Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four

by Ramona Flightner

“Beautiful and boisterous. As though it has all this energy and vitality, and yet it’s still determining what it will be. Boston is old and established, whereas, in San Francisco, there is a sense that anything could happen. I loved waking in the middle of the night and hearing the ships’ horns sounding. Peering out my window at dawn and being surrounded by dense fog, as though enveloped in cotton candy. And then, when the fog finally lifted, to look out into the majestic bay toward Alcatraz Island and the village of Sausalito. Such beauty is unparalleled.”

  “When were you last there?”

  “Oh, years ago. Our home was destroyed in the earthquake in 1906, and my father decided against rebuilding. He thought having two homes, one in Boston and the other in Montana, was sufficient.”

  “You sound as though you miss your San Francisco home.” Teddy stilled her movement, encouraging her with a slight pressure to rest on a low rock for a moment.

  “I miss the sense of possibilities. That I could be anyone or do anything. I feel stifled here.” She flushed at that admission. “I’ve never been to Montana, and I don’t know what kind of life my cousins live there.”

  “I can’t imagine a well-bred, wealthy woman should ever feel stifled.”

  “As you said yourself, most woman of my class seek contentment over needlepoint or a cup of weak tea. That’s not who I am.” Zylphia frowned as she rubbed at her ankle.

  “No. Although from what I know of your father, he would never stifle you.” At Zylphia’s curious stare, he smiled. “My family has business with him.”

  “What does your family do?”

  “They are in the import-export business in England, and my father has an interest in the exchange here. When my parents moved to the United States, they planned to settle in New York City, rather than Boston. However, my mother preferred Boston and thus insisted they make it their home. They purchased a home in Cambridge, and they’ve been there since.”

  “You didn’t mention what you do for work.” Zylphia rose, putting more pressure on her leg. She nodded to Teddy, and he offered his other arm.

  “I am working on a series of experiments to see if any of them are successful.”

  “For what?”

  He smiled mysteriously but refused to elaborate. Their walk resumed again, this time at a faster rate.

  “Do you know Mr. Hubbard from university?”

  “No. We met by chance a few years ago when my mother insisted I attend a soiree.” He glanced down at her inquisitive face. “I attended school in England.”

  “All of it?”

  “Yes, from the age of eight on. I returned here only for long breaks from school.”

  “I loved university,” Zylphia said on a long sigh. “I never minded the homework. Well, except for math as I never much liked it.” She sensed rather than heard him chuckle.

  “I’m glad you were able to attend university, Miss McLeod. A mind such as yours should have the opportunity to never stop learning.”

  He paused at the edge of the expansive lawn leading up from the walk and the cliffs to the mansion. They were momentarily hidden in a hedge, separating the neighboring property from their hosts’ land. The large gray-stoned multidormered mansion with its black mansard roof sat majestically in a rare ray of sunlight. “If you prefer, I shall leave you here to return on your own.”

  Zylphia’s hand tightened on his arm for a moment before releasing it. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Goff.”

  He smiled with a hint of self-mocking humor. “I rarely have an opportunity to aid a damsel in distress. It was my pleasure.”

  Zylphia giggled before sobering.

  He watched her with a fierce intensity as she transformed from the inquisitive, free-spirited woman who’d walked back with him to a demure woman of society.

  She nodded to him before starting a slow, lumbering limp up the hill toward the house.

  He settled into the hedge, listening as her friends called out for her, their exultant hellos transforming into coos of worry. After fifteen minutes, when the voices had faded and the lulling waves and the chirping birds were his only companions, he strolled onto the lawn. Only as he neared the house did he realize his unremitting unease had dissipated.

  A perfunctory knock sounded at the door a moment before it swung open. Sophronia strode in, only to halt as she beheld Zylphia resting on a chaise longue, a loose beige cotton wrap covering her.

  “Why aren’t you dressed for the evening?” Sophie shut the door and marched forward, her walking stick clicking on the exposed wooden aspects of the floor.

  “I hurt my ankle. I couldn’t possibly stand all evening and socialize. Never mind dance.”

  “Was the doctor called?” Sophie asked as she dragged over a chair to sit next to the chaise and face Zylphia.

  “No. I believe it’s simply a horrible sprain.”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow and pointed with her chin to the hem of Zylphia’s wrap. “Show me.”

  Zylphia flicked up the long skirt of her wrap to reveal a reddened, swollen ankle.

  “Good heavens. How did such a thing happen?”

  “While on my ramble this morning along the cliff walk, I twisted my ankle. Thankfully I met Mr. Goff, who helped me return to the house.”

  “This is more than a slight sprain.” Sophie reached forward and traced the swollen ankle, evoking a quiver of pain in Zylphia. “I’m thankful Mr. Goff was there to aid you. What did you think of him?”

  “I’m uncertain. He excels at eliciting information while offering very little about himself.”

  “I’ve always thought him to be a shy man who hides in his laboratory, terrified of what might occur if he were to fully engage with the world.”

  “That’s uncharitable, Sophie.”

  “Hmph. But true. He has a lot to offer but refuses to acknowledge it.”

  “Well, after my clumsiness, all I needed was his aid to return to the house. A walk that should have lasted fifteen minutes took nearly an hour.”

  “How chivalrous of him to ensure you arrived home safely.” Sophie frowned again at Zylphia’s leg. “Was it difficult to be in his presence for such a long duration?”

  Zylphia collapsed against the chaise cushions, a long sigh escaping. “He almost had me admitting my orphanage origins and the fact I didn’t meet father until I was sixteen.”

  Sophronia grimaced. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, but I’m afraid those here will be less than charitable if they realize the extent of your humble beginnings. For many, it’s difficult enough your father is the first in his family to make his fortune.”

  “Hypocritical, if you ask me. All they care about is money, and Father has plenty of it.”

  Sophie smirked and then chuckled. “Which only proves the point, how you are unlike the rest. If all that concerned you was marrying the wealthiest man here, you’d have insisted Mr. Goff coerce his friend Morgan Wheeler to spend more time with you as a form of penance. Owen Hubbard might be wealthy, but Mr. Wheeler’s family has begun to rival that of the Vanderbilts and Astors when it comes to wealth.”

  Zylphia rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why all these women are fixated on these men only for their money. Don’t they want more from life?”

  “Many do, but their mothers want them to marry well. For them, having financial security is important.”

  “Marrying a man with a steady job means having financial security.”

  Sophie’s bark of laughter echoed through the room. “Ah, you are a breath of fresh air. Now if only you could befriend some of these young women and encourage them to our way of thinking with regard to the vote.”

  “I’ve tried, Sophie. Except for P.T. and Rowena, the rest think I’m a radical.”

  “Well, you are, darling. And Parthena and Rowena don’t count because they were already your friends before you arrived.” Sophie glanced toward the small clock on the dresser. “I must go down soon. Let me inquire if any ice could be spared. I think it might soothe the pain an
d ease the swelling.”

  “That would be lovely. I dread sleeping tonight.” She raised an eyebrow and shook her head, cutting off Sophie’s words. “And, no, I do not want a sleeping tonic or some nasty potion that will leave me in a confused state.”

  “As you wish, my dear. Let me also ensure that dinner is delivered to you. I imagine you are quite famished.”

  Zylphia smiled with a hint of guilt. “I had one of the maids steal a few scones for me at tea time.”

  Sophie shook her head in disgust, her distinctive eyes flashing with ire. “Our hostess should have ensured you were well taken care of when she learned you were ailing. I should have been informed too, as I am technically your chaperone. I can’t believe Pamela has become so lax in her standards.”

  “I believe she is attentive to those she deems worthy.” She patted Sophie’s hand. “Don’t bother yourself on my account. We always knew the upper echelons of society would never fully accept me due to my questionable origins. And my inability to learn how to follow all their rules. I’m simply thankful you were able to obtain an invitation for me so that my parents could travel to Montana for Gabriel and Clarissa.”

