Geraldine rose, catching her kneeling mother off guard and forcing her to her bottom, so now Geraldine towered over Clarissa. “I don’t care what you say. Unlike you, I will be brave and not afraid to live a full life!” She stormed from her parents’ room, the sound of her slamming door reverberating around the upper floor of the house.
Clarissa sat in stunned silence on the floor of her room, tears coursing down her cheeks, as she wondered how her conversation with her daughter had gone so spectacularly wrong.
* * *
Jeremy walked beside Eleanor as he escorted her home. As promised, he strolled away from Higgins, so that they would walk a few more blocks together, before eventually circling back to the bridge that crossed the river and that led to her house. He glanced at her a few times in a furtive manner in an attempt to decipher her mood, but she seemed quiet and contemplative. The flirty, playful woman from the backyard was once again buttoned-up with her hair pinned in place and her face devoid of expression. “Where did you go?” he whispered.
His question startled her, and her head jerked up as she met his frustrated gaze. “I don’t understand what you mean.” A soft breeze blew, freeing a strand of her tightly bound hair, softening her stern appearance.
He looked around and steered her into a quiet alley by a shed. “In the backyard, I felt … I felt like I was with the real Eleanor. My Eleanor.” His eyes shone with impassioned intensity. “Now you’re frozen, as though you’re awaiting your condemnation.”
She bristled at his criticism. “What would you expect if you were to return to a home as unwelcoming as mine?” she snapped. She flushed at her words. “I … I beg your pardon.”
He shook his head in confusion. “Why? We all understand how miserable your life must be at your mother’s home. And how much worse it must be now that your family’s bank is under such financial pressure.” He paused and stroked a hand over her arm. “I wish you would share what you feel. What you fear. With me.”
She let out a stuttering breath and pushed herself into his arms. “Hold me,” she whispered. “When I’m near you or in your arms, my dreams don’t seem so impossible.”
He kissed her head as he wrapped his arms around her. “What do you dream of?”
She took a step closer, burrowing into his embrace. “A family that’s mine. A family that cherishes me as I do them.”
“How can you not see that you already have that?” he whispered into her ear. He felt her shudder at his words. “My family adores you.”
She pushed away and spun from him. Her skirts tangled in his pant legs, and she would have fallen to the ground had he not gripped her shoulders and held her against his chest. “Don’t,” she pleaded.
“Don’t what?” he whispered as he held her. “Don’t speak the truth?”
“Don’t taunt me with what I can never have,” she whispered. She wriggled her shoulders until she was free to take a step away from him and to face him. She stilled when she saw the sincerity and the hurt in his gaze.
“I’m not taunting you, darling.” He cupped her face between his palms and ran his thumbs over her cheeks. “I’m telling you, as well as myself, all that we could have. If only we are brave enough.”
She stared at him with wide eyes. “I fear I’ve never been all that brave.”
He chuckled as he leaned forward and kissed her fleetingly on her lips. “You are though. I know you are, or you’d never be here with me now, rather than at dinner with your mother as she tries to foist you off on a man she deems acceptable. You chose for yourself, rather than for her.”
Her eyes clouded. “That’s selfish.”
He shook his head, his nose rubbing against hers. “No, it’s time.” He took a deep breath. “Did you love Cameron so much that you can’t imagine loving another man?” He leaned away as she froze under his gentle hold. When he saw panic and shame in her gaze, a similar look he had seen too often in Clarissa’s gaze at the mention of Cameron, his hold on her tightened. “What did he do to you?”
Her eyes widened at his harsh tone. They widened further when she understood his question. “How did you know his attentions were unwelcome?”
“You look like Clarissa did after her interaction with the man,” Jeremy murmured. “I’ve always regretted I did not follow my instincts and protect her from such a man.” He paused. “What did he do to you, darling?”
She shrugged. “It was nothing horrible. Kissed me and touched me, when he shouldn’t have.” She shivered as though coming in contact with a vile creature. “He made sure I understood how fortunate I was that a man such as him would deign to marry a woman like me.”
