At exactly six o'clock, Colleen was at Braxton's restaurant, looking radiant in her burgundy evening gown. She was surprised to find it quite empty at such a popular dinner hour.
The host, upon hearing her name, led her to a dark corner table. She sat down, but was surprised to find Andrew not yet there. Finally, she started becoming a little worried. Her worry grew when she heard the voice behind her.
"Hello, Colleen."
She turned around to find Patrick Collins standing behind her chair.
Trying to keep the anger from her voice, she replied. "Hello."
"May I sit down?"
"No, I'm meeting my husband here. I thought I made it clear to you in my letter that I never wanted to see you again."
"Oh, that. Well, I assumed you had written it under duress and simply disregarded it."
"You should have regarded it. I meant every word."
"I'm sorry to hear that. You see," he began, "I never take no for an answer. Sometimes it may take a little more convincing than usual, but no one ever says no to me."
The more Colleen heard, the more frightened she grew. Trying to keep a calm head, she stood and took a few steps away.
"Well consider this your first lesson in rejection," she said firmly. "Goodbye, Mr. Collins."
"Oh, you're not going anywhere. At least if you want to see your precious Andrew again." During this time, the few other patrons in the restaurant had stepped closer and were surrounding her.
"Now, are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way? Andrew, unfortunately, chose the hard way, and he did suffer a bit. It would be a shame to ruin this pretty little dress or that perfect face, but I will if you refuse to cooperate." He pulled a small pistol from his pocket and waited for her response.
"Excuse me," Preston said in a dignified tone. "Can I help you?"
The governess looked surprised, but then answered
"I am looking for Dr. Bell, can you tell me where he is?"
Preston, taken aback by this, answered slyly,
"I believe that he is having dinner with Gilda St. Clair. Is there anything you would like me to tell him for you?"
Gretta hesitated at first. She needed to talk to Ryan, right at that moment. She was supposed to meet Matthew and Brian, who were getting Dr. Mike and Sully, at Grace's Cafe, and she didn't have much time.
She didn't know when she would get a free moment.
"Will you tell him that I need to see him? I will be at Grace's. It is Gretta. Tell him that for me, will you?"
"I certainly will."
"Thank you Mr..."
"Lodge." Preston replied. "Preston A Lodge III. And will you be needing anything else? Such as an escort to Grace's Cafe?"
This time Gretta was taken aback. She blushed slightly, but regained her poise enough to answer "No, thank you," and walk away.
Michaela, Sully, Matthew, Emma, Brian, and Katie were all enjoying a glass of lemonade. The day was warm, and the cool drink quenched the dust in their throats from the sooty train station.
Katie was talking up a storm, for she had learned ten new words while Mama was gone, and wanted to tell them to the whole world.
"Gretta should be here soon," Brian said when Katie finally ran out of breath. "She had to go to the Chateau for somethin'"
"Good," Michaela said. "I want to talk with her about something."
Matthew thought he saw Dr. Mike and Sully exchange a worried glance and grew uncomfortable. He could only guess at what they wanted to talk to Gretta about, and he had a pretty good idea of what to guess for. He decided to change the subject.
"You wired that you stopped over in Philly," he said. "So how's Andrew treatin' my little sister?"
"They got married?" Emma said in dismay. She and Matthew hadn't had time to talk about much in the few moment's they'd had together since he got back.
"In May," Sully put in.
"I've never seen Colleen happier," Michaela added. "So Emma, have you quit your work for Miss St. Clair?"
"Oh, no" Emma replied. "I just wasn't needed a few weeks back, so I decided to come here. Gilda's taking a three week break in Colorado Springs anyway, so I thought I'd come on ahead early, so I could catch up. No doubt she'll have me making an entire new wardrobe while she's here, preparing for her new tour. She just won't give her pipes a rest."
"I'm very sorry to hear that," Michaela said. "It will eventually catch up with her, and she won't be able to sing at all."
"Maybe you should tell her that," Emma said. "Then I could stay on here for a while, and see if I could do some more work for Mr. Bray. Gilda pays good money, but, she gives you more than you can handle. At least when you work on your own you don't have to take everything."