  “I still fail to understand why you refused to go with your parents.”

  “You remember what Gabe and Rissa were like in Washington, DC. I couldn’t bear to be around that much tension again. Besides, I feared I’d never have another chance to experience the splendor of a Newport summer house party.”

  “And has it lived up to all your expectations?” Sophie stroked a hand over Zylphia’s raven hair, fashioned in a loose braid over one shoulder.

  “Yes! Everyone is exactly as I imagined they would be. Pompous, self-righteous and entertaining in their own way.” She paused, breaking eye contact with Sophie as she raised an eyebrow at her brittle smile. “I had hoped they would be more accepting of me.”

  Sophronia frowned at her admission. “Those that matter accept you.”

  “You can’t force your acquaintances to foist their sons at me in the hopes they would deign to dance with me. Or for them to willingly propel their daughters in my direction at tea time, hoping their polish will obscure my tarnish.”

  Sophie’s eyes flashed with indignation. “There is nothing tarnished about you. You may have rough manners and say what you think—often before you think through what you truly believe or wish to say. However, there is no reason to believe that you wouldn’t provide them with much-needed enlightenment from their limited viewpoints.” Sophie studied her protégé. “As for finding a man to dance with and become entangled with, I’ve never believed you were eager to wed.”

  “I’m not. Not while I want to do so much. For myself and for the cause. A husband would prevent me from doing what I love.”

  “Not all men are tyrants, dearest. Look to your cousins and father. They allow their wives the freedom to do what they need, knowing that their wife’s contentment will only lead to a more fulfilling marriage.”

  “Few men are as evolved,” Zylphia grumbled.

  Sophie cackled. “Very astute. However, I have every faith you’ll find such a man.” She patted Zylphia gently on the knee and heaved herself to her feet. “I must go down to dinner and give your excuses to Pamela. If you need anything, call for the maid.”

  “Thank you, Sophie.”

  When Zylphia settled on the chaise longue, a listlessness pervaded her. The open window next to her allowed wisps of conversations to enter. She closed her eyes, entertaining herself with what she imagined the guests discussed. The discordant notes of the small orchestra warming up soon eclipsed their conversations, and Zylphia listened as they played snippets of songs. She swayed in place, envisioning herself dancing with the handsome men present at the house party.

  She shook herself from her reverie when a maid knocked at her door. After the maid entered, carrying a heavy tray overstuffed with more food than four people could eat, Zylphia settled at the vanity, converting it into her dining table for the evening.

  After trying each dish, she settled on finishing the soup and chicken. A bowl of berry trifle awaited her for when she desired dessert. In her boredom, she stacked the dishes on the tray to tidy up and make it easier for the maid to carry away.

  She picked up the bowl of trifle, setting it and a spoon aside to save for later. She frowned as she noted a folded sheet of thick cream-colored paper that had been hidden under the trifle bowl. She grasped it and hobbled back to her settee.

  After arranging a small throw blanket on her legs, she opened the note.

  My Dear Miss McLeod,

  I am deeply saddened to learn the injury you sustained today will prevent you from joining the festivities this evening. I had hoped to have the pleasure of dancing with you, after watching you dance with such elegance last evening with Mr. Hubbard.

  I wish you a quick recovery.

  Tedd Goff

  Zylphia raised the letter to her nose, catching a hint of sandalwood. She smiled, remembering that smell from her walk with Theodore Goff earlier in the day. She slipped the message inside her book to read again another day.

  14

  Zylphia walked with a barely discernible limp down the ornate stairs to meet Sophie, Parthena and Rowena in the main hall. The hall was three stories high, with a fresco covering the ceiling’s large expanse. The doors facing the sea were open, and a light breeze cooled the expansive hall.

