VI.

It had been three days and Victoria still couldn't believe her stroke of luck. Her mother must have overlooked the letter and went straight for the story. Out of fear her mother would be snooping in her room again, Victoria hid Victor's letters in an old hat box and looked for a place to hide it.

Under the bed? Mother was afraid of getting down on her hands and knees. But no, it was still too obvious.

Victoria looked into her closet, but that seemed completely evident, as well. Even if her mother never looked into Victoria's furniture, she wanted it to be the most secretive hiding place just for her.

Moving across the room with the floorboards squeaking beneath her, the girl happened to pass her balcony. She looked out and sighed, wishing she could breathe in the fresh air once again, and perhaps even see a butterfly.

A particularly loud squeak issued from the floor when Victoria stepped on it. She looked down, an idea beginning to dawn on her. She remembered something she had read in a story once that she couldn't remember at the moment. The spot was right next to her bed, too, which was a convenience for her. The girl got down on all fours and slipped her fingers between the loose floorboards, prying it upwards. It wasn't that difficult, and soon the board had been completely removed, revealing an utterly empty and dusty space below the floor. She picked up the hatbox and slipped it through the hole, carefully replacing the plank on top. It was done so cleverly, not even Victoria thought she could remember the exact board.

Victoria had never felt so good about herself. She felt so clever, and hiding something from her mother felt exhilarating. She stood up, dusted off her black attire, and walked to her sofa next to the fireplace. She picked up the embroidery she had been working on since her mourning began and the blue thread, and sewed.

As she worked, she wondered again what was keeping Victor so long with his reply. He always wrote back without delay. What could be keeping him?

Victoria hesitated with her stitch. "I do hope I haven't offended him," she said to herself. "All those things I wrote about Emily and questioning if he loved her…perhaps he won't write back for fear of my feelings. He knows I love him, but maybe he doesn't love me back…?" The very thought made her shudder.

"It's possible," she thought sadly.

She suddenly realized she could wait a year after all for his reply. She was too anxious.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Victor stared longingly out the window, clutching a letter in his hands. He looked up across the street into Victoria Everglot's bedroom window. The drapes were drawn, and he couldn't help but wonder if she deliberately wouldn't reply to his letter. Perhaps he offended her? No, he couldn't have. After all, the letter clearly explained that he cared for Emily, but not romantically. He loved Victoria more than anything, and deeply hoped he hadn't hurt her in any way.

"Victor, get over here!" a high, annoying voice shouted across the hallway. Victor sighed gloomily and set his letter from Victoria down on his desk.

"Yes, mother?" he shouted back from his doorway. Perhaps I received a letter after all? The thought made Victor's ears perk up.

"I want you to go fetch your father from the fish market! We all need to talk about something of great consequence. Well, go on now!"

Victor headed for the door a bit disappointed, yet eagerly, for lack of anything better to do. What could it possibly be that they all needed to talk about this hastily?

Victor sauntered out of the front door and down the stone steps. He looked up at the sky; gray and gloomy as always. He wished, just for one day, it would be sunny or warm or even snow, just for variety and change.

Victor nodded to elderly gentlemen in the streets with bored expressions. Victoria always had a lovely smile to brighten up any man's day…

Suddenly, something crashed against the back of Victor's knee, not too hard, but hard enough to make him stumble over his feet. Victor regained himself and craned around, surprised to see the little village boy, Samuel, running towards him, puffing heavily. He carried a short wooden stick in one hand. Lying beside Victor was a large wooden hoop toppled on its side. Samuel reached Victor and picked up his hoop.

"'Scuse…me…sir…" he said breathlessly. "I…lost it…"

When the boy had caught his breath, he clung to the hoop and looked up at Victor shyly.

Victor had always thought the child was much like him when he was a tot. Shy, timid, and lack of decision-making skills. Victor leaned down and patted the boy on his head.

"Quite all right, Sam," he said kindly. "New toy, I see."

Samuel blushed hard. He wasn't used to compliments. "Actually, it's an old toy. I found it in the attic this morning and thought I should try it out, Mr. Van Dort."

Victor waved his hand. "Just call me Victor. I hear you own a dog, too. Is that right?"