"It must be tiring," Sully commented.
"But isn't it great to see all those places?" Brian spoke up. "You get to go everywhere, all over the country, and sometimes even over seas. Don't you just love traveling?"
"It is exciting to see new places." Emma replied. "When I was workin' for Hank, I never dreamed I'd ever get outside Colorado Springs, but less outside the country!"
"Matthew," Michaela ask, "How is the case coming with Horace and Myra?"
"The judge arrived this mornin'," Matthew replied. "Daniel's with him right now. I've combed through the case as thorough as I can, and if you ask me, I think the judge'll be crazy if he lets Michael Brown have custody of Samantha."
"Why do you say that?" Sully asked.
"He tried to leave town after Daniel told him he couldn't leave until after the trial. We've had to lock him up ever since then, and give Sam to Horace, though Myra didn't stand for that.
If you ask me, Michael Brown wants Samantha for something, just like Ethan wanted Brian and Colleen for his wife's inheritance. There's more to it than wanting a child."
"He sounds awful," Michaela said sadly. "I can't imagine what Horace must be going through."
"Dr. Mike!" Horace called. "This telegram just came for ya. The one you were expecting!" He handed the piece of paper to Michaela. As she read it, lines of worry creased her forehead.
"What's all that about?" Matthew asked curiously.
"Oh! It's nothing!" Michaela said trying to mask her look of worry with a smile.
Just then, Gretta walked up to the table.
"I'm sorry that I am so late," she said apologetically. "But it took me this long to get back from the Chateau. Hello Dr. Mike! Sully! I hope your trip was a good one?"
"Thank you Gretta!" Michaela said with a false smile. "Yes, it was a very good trip, but long. How was Katie while we were away? Not to much trouble, I hope!"
"No trouble at all! She was a joy to keep."
In all the commotion, Michaela set the telegram on the table while she talked with Gretta. Matthew craned his neck to see it. He caught his breath. The telegram read;
'master ryan sails to america STOP
do not let victoria leave STOP
until his arrival STOP
victoria anne ryan was supposedly killed in train accident STOP
was then believed to be alive STOP
and on way to america STOP
thank you for the information STOP
you will be well rewarded STOP'
Colleen desperately wished that this was all a bad dream. That she would wake up somewhere
- anywhere -
safe and sound.
But for the few seconds she contemplated the cold, gray gun muzzle pointed at her, she knew it was anything but fantasy.
"Well?" Collins demanded. The few other "customers" were all Patrick's accomplices, and they now surrounded the terrified young lady.
Colleen swallowed. Praying that her voice sounded level, she replied. "I'll do things your way, Patrick."
Patrick smiled evilly and put the gun away. "That's a good girl. I always knew you had sense." He directed one of his accomplices, "Tie her hands, but at the front."
Colleen stood silently as her hands were tied neatly in front of her and her cloak was draped to hide the bonds. One of the men led her to a back door.
"I'm blindfolding you, but I won't drug or gag you unless you make a fuss," Patrick warned.
Colleen nodded and didn't make a sound as she was helped into a closed carriage and her eyes were covered. The carriage started to move and rolled away from the restaurant and into the dark city streets with impressive speed.
All during the ride, Colleen remained silent, but her instincts were going a mile a minute.
She immediately guessed they were headed north. What was north...Main street, the riverfront, the University of Pennsylvania...the RIVERFRONT?!
There were some warehouses by the river's edge, and there was also a residential neighborhood and a tenement area. Was that where they were headed? Good girl, she told herself.
The carriage pulled to a halt and she was directed out. Someone took her arm and guided her up several steps. Suddenly, they were inside.
She walked across a floor, and was directed up more steps. As they went, she heard several doors open and close in front of her.
Ok, they must be in a house, she guessed. She was finally stopped and her blindfold removed. In front of her was a fully furnished room - quite pretty were it not for the bars and boards covering the windows.
The man behind her pushed her inside. She stumbled, but someone caught her arm before she fell. It was Patrick.
"Don't push her!" he barked to the man.
"Thank you," she said. She knew she had to be nice and docile so as not to evoke his temper.
