Woo! Sorry this took so long to upload! I've been working on it off and on for a while now, but sometimes real life interferes with fanfiction. Ha! I've been really busy. Hope this is worth the wait. Oh! And I made a couple changes to the prologue because I started doing my research (I know, should've done that before you started writing, eh?) and it seems that the Anglicans wear pope hats too, but preach Protestant doctrine. That was throwing me off for a bit. I had to rework a lot of the plot in my head because of that. I was going to have Victoria be Catholic and stuff, but now she has to be Anglican. I did have an AWESOME idea for Elder Gutknedt though. I just need a reason for Victor to end up in the Land of the Dead again.

Chapter Three

Unexpectance

Why were they staring? Why did mothers hold onto their children when he passed by on the opposite side of the street? Why were young women looking at him with awe and attraction? Why did they pretend not to be looking? Why were scoundrels nodding appreciatively at him? Why did his peers cower?

He made his way through town without a backwards glance, except maybe towards the Everglot home when he passed it. He knew she wasn't there, however. She'd be on her way to the church. If he remembered correctly, the Everglots left for church more than an hour before they ever had to in order to get the best seats for mass. Two if it was a holiday.

He was troubled by imaginings of her family and his own --- and by remembrances of the past forty-eight hours.

The Van Dort estate loomed over him.

Victor knocked politely on the door, half expecting Mayhew to answer --- that is, until he remembered that Mayhew had passed away the previous morning. Hadn't it been longer than that? No. Mayhew's funeral probably hadn't even been planned yet.

He turned the knob slowly when no one answered immediately only to have the great oak door ripped from his hand as it was pulled inward.

"Victor!" William exclaimed.

"Father!"

"You've come back!" There was a bit of a question, a smidgen of disbelief in the elder man's voice, but it was only for a fleeting moment that these were evident. He grasped his son's hand and led him quietly into the entrance hall.

"I'm terribly sorry for my disappearance," Victor started. "But you should know that it was unintentio-"

William hushed him with a finger to his lips. "Pastor Galswells is upstairs being examined by the doctor." Victor's countenance showed all the confusion that he could have possibly expressed in a question and more. William smiled understandingly. "We found him last night, blacked out in the snow, poor man," he explained in a whisper.

"Victor!"

Nell had practically screamed his name. "Where have you been!"

"Dear, the pastor," William whispered. A reminder was in order. He pointed towards the ceiling.

"Oh, right." she conceded, lowering her voice. "Where have you been, dear?" she asked again; this time annoyance was present in her voice.

Maudeleine Everglot was a picture of displeasure. Her thin, dark brows were knit over her unattractively long face. Finnis Everglot was not much better. Could his mouth have been turned more downward, could his sharp, little nose have been sharper, could his beady eyes have been more shadowed by his protruding sockets, he would have looked the worse. Together they were terrific. Victoria could do nothing but tremble in their wake. Sitting across from them in their large carriage (large to accommodate Finnis and to display the wealth that everyone assumed them to possess), she was forced to face them. Oh to be anywhere else!

"You've done something to him!" Maudeleine accused.

"Or rather that Van Dort boy has," Finnis growled.

"What happened last night?" Maudeleine demanded.

It was all she could do to keep from crying and speaking forced her to refocus her attention. A tear fell from Victoria's eye. "We didn't do anything, mother!" she sobbed. "Father Galswells ran away from the church the moment he saw the dead people! I passed him!"

She must be lying! "Then where is he?" Maudeleine screeched. "Father Galswells would never skip mass! He practically lives there in that church! Where is he?"

"I don't know!" Victoria cried.

"Shut up that crying, girl!" said Finnis. "It's most unattractive."

She could not for the life of her have done so at that moment. They were accusing Victor of killing Father Galswells now!

"We'll shut her up in her room again, where she belongs, until she learns to cry for her lost husband!"

"No more of this defending that criminal!" Finnis agreed. "You'll learn, Victoria, that crime does not pay."

"I'll be glad the day that he's thrown in jail for what he's done! He's ruined our chances for fiscal success!"

"Not quite, dear," Finnis interrupted her. "I'm afraid I disagree. I'm quite sure Lord Barkis' estate will prove to be worth more than an acceptable amount."

"No!"

Maudeleine and Finnis were taken aback by this sudden shout from their daughter.

"He was the same as you! He only married me to get to your gold!"

A pause.

"Lies." Maudeleine hissed. "Lies that that Victor fed you last night! What else did he say to you, Victoria? Did he tell you he loved you?"

Victoria buried her head in her hands. Her body shook from sobbing.

"Did he tell you he loved you?" Her mother's cold whisper could have chilled the sun. It was more than she could bear.

"He does love me, mother!" Victoria shouted.

"Slut!" Maudeleine shouted back. "Now we know where you really were last night!"

"No! He didn't lay a hand on me!"

"Like hell he didn't!"

"He didn't!"

"Enough!" Finnis exclaimed. "The doctor shall settle this!"

Victoria's sobs were silent for the rest of the ride home. Finnis and Maudeleine sat grimly watching her with disdain.