The boy perked up almost instantly. "Oh, yes! He's small and brown and his name's Truffles!"

Victor laughed. "How delightful. I had a dog once. His name was Scraps."

Sam giggled at the name. Victor had never had a more normal conversation with the adults in the village, besides Victoria. Children were so easy to talk to. They never expected you to be poised and proper. Children just liked to have fun, and Victor liked that very much.

Sam opened his mouth to reply when a loud screeching sound issued from the window above.

"Samuel!" a worried voice spoke. "You know you are not supposed to speak to strangers! You might be kidnapped or taken away or taken hostage or…!"

Samuel flinched at his mother's voice. Mrs. Knells had never been a cruel mother, but she was quite over-protective, and Victor didn't feel like informing the woman that all of those words she had used held the same definition.

Victor waved up at the woman sticking her head out of the dirty window like a lizard. "It's all right, Mrs. Knell. It's only me."

The woman squinted down at Victor's stickly figure and sighed with relief. "Oh, mercy, is that you, Mister Van Dort? Well, then, perfectly all right." At that, she turned her head back to her son. "And Samuel, don't forget dinner is at five sharp! We're having our relatives over!"

Sam groaned. "Please not Uncle Herald!"

Mrs. Knell did not answer, but retreated back into her house.

Sam sighed and turned to Victor. "Bye, Victor. I'll see you soon." He started to trudge away. Overcome with a surge of understanding and pity for the boy, Victor caught up to him.

"Don't let your old uncle get you down, Sam," he grinned. "He's probably not as terrible as my mother, be grateful of that."

Sam covered up his mouth to hide a spurt of laughter. Everyone knew about Mrs. Van Dort's snobby demeanor and her thirst for riches and climbing the social ladder. This seemed to cheer Sam up a bit and he scurried off, this time waving before disappearing into his house.

Victor stood up straight, a little shocked and pleased with himself. He had never thought about insulting his mother, it was rude and highly improper. This would be the first and the last time he did it, but it felt exhilarating to speak his mind, even if it was to a ten-year-old.

Victor was almost at the fish market when he caught himself looking longingly up into Victoria's window again, as a habit. Victor loved children. Would he and Victoria ever have any? Oh, my! The thought made Victor blush furiously and made him highly uncomfortable to even think about having any children with Victoria! Still, perhaps in the future…

Wait a moment…Victor squinted at Victoria's window closer. The curtains had been drawn back a crack, and a warm brown eye peeked out carefully. The tall man took a step closer and the woman in the window drew back the curtains even further when she had seen him. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore all black, including a black veil that covered up her eyes. She lifted the short covering so she could see him better, and even from a distance, he could see her eyes light up.

Victoria!

Victor's heart leapt in his chest. He thought about waving to her,but caught himself, worried what others would think of this young man making contact to an even younger woman in mourning for her husband! He might get her into serious trouble. Then again, when he looked around, he could see no one was watching him. Quickly and inconspicuously, Victor waved his hand in a cheery gesture before gluing it down to his side again. Thankfully, the beautiful young girl had seen him. She smiled warmly and waved back.

But then, just as suddenly as she appeared, Victoria had vanished. Victor wasn't even sure how it happened. One moment she was there, the next, the curtains had been drawn sharply and she had gone.

Before Victor even had time to think, a kind voice drifted towards his ears.

"Victor, my boy, there you are!"

Startled, Victor spun around to see that he was standing right in front of the fish market. His father, William, limped over to his son, leaning on his cane and smiling broadly. Victor was grateful very much for his father. Victor resembled him for one thing. His tall, stickly figure, dark hair (even though his father's was graying and thinning) long fingers, chest, everything was very similar. William Van Dort patted his son on the back kindly.

"And how are you today, son? Come to assist me out here?"

Victor shook his head good-naturedly. "That does sound tempting, father. But mother wants you home straight away…she says it's of 'great consequence'."

"Well, then," William put his arm around his son's shoulder. "Mustn't keep the old girl waiting. As patient as a tadpole, she is."

Victor chuckled, and they were on their way home.

It still puzzled Victor why Victoria came away from the window so hurriedly, as if she didn't want to be seen.

Yes, he thought as they reached the front steps and he helped his father up. Quite curious.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo