Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3

by Ramona Flightner

  “And when you tell her there has been no impropriety?”

  “She raises an eyebrow and smirks at my rumpled state,” Savannah said as she blushed rosily.

  “Rumpled?” Jeremy’s brow furrowed. “Oh, well, that was because you were crying.”

  “She has a vivid imagination,” Savannah whispered.

  “As do I,” Jeremy said.

  Savannah blushed a rosier red and dropped her gaze.

  He raised her chin with two fingers to meet his gaze. “I mean no offense, Savannah. Please forgive me for teasing you.”

  “Does that mean you don’t imagine …” Savannah’s voice faded as she met Jeremy’s intense stare.

  “Oh, I imagine,” he whispered huskily.

  Savannah took a deep breath and leaned forward, kissing him hard on the lips. Jeremy grunted as their noses bumped. He pulled away, a chuckle escaping him, as he caressed her cheek.

  “There’s no rush, sweet Savannah,” he murmured. He canted forward, capturing her lips with his. On her sigh, he deepened the kiss. He stroked a hand over her hair, dislodging a few pins, before brushing his hands down her back, whisper soft. He scooted toward her, tangling his long legs in her skirts.

  Many minutes later, Jeremy leaned away, dropping his hands from Savannah. She watched him with wide eyes, two fingers to her lips. “I should—” he began but was cut off as Savannah stopped his words with her fingers.

  “—not speak,” she said with a tremulous smile. She leaned forward and kissed him once more before standing.

  “I must return to Sophie’s,” Savannah murmured, as she reached up to her hair.

  “There’s a mirror in the corner,” Jeremy said as he pointed at the stove.

  She moved toward it, unpinning her hair and finger-combing it. She pulled it into a ponytail and formed a loose knot at the nape of her neck before jabbing pins in place. “That will have to do,” she said as she looked at herself in the mirror. “I just have to hope that Sophie doesn’t remember how I had my hair fashioned before I left today.”

  “Doubtful. That woman seems as sharp as a hawk.” Jeremy reached out to stroke her earlobe and the side of her neck. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any difficulty.”

  “I just hope your imagination was satisfied,” Savannah murmured, raising her hand to hold his by the side of her neck.

  “Oh, I’m far from satisfied, sweet Savannah. But this is a good beginning,” Jeremy said with latent heat in his eyes.

  “I’ll try to call again soon.” Savannah grinned at him. She released his hand and moved toward the door.

  ***

  “IS THAT YOU, DEAREST?” Aunt Betsy called out. “I hope you had an enjoyable afternoon with your friend.”

  Savannah entered the parlor and leaned down to kiss Aunt Betsy.

  “It’s clear she did, Betsy,” Sophie said as she studied Savannah.

  “Are there any sandwiches left? I’m a bit hungry,” Savannah said, as she reached for the cup of tea her aunt had prepared for her.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised, from the look of you,” Sophie said.

  “I look perfectly respectable, and you know it,” Savannah said with a glower.

  “Unless you look in your eyes,” Sophie said. A smile bloomed as she studied Savannah. “I haven’t seen you this happy, truly happy, since your arrival here three months ago. And don’t try any insipid nonsense that you were with Florence cooing over baby patterns.” Her aquamarine gaze dared her to tell the truth.

  “Florence was out again—” Savannah said.

  “I’ve never known a person needing to do so much shopping,” Aunt Betsy said with an amused smile.

  “Thus I visited with Mr. McLeod.”

  “I suspected as much,” Sophie said. “Although this time I refuse to believe any claim to crying in his arms as the reason for your rumpled state, Savannah.”

  Savannah felt her ears reddening. “We had an interesting … discussion about imaginations.”

  Sophie cackled. “Ah, be careful, my dear. When you start that sort of discussion, they tend to lead to experiments.” She raised and lowered her eyebrows in a teasing manner.

  Aunt Betsy giggled. “I agree, although I don’t know as I would warn caution. It seems to me you’ve lived your life filled with caution and have had very little pleasure for it.”

  Savannah sobered. “Yes, well. We all know nothing will come of my visits. It’s nice to feel …”

  “Yes?” Aunt Betsy asked.

  “Anything,” Savannah whispered as, in an instant, she was blinking away tears.

  “Oh, Savannah.” Aunt Betsy set down her teacup and reached out to clasp Savannah’s hand. “Now I must ask your forgiveness as I had to ask Clarissa for hers. I’m sorry I didn’t take a more active role in your life when you were younger.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The few times I attempted to give Matilda advice, she became very upset. I had no wish to cause a rift in the family and be separated from my niece and nephew, thus I kept my concerns to myself. I’ve known for some time that I was wrong, and I’m sadder than I can say.”

  “Nothing you could have said would have changed my decision,” Savannah said.

  “Well, there’s no reason to reimagine the past, as it is done. Now we can only learn from it and ensure that the future is more to our liking.” She patted Savannah’s hand before releasing it.

  “There is nothing between Mr. McLeod and me. He’s a good friend. Besides, a relationship would be completely unacceptable.”

  “To whom?” Sophie asked. “To your snobbish grandparents or insufferable mother? What did their guidance bring you the last time? I’d think you’d have the sense to shed the prejudices that they attempted to instill in you and think for yourself.”

  “Clarissa’s love of Gabriel is not unacceptable, Savannah,” Aunt Betsy argued. “He’s a good man, and he provides well for her. He might not be as wealthy as you expected, but money is a cold bedfellow. As I believe you know.”