  “About time,” Sophie grumbled as she thunked her cane and walked toward the porte cochere. A white automobile with the cover pulled back awaited the women, and Sophronia sat comfortably in front while the three younger women crammed into the back of the car. They giggled when their wide brimmed hats bumped into each other as they settled in for the short ride down Bellevue Avenue. Their journey slowed to a near crawl as numerous cars merged onto the street in front of them.

  Zylphia stared at the opulent houses they passed, enjoying their slow progression as it allowed her more time to stare. At their destination, their car drove through ornate black wrought-iron gates, along a driveway, pausing to drop them off in front of a large portico. Zylphia stepped out before the white marble building, its three white Corinthian pillars gleaming in the sunlight, and its large brass door opened invitingly. She followed Rowena, Parthena and Sophie into the mansion, stopping to marvel at the gold-brown marble covering the floor and walls in the entranceway, with a gilded room to the right and a room of pink marble to the left. A curved staircase wound its way up one side of the wall, and a fresco painting overhead was framed by golden florets.

  She hastened to follow her group and emerged onto the back terrace, where crowds mingled, all discussing the need for universal suffrage. She started as someone approached her and affixed a Votes for Women pin on her coral-colored linen jacket covering her matching dress before moving on to the next person. She traced the pin, a satisfied smile escaping, as she ventured farther onto the terrace.

  Zylphia moved to one side as she saw Sophie speak with members of her group, her cane waving haphazardly and smacking an unsuspecting bystander. Zylphia smiled at the woman’s outrage and Sophie’s unrepentant shrug as she argued for suffrage. Rowena and Parthena had disappeared into the crowd. Zylphia chose to lean against the back wall of the terrace, a place that maintained a good view of the speakers. She sighed as she glanced around the crowded terrace and back lawn.

  “Why the sigh, Miss McLeod?”

  She jumped in response to the voice beside her.

  “Forgive me for startling you.” Theodore Goff smiled as he leaned up against the marble wall.

  “Mr. Goff, you surprised me.” She took a deep breath. “How are you?”

  “I should be asking you that question. How are you today after yesterday’s incident?” His concerned gray eyes met her embarrassed blue eyes.

  “I’m fine. Please, don’t trouble yourself.”

  “I saw you walking with a limp.” He frowned as he looked at her leg, covered in linen skirts in a vibrant coral. He frowne
d further as he watched Zylphia transform into a placid woman of leisure, any curiosity or vitality forcibly squelched.

  She brushed at her skirts, probably to ensure her legs were covered, and folded her hands demurely in front of her. She held herself erect, no longer leaning against the marble wall. “There’s no need for your concern. I’m perfectly fine today.”

  He studied her closely, battling to keep his face politely neutral, fighting the frown that wanted to transform into a glower. “Did you receive my note?”

  Zylphia flushed. “I did, although I’m certain it wasn’t proper.”

  Tedd bit back a smile. “I’ve never been known to follow conventions.” He glanced over the crowd that had begun to hush as the speakers approached the podium. “Have you heard any of them before?” He watched as Zylphia shook her head no.

  He watched her battle curiosity before she blurted out her question. “Why are you here? I wouldn’t think your friends would approve.”

  Teddy chuckled. “I find that women often see sense before men do. I overheard you and your friends discussing suffragism the other evening and was curious. Besides, if you look closely, you’ll see I’m not the only man here.”

  She looked away, her lips twitching as she noted a few well-dressed men scattered throughout the throngs of women. The speakers stepped up to the podium and Zylphia leaned forward, forgetting Teddy and all the others present, as the speakers touted the success of the parade in the spring at bringing much-needed attention to the ideals of the suffrage movement. She canted forward even more as Alva Vanderbilt Belmont, the owner of Marble House, began to speak. Zylphia stifled a giggle at a few of Alva’s proclamations and clapped loudly when she finished speaking.

  “Would your father approve?” Teddy asked as those gathered began to mingle. He knew the main goal was to encourage those present to donate to the cause, with various women moving through the crowd with donation baskets.

  “Of course he approves of women obtaining the vote.” Zylphia rose to her full height, grimacing as she placed weight on her injured ankle.