Parthena stiffened further under his hold as he tucked her arm in his, his hand like a manacle over hers, preventing any freedom of movement. Parthena grimaced, no longer able to maintain the fiction of joy or ease at being in his arms. “I am more than proficient, although I cannot pretend that I have near his talent.” She glared at Morgan. “As for why he hasn’t approached me, I assume it is because he has good manners, unlike many here, and does not wish to intrude after our announcement.”
“Offering us congratulations is not intruding,” Morgan said as he nodded at an acquaintance and shared a few moments of polite conversation with a prominent banker.
Parthena stood next to Morgan, smiling in a vapid manner and nodding her head when she thought it appropriate, willing the evening to end.
Lucas paced his small living quarters, the lights from the low lamps casting shadows on the walls and failing to brighten the room. The open window allowed a hint of a breeze to enter as the evening slowly cooled after a warm, humid day in late May. At the nearly inaudible knock at his door, he strode to it and flung it open. “Finally,” he murmured, as the woman slipped inside. The door clicked shut behind her, and he flipped the lock.
She lowered the cloak concealing her face and shook her head at Lucas as he reached for her. “No, we have to talk.”
“Dammit, did you know they would make that announcement tonight? It took all my ability to act as though I were happy.” He traced a hand down her cloak until he grasped her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “As though I were meeting you for the first time.”
“I don’t know what to do, Lucas.”
“You’ll marry me, Parthena,” he said, moving forward to clasp her face with both his hands, pushing tendrils of hair off her face and forehead. “You can’t marry Wheeler. He’s not your equal.”
“In that, I’m afraid you’re wrong. He’s my equal in every way that matters.” She bit her trembling lip as her eyes filled.
“Not in the ways that are truly important. Not in your spirit, your passions.” He traced a thumb over her eyebrow.
“Why didn’t you tell Zee that you already knew me?” Parthena whispered.
“I promised you that I wouldn’t.” He continued to stroke a thumb over her cheek, the stiffness leaving his shoulders as he saw her relax with his gentle caress. “I would never break a promise to you.”
“Everyone breaks promises, Lucas. You will one day.” She gently broke away from him and moved farther into his living space. “Do you think Zee believed that we weren’t acquainted?”
“She’s so focused on her worries for Teddy that she has little to spare for those around her. If it had been the old Zee, we wouldn’t have stood a chance. As it was, I think I fooled her.” He closed his eyes. “I hate lying to those I love.”
Parthena nodded, tears finally escaping and pouring down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I should never have sought you out.”
“Never regret the time we’ve had together. The past few weeks—” Lucas broke off and shook his head. “I want you in my life, Thena.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“He won’t want you. Not when he realizes you aren’t …” He broke off at her entreating gaze. Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Thena. I never meant for us to become so entangled.”
She half smiled, sniffling as she fought more tears. “I know. I’m the one who barged in here, demanding to meet you and learn from you. I was desperate not to miss my opportunity for your tutelage.”
Lucas dropped his hands and moved into his small living room, leaning one hip against the edge of his piano that took up over half the space. “If I remember correctly, little musical tutoring occurred.”
Parthena blushed, and her mournful partial smile transformed into one of mischief and pleasure. “Of course you remember correctly. Although I believe you fail to recall that I seduced you, so you have little to apologize for.” She wandered to the piano bench and sat on it, her gaze unfocused. “It seems long ago, yet it was only recently when I forced myself into your rooms. Although I wouldn’t say you never gave me piano lessons.”
Lucas’s smile faded. “It’s all I should have done.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I must speak with your father, explain to him that you will marry me.”
“Don’t approach him, not yet,” she pleaded. “I must determine why he’s intent on my marrying Mr. Wheeler.”
Lucas stiffened at her rejection of his marriage proposal, although it had been oblique. “I agree to a few days’ delay. Nothing more.”
“Promise me that you won’t speak with him without my approval.” Her hazel eyes shone with desperation.
He frowned before shaking his head ruefully. “As I just swore, I’d never break a promise to you. You drive a hard bargain, Thena. But, yes, I promise. I hope you know what you’re asking of me.” He paused. “Of us.”
She rose and pushed herself into his embrace. He sighed with momentary contentment to feel her in his arms again. After he kissed her softly on the top of her head, he murmured, “This won’t be enough, Thena.” He contented himself with holding her as she succumbed to her tears in his arms.
Zylphia roamed the sitting room, tracing the edge of a cream-colored curtain that fluttered in the early June breeze. A piano sat to one side of the room, while two chairs and a small settee upholstered in red velvet were nearer to the two open windows. She glanced toward Lucas who stared at Parthena’s collection of sheet music. He approached the small piano, his fingers stroking the tops of the keys without pressing down. His gaze distant, a smile of contentment lit his expression.
“Play something while we wait,” Zylphia urged.
“It’s not polite to play on another’s piano without the owner’s invitation.” He continued his caress of the keys.
“Not everyone feels as you do about pianos, Lucas. Play something if you’re moved to.” Zylphia sat in a chair in expectation as he settled on the bench in front of the piano.
Parthena burst into the room, flushed and slightly disheveled. The door shut behind her with a resounding click, and she rushed into her sitting room. “You came.” She shared a long look with Lucas.
“Of course we came,” Zylphia said, her gaze puzzled at her friend’s surprised tone. She stilled as she watched the silent communication between Parthena and Lucas.
“I’m greatly interested in hearing you play,” Lucas said, rising from the seat in front of the piano. He motioned for Parthena to take the bench and dragged an ottoman from a far corner of the room.
“What should I play?” Parthena asked.
“Your favorite piece,” Lucas said. “Whatever brings you joy.”
Parthena smiled, her first real smile since she had entered the sitting room and since her father’s announcement. She began to play a slow, lilting piece.
Lucas settled on the ottoman and closed his eyes as he listened. In certain places he frowned or squinted his eyes, but his expression was always one of delight.
Parthena ceased playing, and Lucas sighed with contentment. “That was beautiful.”
“I’m certain you would have played it in a different manner,” Parthena said.
“I would have failed to evoke the sensitivity and subtlety of the piece,” Lucas said. “You have a gift, Miss Tyler.” He rose, and she scooted over on the bench.
He played the same song, and Zylphia heard subtle differences in his performance. Whereas Parthena rushed notes together, when Lucas played, the notes were distinct, yet lyrical. Zylphia closed her eyes, beginning to understand the difference between an expert player and a master.
She heard Lucas murmuring to Parthena as he played and her quiet words of agreement. He responded to her questions, and they moved from one piece to the next. Zylphia leaned back in her chair, lost to the music.
The parlor door crashed open. Fingers stumbled on the keys, forming a discordant racket rather than lyrical harmony as Parthena’s father roared, “Get away from
my daughter!”
“Father!” Parthena exclaimed, rising from her seat next to Lucas.
“I thought you understood all your piano nonsense was forbidden now you are to marry Mr. Wheeler,” her father said, his eyes flashing with ire.
“I’m sorry to have caused any discord between you and your daughter, sir,” Lucas said, rising and moving from the piano. “However, I believe she has a true talent that should not be wasted.”
“You will not entice her from the man she is to marry.”
“Of course not,” Lucas said with a wry smile. “I can see what joy her upcoming nuptials bring.”
Parthena and Zylphia flinched as her father slammed shut the door to prevent the servants from hearing anything further to share as gossip.
He stalked into the room. “Do you think I don’t know who you are? What you’ve already attempted to do?” Mr. Tyler asked. “Do you think you will wreak havoc on my family as is your family’s propensity?”
“I believe you are mistaken, sir. My family members are all respectable.”
Mr. Tyler snapped his finger at his daughter and pointed at his side.
Parthena rose, walking to him.
“She isn’t some animal, trained to follow your commands,” Zylphia hissed as she rose.
“No, she is a daughter, here to do as I say for as long as she is unmarried and a horrific expense.”