Jeremy glowered at her words. “A beautiful, intelligent woman who lights up every room she enters?” He saw the past’s hold on her fade at his words. He continued to caress her softly as she fought her demons.
“No, a fat, grotesque woman no man should have to marry.” She looked at herself in her dress. “I’ve worked hard to lose weight, but I haven’t lost much.”
“Look at me.” He waited until she raised her gaze to meet his. “You are beautiful. I refuse to repeat those words, his words, even to negate them, because I never want to hear them used to refer to you ever again. They are lies. Horrible, debasing, mean lies.” His eyes shone with anger. “I always admired Gabe’s ability to walk away from killing that man, after what he did to Clarissa. Now I have no idea how he did it.”
She shook her head in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”
“Hearing how he treated you and how he spoke to you fills me with such a rage that I want to rip him limb from limb.” He kissed her softly, his tenderness a contrast to the rage he referred to. “I want to harm him, just as his words and actions harmed you.”
“He’s dead,” she whispered. “There’s no need to feel such animosity toward him.” At his inquisitive stare, she murmured, “The state penitentiary in Deer Lodge thought I should know that he perished while fighting the fires in 1910. They’d released a select number of prisoners to fight the inferno, and he didn’t survive.”
Jeremy took a deep breath and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Still, you would comfort me rather than allow me to feel indignation for you.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Let your memories of him go and become nothing more than ash. Just like all that was lost in that fire ten years ago.”
She shivered and nodded. “I’ll try.” She continued to meet his impassioned gaze. “My mother won’t like you. She will do everything in her power to prevent us from being together.”
He sighed with pleasure as she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. “What will you do?” He kissed her head and breathed in her subtle scent of peonies and soap. He rocked ever-so-softly side to side as she relaxed against him. “Will you fight for us?” His voice lowered to a whisper. “For me?”
She kissed the underside of his jaw. “Yes.” She eased away from him. “But now you must take me home. I have to face my mother.”
He lowered his head, kissing her deeply and passionately. When they parted, they were both breathless. “Come. Let me escort you home.”
* * *
Eleanor slipped into her parents’ house and shut the door behind her with barely a click. She tiptoed down the hallway, hoping her heels did not make too much noise. As she neared the stairs and her hoped-for escape to her bedroom, a hand reached out from the shadows and slapped her cheek with a resounding thwack. Her head jerked to the side and slammed into the wall. “What?” she gasped.
“How dare you sneak into your parents’ house after you disobeyed my command for you to be home for dinner?” her mother said in a low, venomous voice. She nodded with satisfaction at the shiver of fear that ran through her daughter. “How dare you shame me in front of our important guest. He was none too pleased to realize my daughter had shunned him. Shunned him!” her mother shrieked.
Eleanor held a hand to her cheek and whispered, “Mother, please.”
“Please what?
Please condone you racing off to God-knows-where? Were you with a lover?” Her mother leaned forward, sniffing at her, as though she were a bloodhound. Although her mother was hard of hearing—the word deaf could never be used in her mother’s presence—her mother had a finely tuned sense of smell. “You were with a man.” Her stunned disbelief turned to vicious rage in an instant. Her fists pummeled Eleanor on her head, shoulders, and belly.
“Stop it!” Eleanor shrieked. “Stop it,” she yelled again, as she pushed at her mother, forcing her back a step.
Her mother, unaccustomed to her daughter fighting back, tripped and fell to her bottom on the floor.
“Mother, I’m sorry,” Eleanor gasped through her tears.
Mrs. Bouchard heaved herself up and held out a hand to keep her daughter away from her. “You’ve made your choice, you harlot.” She smoothed her hair that had come free of its pins. “Get out. Get out and never come back.” She stepped in front of the stairs. “No, Eleanor. You take nothing from this house. Nothing but the clothes on your back. See if he’ll want you now.”
