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

by Ramona Flightner

  “She isn’t a whore, nor is she some animal trained by a cruel master.” Rissa pulled at her arm but remained tethered to him.

  “You think not? I’m certain my months of training will come to bear on her wedding night. She won’t be thinking of your dear brother when he touches her. Just as I’m sure you weren’t thinking of your dear Gabriel when he touched you that night. Do you still dream of Cameron’s touch?”

  “You bastard,” she hissed, slapping him across the face with her free hand.

  He reached forward, gripping her by her hair, his actions hidden by a fake tree. She gave a muffled yell as he covered her mouth with his other hand. He yelped when she bit so hard on his palm that she drew blood.

  He tugged on her hair, forcing her head up as he leaned over her, even though only a few inches taller than her. “You think your Gabriel is better than me? He’s the same as any man. I’ll let you in on a little secret, cousin. All men think like I do about women. All men wish they could treat women as I do. They simply lack the influence and fortune to do it with impunity.”

  When he tugged her farther into the alcove, she lifted her skirts, and he laughed. “Already eager for what I can offer you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, granting herself more freedom by raising the hem of her skirts. Her answer pleased him, and he loosened his hold on her head. She wriggled in his grip, and, when he bent forward to kiss her, she kneed him in the groin with all her might. “That is what I think of your attentions.”

  When he groaned and collapsed to the floor, she kicked him in the stomach. “That is what I think of men like you.” She kicked him again. “How dare you compare yourself to Gabriel?” She reared back to kick him a third time, unaware tears of anger coursed down her cheek. Strong arms gripped her from behind and pulled her away.

  “It’s all right, my darling,” Gabriel whispered, tucking her into his arms. When she settled, he chuckled. “Ah, you were fierce, my love. I couldn’t be more proud.”

  “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I do. The mere mention of him puts me in a rage. The sight of him makes me want to do physical harm to him.” He held her as she shuddered. “Never forget. Everything he says is poison.”

  “I know. But I do worry how much he’s harmed Patrick’s relationship with Fiona.”

  Gabriel ran a hand down her head. “That’s for them to straighten out, love.” Gabriel looked over to see his brother speaking in low tones to a prostrate Henry.

  Jeremy whispered to Henry, “Must be a hell of a thing to realize a slip of a woman can bring you so low. I would say it unmanned you, but you never really were a man, were you?” When Henry raised irate eyes to his, Jeremy grasped his arm in a punishing grip. “Stay away from the McLeods, the Sullivans, anyone who has to do with our family. If you don’t, you’ll come to realize a well-placed blow by Clarissa was the better part of the bargain.” He slapped Henry on the shoulder and rose, nodding to Gabriel as he led Clarissa from the alcove to freshen up before rejoining the party.

  Fiona lay underneath the covers, pulled to her chin, in the ornate room rented for them by Patrick’s family at the Finlen Hotel. When Patrick entered, her wan smile failed to alleviate his concerned gaze. “I won’t bother you tonight, Fee.”

  She sighed with relief as she collapsed against the pillows. She stiffened when he sat beside her on his side of the bed. She calmed her panicked thoughts and thought of conversation. “Did you enjoy the day?” At his nod, she bit her lip. “Your family has gone to too much trouble on our behalf.”

  “They like to meddle. They always have. Now that Sav has money, more money than she knows what to do with, she’ll continue to be generous.” He flushed as he failed to meet her gaze.

  “What more has she done?” Fiona was unable to fight a smile at his discomfort.

  “She’s bought us a house here in Butte.” He gripped her hand. “I think she’d have preferred to buy one in Missoula, but she understood you have family here. I also have work, and a means of supporting us. I refuse to live off of my cousin’s charity as I re-establish myself as an architect.”

  Fiona sat up straight in bed, her concern about holding the covers to her chest forgotten. “She can’t have. It’s too much.”

  He sighed, falling backward on the bed until his head was pillowed on her lap.

  After a moment of awkwardness, she ran her fingers through his hair and relaxed.

  “Try telling that to her as she’s handing you a deed to a house, fully furnished, with the option to change anything we don’t like.”