“You have no right to disregard her desires. She has rights, like any man,” Zylphia said, fisting her hands with futile rage as she saw her friend’s momentary joy leach away.
“You are Zylphia McLeod. The woman so unnatural you caused the most important financier of this town to flee from you.” He laughed with malicious glee when he saw Zylphia pale. “It seems a war was preferable to remaining in your company.”
“How dare you speak about Te—Mr. Goff—in such a manner.” Zylphia instinctively moved toward Lucas.
“I wonder if Parthena would want to remain your friend if she realized it’s your fault she has to marry Mr. Wheeler?” When Zylphia shared a confused look with Parthena, Mr. Tyler laughed again. “Yes, I lost thousands when Goff left town, and now I must look to those such as Mr. Wheeler to replenish the family coffers.”
“I’d hardly call your ineptitude with your own finances my fault,” Zylphia scoffed.
“As for you, Mr. Russell, I’d thank you for keeping your distance from my daughter. She has no need of your influence.”
“My influence would be to encourage her talent as a wonderful pianist,” Lucas said, his voice soft but underlaid with steel.
“How do I know you won’t warp her sensibilities? That you won’t encourage her to act in as shameless and criminal way as your sister?” He smiled with gleeful maliciousness. “You might like to believe her infamous actions have been forgotten, but they never will be.”
Lucas stiffened with Mr. Tyler’s effrontery. “My sister defended herself from a man who treated her in a brutal manner.”
“That is what your family has claimed. However, I know that whenever that Chickering woman is involved, things are not always as they appear.”
“Would you like to see the scar from where he shot me?” Lucas asked. “For not only did he almost kill my sister before she escaped the violence of her daily life with him, he shot my father and me the night he died.” Lucas began to unbutton his waistcoat, his cheeks flushed with his agitation.
“You will cease disrobing this instant in my home, sir!”
Zylphia giggled at Lucas’s impudence and Mr. Tyler’s discomfort. Lucas stilled his movements before settling his gaze on a detached Parthena. “Is that what you wish on your daughter? A marriage where her spirit is eroded from her? Maybe not with fists or violence but with a quiet condemnation of all she values?”
Parthena’s bottom lip quivered as she fought tears.
“She deserves better than that, sir. No matter how much money you’ve lost.” Lucas watched Mr. Tyler with abject scorn in his gaze. “Nothing is worth losing your daughter’s happiness.” Lucas nodded at Mr. Tyler, gripped Zylphia’s hand, and pushed past Parthena and her father as he flung open the sitting room door, his boot heels clicking on the marble floor.
Lucas stormed from the Tyler mansion, Zylphia’s long legs allowing her to keep up with his rapid pace. They strode down Commonwealth Avenue and crossed into the Public Garden. He slowed his pace as others strolling through the garden noted their frenetic movement. “Damn that man,” Lucas muttered.
“I don’t know what can be done for P.T.,” Zylphia murmured. She smiled at a passing matron, a woman who habitually frowned at Zylphia at balls. She nodded at another, a woman vaguely familiar from a recent suffragist gathering.
Zylphia grabbed his arm before he stormed down a shady side path in the garden. She then prevented him from plowing into a woman pushing a bassinette. “Lucas, why are you this upset? I have the sense you aren’t telling me something.” Her hold on his arm tightened as her gaze raced over the occupants in the garden but was distant, as though reexamining recent scenes. “You already knew Parthena. All of this was for show.”
Lucas flinched at the accusation in her voice. “Not now, Zee.”
“Tell me, Lucas. Did you really think me so stupid that I wouldn’t figure it out?”
“No, I had hoped you would remain so focused on Teddy and your suffragist activities that you’d continue to ignore the more clandestine activities of your friends.” He shared a desperate look with her. “Please, leave it be.”
“No, not when you’re as miserable as she is.” Her grip on his arm lessened and became soothing. “Why don’t you proclaim your intentions for her?”
Lucas ignored her question. “Are you still friends with Mrs. Chickering?”
“Of course.”
