemed an eternity. Then Alan appeared again, carrying a fully-loaded tea tray. And behind him was Victoria, looking as lovely as ever in a cheerful yellow-striped dress. She stared at Victor, putting a hand to her mouth. “V-Victor?” she whispered.

“H-hello, Victoria – ah, Mrs. Lloyd,” Victor corrected himself. It surely wasn’t proper to call her by her first name now that she was married.

Victoria shook her head, still staring at him. “No, p-please, Victoria’s fine. . . .” She walked up to him, looking him up and down, like she couldn’t believe he was actually standing there. “I – I n-never thought I’d see you again. . . .”

“That’s obvious,” Victor said, then winced. “Oh, d-do forgive me, I didn’t mean – it’s b-been a distressing day, and I’m n-not--”

“You’re forgiven,” Victoria said promptly. “I know that my being Mrs. Lloyd must. . .when did you get here? Oh, do sit down, I shouldn’t keep you standing. . . .”

“Just today,” Victor said, waiting until Victoria had taken a seat on the sofa to lower himself into a chair. “My p-parents have been looking for yours for over a m-month. We f-finally found them and c-came for a visit, and t-they told us. . . .” He looked around. “Where’s your h-h-husband?”

“He wasn’t sure he should come in,” Victoria said, as Alan placed plates, cups, and saucers. “He thought it might be too awkward for you.”

“Oh. I – I’d rather like to m-meet him, honestly. See w-what sort of man he is. . . .”

Victoria nodded. “Alan, tell Christopher he’s welcome to tea,” she said. As Alan nodded and left to deliver the message, she picked up the teapot. “Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, thank you,” Victor said. He watched her pour. “This is a n-nice house you have here,” he added.

Victoria smiled weakly. “It’s not as big as I’m used to, but I hardly mind. It’s – cozier than home.” She handed him the teacup. “You’ll have to add the cream and sugar yourself, I’m afraid. I don’t know how you take it.”

“That’s fine.” Victor looked down into the brown depths of the tea, wondering how precisely he wanted to start this conversation. “Victoria--”

His thought was cut off by the arrival of Mr. Lloyd. “I heard I was wanted,” he said, taking a seat next to Victoria. He frowned at Victor. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

Victor looked over at the man. There was genuine concern for Victor’s well-being in those eyes. “I w-wanted to meet you,” he said. “And b-besides, you can t-tell me your side of the s-story. . . .” He looked back into his teacup. “Victoria, why – why?”

Victoria took a deep breath. “Victor – I thought you were dead.”

Victor’s head jerked up. “What – dead?” he repeated, baffled. “Why did you think--”

“When we got news from Burtonsville, it was all about Pastor Galswells saying you were damned,” Victoria said, wringing her hands. “I didn’t think – we didn’t r-realize he meant while you were still alive.”

It all suddenly clicked in Victor’s mind – why everyone he’d met today had looked at him with such surprise. They genuinely hadn’t been expecting to see him, today or ever again. “You thought – you’d thought I’d committed s-suicide,” he said. It was probably the height of gauche behavior to mention that at a tea, but he had to get it out in the open.

Victoria nodded. “I thought you’d gone after Emily again.”

“You did?”

Victoria nodded again, then sighed deeply, pouring tea for her husband. “I should start at the beginning. When I found my parents that night you walked me home, they were frantic. The arrival of the dead in the square had scared them even worse than we’d imagined. They were calling the town the – the g-gateway to Hell and other horrible names. I tried to calm them down, to explain things, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They packed up whatever they could carry and forced me and Hildegarde to come with them. We only stayed long enough to find Emil and convince him to join our flight. And then we were off, before I could even think of escape. My parents brought us here because the family hadn’t been to this estate in ages, and they thought it would be a good place to hide.”

“It was,” Victor said. “My p-parents nearly passed the place over, but one of the men they hired thought it was worth checking.”

“My parents won’t be happy about that – they did everything they could with what little they had to make sure your family couldn’t find us,” Victoria sighed. “They were very determined that we have nothing more to do with Van Dorts. Almost before we were settled in, they started looking around for another husband for me.” She laughed, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “I ended up being the one who tried to argue that I needed to mourn for Lord Barkis. My parents correctly suspected I was just trying to buy time and told me that, since his death occurred the same day as our wedding and I obviously hadn’t wanted to marry him in the first place, they’d ignore propriety just this once. I think the story they’ve told people is that the marriage was annulled, if they’ve mentioned it at all.”