"Of course. Well, my love, this is where you will be staying.
There are books and clothes and things in the armoire and the shelves. I'll have your meals sent up three times a day, so make yourself at home."
He took off her cloak and cut the ropes holding her hands.
Released, she flexed her fingers and rubbed her wrists where the rope had cut cruelly into the flesh.
"If I may ask, what am I doing here?" Colleen asked carefully.
Collins chuckled. "My sweet, inquisitive Colleen. That's one of the things I love about you. You see, my dear, I intend to marry you. Now, I know you'll say you're already married, but that's easily remedied.
With that damned Andrew out of the way, you'll be a widow. And even if I decide not to dispose of him, I have friends who can easily dissolve a marriage. Then, you and I can live happily in a life of my choosing."
"I see," Colleen replied.
Collins stepped over and ran a hand down the side of her cheek. "I know it's a lot to take in at one time, but I'm sure you'll adjust to the idea.
Marrying Cook was a mistake, and you'll realize that soon enough. That's why I brought you here, so that you can have some time to think. In a few days, or a few weeks, depending on how long my arrangements take, you'll leave this dreadful life behind, and you can settle down to proper duties of being my wife and a mother."
With that, he kissed her lips.
She wanted to scream, kick, yell...but she endured this horrid act silently.
Finally, Collins stepped away and closed the door. She heard a key turn in the lock, his muffled voice talking to someone - a guard? - outside, and his heavy footsteps going down the hall.
Finally alone, she flung herself on the bed, buried her face in a pillow and sobbed. Never in her life had she been so scared.
With all her tears spent, she finally sat up and looked down at her left hand. Her wedding rings.
Noting in the world meant so much to her. The wedding ring was a simple gold band, and her engagement ring, which Andrew had given to her the morning after their marriage, was a one and a half caret diamond surrounded by small alternating sapphires and emeralds.
The diamond was from his mother's engagement ring, he told her, and the sapphire/emerald arrangement represented their birthdays, his in October and hers in May. She had cried when he had given it to her. Oh, Andrew, where are you? she wondered in fear.
Suddenly, she took the ring off and placed it instead on the long chain around her neck that held the locket her mother had given her many years ago, the one she never took off and always wore underneath her gowns.
In case Collins made her give him her wedding ring, she would only lose the band. She had worn gloves that evening, and she doubted he had seen everything.
She eventually pulled herself up off the bed and went to the armoire. It was filled with clothing, all of it new. She found a nightdress and robe and shuddered when she saw how low-cut the nightgown was.
Regardless, she put it on and covered it with the robe, fully intending to sleep that way.
She kept her hair in a tight braid and lay down in the bed, pulling the covers up tightly around her chin. She slept fitfully that entire night.
The atmosphere at the Pennington house remained measuredly joyous all that evening.
Even though Erin had been accepted, they still needed to tell her parents. Also, Alexandra noted over supper, her husband was strangely quiet. After Clara and Daphne had gone to their hotel, and Erin to her room, Alexandra confronted her husband.
"Dear, is everything all right?" she asked.
"Alex, I just don't know. I keep remembering Andrew's last patient yesterday. He looked oddly...familiar. The whole thing was strange, actually. This man came in, and asked for Dr. Cook. Andrew had a very queer expression on his face when the man went into his office.
I left to pay a housecall, and when I returned, Andrew was gone. There was a note saying he had gone to pay a housecall, and would not be back that day. But that patient, there was something about him..."
"What did he look like?"
"He had dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin....My god! I remember! He was the man that we met in the restaurant a week ago, the one who Colleen said was her former admirer, or something! What was his name...Calligun, Culoins, ..." he trailed off.
"Collins. You don't mean Patrick Collins?" Alexandra asked, remembering the story Colleen had told her.
"Yes, that's exactly it. It was him."
"Well, I wouldn't worry, my dear. Colleen said they had had trouble with him in the past, but I'm sure he's harmless. Anyway, Colleen told me that she was meeting Andrew at Braxton's restaurant tonight, so I'm sure everything's fine."
"I'm sure you're right," Nathaniel answered.
Regardless, he still looked worried all during the rest of the night.
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