“Come then,” Lucas said, wending his way through the garden paths toward Beacon Street.
“We can’t call now,” Zylphia protested.
“Of course we can. I’ll charm her with some music,” Lucas said with a smile and a wink. “Besides, if she’s the same as I remember from years ago, she’ll be worried about your Miss Tyler.” He approached Sophronia’s front door and rapped on it.
He nodded at the butler who opened the door, smiling his understanding as they were ushered into the front hall while the butler determined if Mrs. Chickering was at home to receive them.
After a few moments, they were led upstairs to Sophie, relaxing in her informal parlor at the back of the house. “Had I realized you meant to call, I would have had the staff prepare tea,” Sophie said.
Lucas beamed at her, bending to kiss her on her cheek, his informality belying a close relationship with her.
“How are you, my dear boy?” she asked as she tapped him on his cheek.
“Well enough.”
“Although your transition home hasn’t been as smooth as you’d hoped,” Sophie said in her characteristic scratchy voice, her aquamarine eyes shining with perceptiveness.
He smiled with fondness at her. “You always know the gossip before it’s even happened.” He sobered. “No, it hasn’t gone as I’d expected, but I’m hopeful it will all resolve soon.”
“You know what you must do,” Sophie said. She shared a long look with Lucas, who nodded reluctantly. “However, I am curious as to what could bring you and my Zylphia here today.” Sophie frowned as she beheld Zylphia’s worried expression. “It’s that Tyler girl, isn’t it?”
“Of course. We had a horrible run-in with her father today,” Zylphia said, collapsing on a chair beside Sophie.
Lucas paced in front of the dormant fireplace. “He heard Miss Tyler and me playing the piano and became irate,” Lucas said.
“I should think that would be one of life’s greatest pleasures, to hear the two of you play together,” Sophie said. She harrumphed when Zylphia nodded her agreement.
“He was horrible, Sophie,” Zylphia said. “Bringing up Savannah’s scandal, saying that Lucas was a terrible influence for Part
hena. He also said it was my fault P.T. has to marry Mr. Wheeler because I forced Teddy to flee.”
“I always knew that man was pea-brained, and this proves it. He thinks to shackle his eldest daughter, the only one with any real gumption, to that ill-suited Morgan for money.”
“It is the way in your class,” Lucas said.
Sophie slammed down her hand on the edge of her chair. “When the girl has no sense and no desire for anything different, maybe. However, I refuse to believe that a woman must marry a man solely because her father is forcing her to do so.”
“What can she do, Sophie?” Zylphia asked. “Without her father’s support, she’ll have no money, nothing.”
“She knows she could come to me, but she never would because she wouldn’t want to cause a rift in the family.” Sophronia raised a speculative gaze at Lucas. “You should marry her.”
Lucas shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I can’t.”
“Why not? It’s perfect. You both love the piano, and you said yourself how she reminds you of Sav and Rissa,” Zylphia said.
Lucas sat in a chair and shook his head. He met Sophronia’s too-knowing gaze. “I’d love to marry her. It would be an honor to marry her. But she doesn’t want to marry me.”
“What?” Zylphia gasped, her mouth opening and closing as she attempted to form words and then decided to remain silent as she waited to hear what more he had to say.
“I thought you said you needed a wife who didn’t bring scandal. Absconding with Parthena after that ghastly announcement would bring a notoriety not often seen in Boston,” Sophie said, alluding to a private conversation they’d recently had.
“I know. I don’t care. She sees me, not the famous pianist. However, she doesn’t want me, and I have to accept that.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair, looking away from them as though to hide his internal anguish.
“Lucas …”
“Listen, Zee, she doesn’t want me. She forbade me from speaking with her father without her permission, and, after today’s confrontation with that man, we know that would be a pointless endeavor.” Lucas sighed. “It’s obvious he needs money and lots of it. He’s clinging to his respectability as the only thing worth bartering.” He tapped his legs in agitation.
Unrelenting Love: Banished Saga, Book Five Page 3