  “What is it?” Fiona whispered, her hands massaging his head.

  He tilted his head to give her better access, stifling a groan of pleasure as she rubbed at a knot at the top of his spine. “I was without family for so long, it seems unfathomable at times to have them all back again. For them to welcome me back.”

  “You’re a good man, Patrick. Of course they’d welcome you back.” She dug her fingers into a knot in his shoulders, and he groaned, rolling to his stomach and off her lap as she pushed him to the bed. She rose to her knees and continued her massage. Even when she finished, she stroked his back, upper arms and shoulders.

  “My only regret about remaining here is that you might see Henry,” Patrick said, turning his head to meet his wife’s guarded expression. “I rarely interact with him now that I’m no longer one of his favored workers, but I hate that he could harm you in some way.”

  “He won’t, Patrick.” She ran a soothing hand over his upper back and he arched into her touch.

  “You don’t know that,” he said, rolling onto his back and meeting her worried gaze. “There are many hours in the day when I’ll be at work and you’ll be home alone. I hate to think anything could happen to you.”

  She caressed her fingertips over his eyebrows, soothing away the furrows that had formed. “I hold no interest to him now.”

  “I pray you are correct.” He kissed her fingers that had dropped toward his lips, frowning as she flinched from his display of affection. “I have no expectations tonight, Fee. It’s enough for you to touch me of your own volition.”

  “I’m sorry, Patrick,” she whispered.

  He reached out and traced her cheek, brushing away a strand of hair. He sighed as her pleasure dimmed at his soft touch. “Someday, when I touch you, when you look at me, you won’t think of him first. You’ll only think of me.” His hand fell to the coverlet, and he pushed himself up. “Enjoy your sleep, Fee.” He kissed her on her forehead, rose and exited the bedroom for the sitting room.

  33

  The McLeods left the Missoula Opera House in early July, the strains of Lucas’s music lilting in their ears. Clarissa beamed as she held Gabriel’s hand for a moment, before grabbing Myrtle’s and Geraldine’s hands, spinning them as she hummed aloud. They giggled, and Clarissa shared a contented smile with Gabriel. They walked the short distance to the Florence Hotel, where a reception was to be held on the second floor. She listened to the exuberant proclamations about Lucas’s talent as they walked, content in her silence.

  Gabriel held Billy, already nodding asleep against his shoulder, and they entered the large reception room lit with electric light chandeliers. The room was cleared of its customary tables and chairs so that their group could move freely. A long table along the far wall held punch and snacks. Clarissa saw women standing to the side of the room, yellow sashes strung across their chests, waiting for the room to fill before they mingled and cajoled a few coins from those gathered here in support of the referendum.

  Zylphia gripped Clarissa’s hand. “I’d love for Lucas to meet my friend Parthena in Boston. She’s a pianist also, although she’d argue she doesn’t have nearly Lucas’s talent.”

  “I’m sure he’d enjoy meeting her,too, sometime,” she murmured, as they applauded his arrival with Savannah, Jeremy and Melinda.

  He saw them and winked. Clarissa found a sofa for Geraldine and Myrtle, and they sat with Melinda who jo
ined them. Araminta moved to stand near them, motioning for Clarissa to rejoin the crowd and Lucas.

  Clarissa approached Lucas and gave him a hug and kiss. “It was an extraordinary concert, Lucas. Your new composition is stunning.”

  “I’m thankful I had it ready for this performance,” he said with a nod to those around him. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled as Patrick and Colin thumped him on his back in congratulations before moving to speak with other members of the assembled crowd.

  Clarissa wandered over to Gabriel and Jeremy, grimacing as she saw Lucas cornered by Mrs. Vaughan and Mrs. Bouchard. Mrs. Vaughan wore a bright teal dress accentuating her large backside and bosom, while Mrs. Bouchard wore a fuchsia dress, nearly as ill fitted as her sister’s. Mrs. Vaughan’s daughter, Veronica, stood silently by as her mother prattled away. Clarissa saw Lucas attempt to move on a few times, but Mrs. Vaughan gripped his arm, preventing his escape.

  “Should we save him?” Jeremy asked, hiding his smile as he took a sip of the punch.