* * *
Gabriel sighed at the knock sounding on his front door. “I must answer it.” He held a despondent Clarissa in his arms, and he had tried to soothe Geraldine in a similar manner. However, his eldest daughter had slammed her bedroom door and wanted them to leave her alone. When Clarissa murmured her assent, he slipped from their bed and walked down the stairs, flipping on a light switch for the hallway.
He jerked open the front door and frowned, as he saw no one on his front step. About to shut the front door, he paused, hearing a sniffle. “Hello? Who’s there?” Shivering in his light shirt as the evening had cooled, he took a step onto the porch and stilled when he saw Eleanor curled into a ball on his porch near the swing. “Eleanor?” he murmured, as he crouched beside her. “Are you all right?”
She shook and shivered, tears coursing down her cheeks, but otherwise remained quiet. Wrapping her arms more tightly around herself, she rocked to and fro.
“Come, little one. It’s cold, and you’re hurting.” He rested a soft hand on her arm, and, when she didn’t flinch at his touch, he wrapped an arm around her back. “Come,” he murmured again. After he eased her up, he urged her to lean against him and led her into the warmth of his house. They took slow, faltering steps to the settee, and he guided her to sit on it. He frowned at the red mark on her face. After he wrapped a blanket around her, he knelt in front of her and murmured, “Can you talk about it?”
She sat, swaying and staring into space, silent. Gabriel held her hand and cast a worried glance at Clarissa when she entered the living room.
“Eleanor! Who did this to you?” She knelt beside her husband and ran a soothing hand over Eleanor’s arm. “Gabe, we’re fine here,” Clarissa murmured. “Go for Jeremy.” She frowned as Eleanor jerked at Jeremy’s name. She shook her head in disbelief at the confusion that entered her husband’s gaze. “Hopefully he will help us decipher what occurred.”
Gabriel kissed his wife on her head and raced from the room, launching off the porch and running the few blocks to his brother’s home. After pounding on his front door, Gabriel waited, panting and impatient on his brother’s porch, for him to answer. When the door creaked open to an irritated Jeremy, Gabriel said, “Eleanor’s hurt and shattered at my house.”
Jeremy blanched. “What? She was fine when I left her less than an hour ago.” He took a step forward and then stopped. “Give me a minute.”
Gabriel watched as he saw his brother run up the stairs to alert Uncle Martin to watch over Breandan and then to run back down them again in less than a minute. Words were superfluous, and they raced to Gabriel’s house at full speed. Jeremy sped ahead of Gabriel at the last few houses and burst into the door before him. Holding back, Gabriel fought to observe his brother without bias. He prayed he had no reason for concern.
* * *
“Ellie,” Jeremy gasped, collapsing in front of her. His panicked gaze raced over her, and his shaking hands caressed her head and cheek where she wasn’t visibly bruised. When she made a sound of distress and jerked from his touch, he immediately dropped his hands. “Forgive me. I’d never mean to hurt you.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her devastated gaze finally focusing on him. “I … I fear I’ve ruined everything.”
He shook his head and arched over her, attempting to shelter her with his body without touching her. “Never. Nothing could have occurred that would make me not want you, my darling.” He grunted as she pushed herself forward into his arms, collapsing backward onto the floor with her in his arms. He held her still, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Rocking to and fro, he murmured to her and held her as she sobbed. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it. I promise.”
He cast a worried glance at his brother to see Gabriel nod at his statement. Relief poured through him that he would not be without his eldest brother’s support. Family was paramount in Jeremy’s life, and he didn’t know how he would survive if they distanced themselves from him for the woman he loved.
After many long minutes, Eleanor calmed in his arms. “I feared …” she stammered. “I feared no one would answer the door. That no one would want me.” She buried her face against his chest for a moment, as though taking strength from his presence. After a deep breath, she murmured, “My mother threw me out of her house tonight. With nothing more than the clothes on my back.”
“Oh, no,” Clarissa murmured. “I’m so sorry, Eleanor.”
Jeremy ran strong hands over her back as he continued to hold her. “Why?”
“Can you tell us what happened when you arrived home?” Gabriel asked at the same time.