Victor nodded. That all made sense so far. “So, ah – w-when did you meet Mr. Lloyd?”

“Actually, it’s a bit amusing – I met her when she was trying to escape back to you,” Mr. Lloyd said, with an exceedingly awkward chuckle.

“I made a number of attempts to get back to Burtonsville in the first two weeks,” Victoria said, blushing faintly. “I had no doubt you were trying to find me, and I wanted desperately to be with you. Unfortunately, none of them ever got anywhere. The one on which I met Christopher was ironically the farthest I’d ever gotten.”

“I found her struggling along the road in the pouring rain – poor dear looked like a drowned kitten,” Mr. Lloyd said. “I stopped to offer her a lift, and she asked me if I was heading to Burtonsville. I told her I wasn’t, and that it would be a five-day ride even if I was – I couldn’t take her that far without a chaperone. She started crying, and I couldn’t help but get down to comfort her.”

“He was so kind to me,” Victoria agreed, giving Mr. Lloyd a look of quiet affection. Victor couldn’t help feeling a pang at seeing her direct that smile to someone else. Worse was seeing Mr. Lloyd return it. “It felt like he was the only one, after Hildegarde, who wanted to actually listen to me. We talked for a bit, and he offered to help me however he could.”

“Yes, shame that butler of your parents’ showed up to ruin the moment,” Mr. Lloyd said, rolling his eyes. “That man has the unique ability to look down his nose at anyone, regardless of their station.”

Victor had to agree. “So – you became friends, then?”

Victoria nodded. “And a potential suitor, at least in my parents’ eyes. While Mother lectured me for trying to run away, Father asked him about his prospects.”

“I told him about them mostly to be polite,” Mr. Lloyd said. “I didn’t expect our acquaintance to really go anywhere.” He took a sip of his tea. “Though I won’t lie to you, Master Van Dort – I had a bit of interest in her even then. Her bravery in trying to get back. . .well, you don’t find that in many women. And even in the mud and rain, she was remarkably pretty.” He sighed. “I know it probably hurts to hear that, but – I feel you deserve to know the entire truth.”

“Thank you – I do appreciate it,” Victor said. It did indeed hurt, but it was good to know that Victoria had married someone who actually cared for her. He himself was warming to Mr. Lloyd – the man was very amiable. “So – w-when did things t-take a different turn?”

“Well, Christopher called on us for a couple of days, and we continued growing our little friendship,” Victoria said, folding her hands in her lap. “And then. . .well, we got the news from Burtonsville. About how Pastor Galswells said you were damned. And – we all thought you’d – l-left this world.” She looked down, fidgeting with her skirts. “I was miserable. Cried the rest of the day I heard the news.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor said, not really knowing why he was apologizing but feeling he ought to.

“It’s not your fault,” Victoria said, looking back at him. “We should have asked more about it. As it was, my parents continued evaluating suitors, Christopher continued to visit. . .and. . .I found myself warming to him. More than I was, that is. He was always so kind and gentle. . .listened to my opinions, actually talked to me rather than talked at me like some of the others Mother and Father brought around. . .and my parents liked him too. He had just enough money for them to be satisfied.”

“I’m ex-military,” Mr. Lloyd told Victor in explanation. “I get a pretty healthy pension from the Crown. And I have a small estate which brings in an extra hundred or so a year. Probably doesn’t match what your father makes with his canned fish, I’m sure, but it was enough for the Everglots to say yes when I proposed.”

“You do understand, don’t you?” Victoria asked, leaning forward and twisting her hands together. “I – I thought you were lost to me. And Christopher. . .he and I. . .we can talk, we can laugh. . . .”

“I do understand,” Victor said, finding himself thinking of a certain piano duet. “But – I d-do have to ask why you t-thought I would kill myself. Why I would g-go after Emily.”

Victoria smiled, a little sadly. “Well. . .I think the fact that you understand what happened between me and Christopher explains that.”

“B-beg pardon?”

“You loved her,” Victoria said, as if she was stating that the sun rose in the morning. “I could tell, Victor. The way you described her dancing, the way you talked about that duet you shared. . .the way you said her vows without a single mistake.” She fixed the wrinkles she’d made in her skirt. “Have you ever wondered why I didn’t speak up in the church? Why it was Emily who ended up protesting against the wedding? Because I saw the look in your eyes, heard the warmth in your voice. You were happy, Victor. Everyone could tell. I couldn’t bear to interrupt if she was the one you truly wanted. If she was the one who made you happy.”

