"Taylor, eat something. Victoria, tell me what's bothering you."
His wife insisted she wasn't hungry. She drank a full glass of milk, declared she was quite full, and folded her napkin to prove she was finished. She still wouldn't look at him. Lucas was exasperated with both women. He decided to deal with his wife first. He would find out what was bothering her and then take Victoria on. With that decision in mind, he reached over and covered Taylor's hand with one of his own. In a low voice he commanded her to look at him.
She took her time agreeing with the order. He patiently waited. And when she finally looked at him, he said, "You don't have anything to feel embarrassed about. Nothing much happened last night."
He was going to add the reminder that they were married, after all, and that a few kisses and a couple of caresses between a husband and wife was certainly nothing to get all worked up over or cause any embarrassment.
He never got the chance to give his logical argument. She gave him an incredulous look, then said, "I wept in front of you. Of course. I'm embarrassed and ashamed," she added with a nod. The blush intensified. "I promise it won't happen again. I'm usually very disciplined."
He didn't know what to say to that. He started to argue, then changed his mind. Victoria, he noticed, wasn't looking around the dining room any longer. She had become thoroughly engrossed in their conversation. She was glaring, too, and he seemed to be her target.
He wanted to ask her what the hell was wrong with her. Because of her delicate condition, he softened his question. "Is something wrong?"
"Did you make Taylor weep?"
He let out a sigh. She acted as though she believed he'd insulted his wife.
"No," he answered. "She was upset about something else." He decided he'd leave it to Taylor to explain about her grandmother.
"Victoria, have you finished your breakfast?" Taylor asked, trying to change the subject.
Victoria wasn't paying any attention to her friend now. Her attention was fully settled on Lucas. She seemed to be making her mind up about something or other, and just when he was about to get up from the table, she blurted out her request to stay where he was.
"If you knew your wife better, you'd realize she never, ever cries, Mr. Ross."
"Is that so?"
Victoria nodded. Her voice trembled with nervousness when she added, "She never eats anything for breakfast. She always has a glass of milk. You didn't know that either, did you?"
Although he wanted to, Lucas didn't dare smile. Victoria was becoming furious on Taylor's behalf. It was apparent she knew quite a bit about Taylor that he did not.
"She lived in a soddie for-"
Taylor cut her off. She wasn't about to let Victoria tell Lucas anything more about her training for the frontier. He'd start asking questions then, and she wasn't prepared to answer any of them.
"The bankers," she blurted out. "We have to meet Mr. Sherman and Mr. Summers at ten o'clock. Their offices are only a couple of blocks from here. I believe we should walk to the bank, don't you, Lucas?"
He nodded but kept his gaze on Victoria. "She lived in what?" he asked.
Victoria blushed. "Never mind," she replied. "Taylor, I would like to talk about something rather important if you have a minute now."
"Yes, of course," Taylor agreed, relieved the topic was being changed.
"I don't believe I can live in Boston." After making the statement, Victoria lowered her gaze to the tabletop.
"All right then."
Victoria's head snapped up. "You aren't going to argue?"
Taylor smiled at the surprised look on her friend's face. "Of course I won't argue. You know better than anyone else what you can and cannot do, Victoria." Her friend felt it necessary to explain. "I've already bumped into old acquaintances," she whispered.
Lucas heard her. He thought her explanation made about as much sense as Taylor's embarrassment over weeping did. "And meeting old friends is a problem?" he asked.
"Yes," Victoria and Taylor answered simultaneously.
He gave up trying to understand. He tossed his napkin on the table and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going back to our room. Taylor, you're changing your clothes before we go to the bank."
Lucas didn't give her time to argue. He turned around and left the dining hall. Victoria drew Taylor's attention then.
"Why are you wearing black?"
"In memory of my grandmother," Taylor answered. "I received a telegram last night. Madam died four days past. It took my uncle Andrew awhile to locate me," she added.
She'd tried to keep her voice very matter-of-fact, but she wasn't quite able to accomplish the feat. By the time she finished her explanation, she was close to weeping again.
Victoria didn't have any qualms about keeping her emotions under control. Madam would have been appalled by her conduct, Taylor thought, when her friend burst into tears. But she'd like her all the same, because undisciplined as she was, Victoria was extremely loyal to Taylor, and Madam believed loyalty was the second most important quality a person could have. It ranked much higher on her moral ruler than love, and only just an inch or two below the greatest quality of them all. Courage.
Taylor started aching inside. She did her best to hide her feelings, but the effort was fairly overwhelming. The other diners inadvertently helped her regain her composure. Several men and women had noticed Victoria's distress and were giving her curious glances. Taylor found their stares rude and uncivilized. She straightened in her chair, raised one hand, and dramatically waved them back to their own conversations. She added a good frown to ensure their cooperation.
Victoria was mopping the tears away from her face with her napkin. It was a wasted effort, for they just kept on coming.
"'Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief,' " Victoria quoted from memory in a whisper.
"William?" Taylor asked, though she knew full well who had written down that bit of advice.
"Yes," Victoria replied. "He was right, too. Plain words are best, and so I'll simply tell you how very sorry I am over your loss. I know Madam was like your mama and your heart must be breaking…"
She couldn't go on. She was crying in earnest now.
Taylor wasn't at all embarrassed by the scene her friend was making. She was actually humbled by Victoria's reaction. Taylor wasn't unaffected by her words of comfort either, and she had to take several deep breaths in order to get herself under control.
"You are a dear friend," she whispered once she could trust her voice enough not to break. "I am so fortunate to have found you."
"And I you," Victoria replied. Her voice was muffled by the napkin. " 'Everyone can mask a grief but he that has it,' " she added. "I can tell you're hurting."
Taylor didn't respond for the simple reason that she'd start crying if she did. The possibility was untenable. She wouldn't dare disgrace Madam's memory by breaking such a sacred rule and weeping in public. Taylor thought she'd die first.
"'To weep is to make less the depth of grief,' " Victoria quoted.
Madam, Taylor thought, wouldn't have agreed with that quote from Shakespeare. She decided to try and lighten the conversation. "And you believe that because your William has written down that dictate, I cannot argue with you?"
Victoria managed a smile. "No, you cannot argue. William is an authority after all."
"Do you know what I'm going to do?"
"What?"
"I'm going to walk to the nearest bookstore and purchase every single one of William Shakespeare's works. I've read him, of course, but I haven't taken the time to memorize every word the way you have. In a month or two, I promise I'll be able to use your William to my advantage whenever I want you to agree with me."
Victoria looked thrilled. She obviously didn't understand that Taylor was teasing her. "I shall be happy to lend you my copies," she said fervently.