Eleanor pushed away from Jeremy and leaned against the back of the couch, so she could see all of them. She gripped Jeremy’s hand, as though needing that connection with him. “I arrived home, intent on sneaking upstairs. I wasn’t as observant as I should have been.” A tear tracked down her cheek. “My mind was too full of the evening. I was imagining your boisterous, loving family as my own and got lost in the daydream.” She shared a long look with Jeremy. “And I was thinking about our walk home.” A fraction of the sorrow in her gaze lifted as she saw the answering joy in his gaze.
“My mother was waiting for me. She slapped me and said I was ungrateful.” She shrugged. “Nothing that hasn’t happened before.”
At the sounds of disgust in the brothers’ throats, her gaze flew, first to Jeremy and then to Gabriel. She shook her head in confusion.
“No one has the right to abuse you in any way,” Gabriel said, as it appeared Jeremy was too angry to speak.
Eleanor’s brows furrowed as she considered his words and then whispered, “My mother was mortified that I’d not been home for their important dinner guest. Accused me of being with a man.” A smile burst forth. “She was shocked to realize that I had been with a man.”
“How?” Jeremy asked. “Does she have spies all over town?”
“No, but she has a keen sense of smell. I think it comes from being nearly deaf.” She whispered the word deaf. “She must have smelled your cologne.” She flushed beet red.
Jeremy caressed her cheek. “There’s no crime in kissing and hugging a beautiful woman.”
“There is to my mother, unless it is with a man of her choosing,” Eleanor whispered. “She … She continued to hit me, until I pushed her away.” She ran a soothing hand over Jeremy’s arm as he stiffened at her words. “And then she threw me out.”
“She hit you? Numerous times?” Jeremy asked, his low voice filled with rage.
She shivered as she looked into his irate gaze. “Yes. I know she’ll claim she had to rid her house of me because I abused her. Because I pushed her away and caused her to fall.” Another tear slipped out. “But I swear I didn’t mean to!”
Jeremy growled and tugged her into his arms. His touch was soft and reverent as his hands stroked over her. “Oh, darling, don’t allow her to make you feel guilty for defending yourself from
her brutal attack. Don’t allow her to sully what we have.”
Clarissa knelt beside them and asked in a low voice, “What more did she say?” When Eleanor stared at her in defiant silence, Clarissa said, “I know your mother. I know women like your mother. And I know she said something else. Something more to hurt you.”
Eleanor closed her eyes. “She taunted me that the man I’d been with wouldn’t want me now. Wouldn’t want a pauper with nothing.”
Jeremy chuckled, his hold on her tightening. “After all this time, your mother doesn’t know or understand us at all.” He kissed Eleanor’s head. “We’ve already taken you under our wing, Ellie. You’re not alone anymore.” He rocked her in his arms again as his words provoked a fresh bout of crying.
* * *
Jeremy sat with a groan at his desk, the leather chair creaking with his weight. No fire lit the grate, as it was the middle of the night, and he had not spent the evening at home. Even in June, a fire could be inviting on a cool night in Montana. A lamp at the edge of his desk cast a soft glow over his office. Breandan’s toys lay scattered in front of the fireplace, while chairs were angled in front of it to encourage the sharing of stories and the commiserating over misfortunes. For the first time in months, he forced himself to study Zylphia’s painting, completed after Breandan’s birth and immediately before Savannah’s illness. Zylphia had painted it to celebrate their son’s birth, while also attempting to ease the ache of losing their precious Melinda.
He examined the joy and hope in his gaze and recalled those fleeting days. The sense that, although he had just suffered a horrible loss with the death of his beloved Melinda, fate had been kind in bestowing health and well-being to his beloved wife and their newborn son. The rage and bitterness that had suffocated him over the last year and a half no longer filled him now as he beheld the optimism in his gaze at the time of this portrait. Today he no longer felt like a fool for believing he had the world in his arms back then. “For I did,” he murmured. “In that instance, I did.”
Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine Page 24