  “I’m not facing those two harpies,” Gabriel said as he chuckled. “Oh, God,” he whispered, biting back a full-bodied laugh.

  Clarissa glanced toward Lucas, seeing Colin now ensnared in the sisters’ web. “This would be amusing if it weren’t so tragic. Look at how miserable her daughter is,” she murmured.

  Mrs. Vaughan’s daughter looked at the ground, refusing to meet Colin’s gaze, a red flush on her neck and cheeks.

  “I wonder that her mother can be so cruel,” Savannah whispered, joining them.

  “Well, her mother never has been the most insightful,” Gabriel said, watching as Mrs. Vaughan latched on to Colin’s arm as though her hand were a talon, preventing him from escaping their group.

  He attempted to joke his way out of the awkward moment, but his shoulders and posture became increasingly tense the longer he stood with them. Finally he freed his arm, applying enough force that Mrs. Vaughan tottered on her heels and nearly fell over. He slapped Lucas on the back and led him away.

  At Clarissa’s giggle and Savannah’s snicker, Colin glanced at them, shaking his head in frustration. Clarissa caught a flash of amusement in his eyes before he guided Lucas to speak to other members of Missoula society.

  “Hester,” Clarissa said as Miss Loken sidled past them. “How wonderful to see you. Were you able to attend the concert?”

  “Yes, I was. Thank you for the ticket,” she said, a soft blush highlighting her freckles. “It was wondrous.”

  “Lucas is very talented,” Savannah said. “Before he was famous, he used to spend his evenings entertaining us.”

  “You’re very fortunate,” Hester said, smiling her thanks as Jeremy handed her a glass of punch.

  “We are. We’re even more fortunate he has decided to perform rather than work in his father’s linen store.” Jeremy nodded to Hester as he joined their group.

  “Oh, his talents would have been wasted,” Hester said.

  “We haven’t seen you in some time, Hester,” Clarissa said. “Are you well?”

  “Yes, the library keeps me busy.” She flushed. “I’m sorry I haven’t come by since that evening in October. I’ve wanted to apologize for my behavior, but, as the days and then months passed, I didn’t know how.”

  “I wanted to ask you to forgive us for attacking your beliefs. You have as much right to believe what you do as anyone else,” Clarissa said. “I’d like us to remain friends.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Clarissa excused herself to check on the children. Araminta smiled at Clarissa as she approached the children, now mostly asleep or in a dazed state on the sofa. With Clarissa’s arrival, Araminta had a few moments for herself, and she moved away to speak with the women suffragists circling the room and for a glass of punch. Unfortunately she was cornered by Mrs. Vaughan at the punch bowl.

  “I don’t know why you are here with them,” Mrs. Vaughan said in her quietest voice possible. However, she’d been hard of hearing for over a decade, and her voice emerged as a stifled bellow.

  “I have as much right to be here as the next person,” Araminta responded. She picked up her glass of punch and a cookie, her attempt to sidestep Mrs. Vaughan thwarted when Mrs. Bouchard moved to stand beside her sister, forming a near impenetrable wall of indignant large women.

  “I don’t know why we should expect better, with the company you keep,” Mrs. Bouchard said.

  “I keep excellent company. There are no better in this town than the McLeods and the Sullivans.” Araminta lifted her chin, unable to hide her pride in her association with the two families.

  “If you prefer to consort with women of loose morals who’ve never learned the acceptable role of a woman.” Mrs. Vaughan glared at Savannah and Clarissa, who were laughing with Lucas as they sat with their children.

  “If you mean, remaining at home, starching their husbands’ shirts, taking care of their children, cooking in the kitchen, then I would have to agree with you,” Araminta said with an arched eyebrow.

  “They’ve brought you down their dishonorable path, and I’d think your parents would be ashamed of your conduct, Miss Araminta,” Mrs. Bouchard said with a sniff of disdain.

  “I know of no such misconduct, thus there has been no need to feel any shame.” She stiffened her shoulders.

  “Your licentious relationship with Mr. Sullivan is widely spoken of,” Mrs. Vaughan said in her bellowing whisper, causing those nearby to stiffen as they listened in.