Victor didn’t know what to say. He wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that he loved her, always had – but she was right. He would have been happy marrying Emily. He had loved her – loved her easy smile, loved her graceful dancing, loved her enthusiasm for music. Even now he couldn’t help but think of her with a smile. And when she’d hesitated during their vows, he’d been prepared to drink the poison anyway – to give up his life without a second thought. “I – I thought I’d lost you,” he finally said. It was the only explanation he could give.

Victoria nodded. “And I thought you considered me lost again. I never doubted that you loved me, Victor. Your words in my bedroom proved that. But I also never doubted that you loved her too. After all, you were prepared to keep your promise to her even after we had been reunited.”

That was a very good point. “She’d lost everything in her life,” Victor whispered. “I just – I wanted her to know I wouldn’t abandon her too.”

“I know,” Victoria said. “And I was so grateful that she was willing to let you go – but I was also prepared to give you up if that was what you both wanted. I loved you, and I wanted you to be happy. Even with another woman.”

Why did her being so understanding hurt so much? Victor almost would have preferred it if she’d been jealous or angry. That he had a better idea how to deal with. “Maybe it wouldn’t have w-worked out between us anyway,” he mumbled, unable to look at her. “Maybe her memory would have driven a w-wedge between us.”

“Perhaps,” Victoria allowed. “I don’t know. I think we could have been happy together. But. . . .” She dropped her eyes again. “But I’m happy with Christopher too. I can’t say I’m sorry to have married him.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Victor said, finally lifting his head. “Victoria, I feel the same – I love you, and I want you to be happy. Even with another man.” He managed a smile for Mr. Lloyd. “And the one you found seems to be much, much better than Lord Barkis.”

“I don’t think that’s a very tall order,” Mr. Lloyd said, with a disgusted snort. “Most anyone would be better than a thieving murderer.”

“True, but. . .you really do love her, don’t you?” Victor said.

Mr. Lloyd gave Victoria another one of those affectionate smiles, taking one of her hands in his. “I do,” he said. “She’s a remarkable young woman. Well bred, intelligent, and willing to speak her mind and do what’s right. Very hard not to fall in love with someone like that.” He turned back to Victor with an apologetic expression. “I never meant to steal her from you, though.”

“I believe you,” Victor said. “And – it’s h-hardly stealing if the other party thinks I’m dead, right?”

“Even still, I can’t help feeling a bit guilty about the whole business.”

“Please don’t. I – I c-can’t say I’m p-precisely happy about how things t-turned out, but – it’s at least comforting to know Victoria found someone who l-loves her. And whom she l-loves in return.” Victor sighed deeply, feeling rather worn out. “I should go. I’m i-imposing on you, I’m sure.”

“Hardly imposing,” Victoria told him. “I’m sorry for making you feel so awkward. I never meant. . . .” She trailed off. “I wish this could end happily for all of us.”

Victor tried another smile. “It might s-still. At least you’re happy. You are, right?”

Victoria looked at Mr. Lloyd, and lightly squeezed his hand. “I am quite content with him, yes,” she admitted, with yet another one of those loving smiles.

“Then that’s all I need to know.” Victor rose. “Do forgive me for d-dropping in so suddenly.”

“Not at all,” Victoria said. “I’m glad to see you alive.” She stood and extended her hand. “If you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t hesitate to write.”

Victor wasn’t sure if he could keep up a correspondence with her – he’d feel weird writing to his now-married ex-fiancee – but nodded anyway. “Thank you. I wish you both every happiness.”

“And we wish you all the best of luck,” Mr. Lloyd replied, standing and shaking Victor’s hand as well. “I’ll treat her right. You can be sure of that.”

“I’m glad.” Victor looked between them. “Well then – goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Victoria said. “Shall I call Alan to show you out?”

“I can f-find my own way, thank you. Good day.”

With that, Victor turned and left the room. Well – that should fulfill my awkward conversation quota for the rest of the year, he thought, trudging his way back to the front door. I can’t believe. . .no, I can believe it. I fell in love with someone else – why shouldn’t she? And they do look happy together. That’s what I want most of all, right? For her to be happy? He sighed. Would have preferred that she be happy with me, but. . . .

“Sir?” Victor looked up to see Alan standing nearby, frowning at him. “Are you all right?”

Victor considered the question. “I could be a lot worse,” he decided on. “Have a good day, Alan.”

“You too, Master Van Dort.”

Victor thought about the scene that was surely waiting for him back at the Everglots’ house, and winced. “I’m not sure that’s p-possible, but thank you just the same.”

Thoughts appreciated!