  “I do not know to what you refer,” Araminta whispered, paling as she realized she was the center of unwanted attention.

  “The easy access to your body, outside of the bonds of matrimony, is the reason he’s yet to make an offer for my beloved niece. Your selfishness, your inability to follow the moral dictates of society, just like those McLeod women, has denied a young woman of her dream of matrimony. How dare you be so selfish,” Mrs. Bouchard hissed.

  “You are mistaken.” Araminta pushed past them, inadvertently spilling her punch on Mrs. Vaughan and smashing her pastry on Mrs. Bouchard. Araminta rushed from the room, ignoring the worried calls of Clarissa and Colin.

  Colin returned to Savannah’s house, leaving the party early, before the rest of the McLeod and Sullivan clan. He let himself in with a spare key, taking a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the shadows and darkness. He stopped, listening intently for any sound from Araminta. After a moment, he heard a quiet sob coming from the rear of the house. He walked down the long hallway, easing open the conservatory door. A lamp in the corner limned the room with faint light.

  “Ari,” he whispered.

  Her head jerked up, her face blotchy and streaked with tears. She lay on a sofa, a pillow clutched to her chest. At his entrance, she sat up. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re just making the gossip worse.”

  “What gossip?” Colin asked. He reached forward, smudging away her tears. He frowned as they fell to the floor. “Why did you leave in such distress after speaking to the sisters?”

  Araminta shook her head, sobs bursting forth. She bent her head forward, refusing to look at him.

  “Why won’t you face me?” He touched her shoulder, frowning when she flinched at his touch. “Ari, I’d never hurt you.”

  At her persistent sobs, he pulled her forward until she toppled off the sofa onto the floor next to him. He settled her so she leaned against him, and he encouraged her to nestle into him. “There’s nothing that bad to merit all this crying. Especially if it has to do with those wretched sisters.”

  “They … they said because of me you aren’t marrying Veronica.”

  Colin snorted. “That’s the fantasy they’ve spun for themselves. I’d never marry Veronica. Not if she were the last woman here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I am. What kind of simpleton would bind himself to a woman whose mother is such a malicious gossipmonger? Not to mention the mother comes with an equal busybody in the form of the mother’s sister
. It’d be like having two horrendous mothers-in-law.”

  He felt her shudder as her sobs slowly abated. “I’d never want to …” Araminta whispered.

  He waited, but she failed to speak anything further. “You’d never what, Ari?”

  “Never want to keep you from being truly happy.”

  “Ari, what is this all about? It doesn’t make any sense.” He leaned away, taking her face between his palms and forcing her to meet his worried gaze.

  “They said it was common knowledge you had no interest in marriage because I shared your bed. If I wasn’t such a loosely moraled woman, like Savannah and Clarissa, you would be inclined to marry an upright woman.”

  “They think we … That we’ve …” Colin sputtered, a light flush on his cheeks.

  “They made their proclamations so loudly that others heard. Soon, most in town will have suspicions about us.” Araminta lowered her gaze.

  “Let them. I could never care what they think. Those I love know the truth. As do we.” He traced away a silver tear track. “I’m sorry my friendship has made you vulnerable to their spiteful attacks.”

  “No, please don’t regret being my friend. I’d be lost without it,” Araminta said on a rush.

  Colin smiled. “As would I.” He pulled her close, holding her in his arms. He sighed as she settled, holding her against his chest until he heard the sounds of the others arriving.

  Savannah looped her arm through Lucas’s as they walked toward her home across the river. Jeremy followed with a sleepy Melinda, fatigue silencing her habitually inquisitive nature. “You performed beautifully tonight.”

  “Thanks, Sav. I want to always play my best, but tonight, with all my family there, I wanted my performance to be even more special.” He winked at her. “What’s with Colin and the women of this town?”

  Savannah chuckled. “Ever since he bought the forge and turned it into a roaring success”—she squeezed his arm as he chuckled at her weak pun—“he’s had the interest of most of the families here in Missoula. Especially those intent in marrying off their daughters. However, he’s never had much interest in them. Now it seems, they believe it’s due to Minta.”