  Savannah flinched from the gentle reproach in her aunt’s voice. “I know,” Savannah said in a small voice.

  “Although I believe you have listened to too much advice in your life and have not learned to trust your own instincts, I’m going to give you more advice.” Sophie’s eyes twinkled with wry humor. “Take some time away from him. I’d hate to see you leaving one man, only to begin with another. Take time to know who you are first.”

  “Jeremy is nothing like Jonas,” Savannah hissed.

  “Jeremy, is it?” Sophie asked with a raised eyebrow. “I know he isn’t, but you’re missing my point. My hope for you is that you learn what it is you want from life and for your life, independent of the wishes and desires of a man or other members of your family. As long as you continue to see him, you will not have that opportunity. This is your chance for self-discovery, Savannah.”

  “Is that fair to him?” Betsy asked. “It seems Savannah’s a regular visitor. If she disappears, he’ll worry.”

  “Savannah’s spent her life considering the concerns of those around her,” Sophronia said. “Now is her time.”

  “What do you think, Savannah?” Aunt Betsy asked.

  “I will consider what you both say,” Savannah said. “If you’ll excuse me, I wish for time alone.”

  She rose, ascending the stairs and walking down the hallway to her room at the rear of the house. She barely noted the paintings on the wall or the small tables with vases overflowing with fragrant flowers.

  She collapsed onto the chaise longue, her mind filled with Jeremy. His voice. His quiet approval of her shining forth from his eyes. His touch. His passionate kisses. Her fingers stole to her lips and traced them, and she couldn’t prevent a smile from bursting forth. She swallowed a giggle, curling onto her side.

  She longed for Clarissa, for the days when they were each other’s confidantes. How she needed to speak with her, gain her advice. Was it normal to feel a mixed-up jumble of emotions? Was it n
ormal to dream of kissing Jeremy? Of craving his gentle touch? Of wanting even more with him?

  In an instant she blinked away tears, realizing she could have lived her entire life without knowing any of the passion and pleasure from today’s encounter with Jeremy. Maybe Sophie was right that she needed time away. But how was she to stay away from a man who finally made her feel like a desirable woman?

  ***

  A WEEK AFTER SAVANNAH’S ENCOUNTER with Jeremy in his workshop, Savannah continued to battle her own vivid imagination. In an attempt to heed Sophronia’s advice, she decided to visit Florence rather than Jeremy on a bright late-September day.

  “Hello, Savannah,” Florence said.

  “Is this an inopportune time to visit?” Savannah asked, watching as Florence swiped at the sweat on her brow.

  “No. Don’t leave!” Florence grasped Savannah’s arm and pulled her inside. “I could use the help.” She moved toward a small room off the dark hallway. “I know this is improper, but I’m so tired I can’t seem to mind.”

  Florence pushed open the bedroom door. Savannah jerked to a stop to find Jeremy on a bed, across the room, the sheets tangled around his waist.

  “You’re right, this is highly improper,” Savannah stammered. She looked toward a wall, trying to focus on anything but Jeremy’s prostrate form.

  “You’ve been married. Nothing should come as a surprise to you,” Florence said with a wicked smile. “However, I’m not asking you to do anything that will mortify you. Just help me care for him. Wipe his brow, talk to him when he starts thrashing about.”

  Florence moved toward Jeremy and stroked the hair off his forehead. “He’s calmed by someone talking to him.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Savannah asked as she inched into the room.

  “A malarial attack. I hadn’t realized he’d suffer them, even though he was no longer in the Philippines, but the doctor told us that he must not have been completely treated and is having another attack.”

  “The doctor was here?” Savannah asked. “Florence, I don’t mean to offend …”

  “Although you probably will,” Florence said with a wry twist of her lips.

  “But could you afford his care?” Savannah asked with a gentle pat to Florence’s shoulder.

  “Barely. We’re trying to put as much aside for the coming baby.” Florence paused, absently patting her belly. At Savannah’s nod of understanding, she said, “And a visit from the doctor ate into our meager resources.”

  “Would you let me help?” Savannah asked.

  “Of course not.” Florence’s weak smile tampered the sting of refusal. “Whatever else we might be, we McLeods are mighty stubborn and self-sufficient.”

  “You’re very proud of being a McLeod,” Savannah said. She sat on the chair next to Florence, her worried gaze darting over Jeremy’s still form.

  “I finally belong, Savannah. I’m wanted. You can’t know what that means.” Florence met Savannah’s gaze. “I’ve been up the past two nights tending to Jeremy. Can you watch him for a while so I can sleep?”

  “Of course,” Savannah whispered.

  “Don’t worry. Just wipe his brow with this.” She held up a dry cloth. “Stroke his brow when he starts to sweat again. If he becomes agitated, talk to him about anything, and he’ll settle. He’s not due for another dose of medicine until Richard returns home, so you won’t have to deal with that onerous duty.”

  “Onerous?”

  “You’ve never seen a man fight you so hard when you want to put a spoon in his mouth,” Florence said with a shake of her head. “I’m not saying I don’t understand, but it makes the caring of him more difficult.”

  “I’m sorry not to spend time with you, Florence. I wanted to talk with you about your wonderful news.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of time for that. The best thing you could do for me is let me sleep.” She squeezed Savannah’s shoulder and rose. A few moments later Savannah heard a door creak shut down the hall.

  Savannah glanced around the sparsely furnished room. Jeremy’s single bed sat across from the doorway. A battered maple table next to the bed had a lamp with a chipped shade; a stack of books were beside the lamp. Chairs she recognized from the dining room had been placed next to his bed due to his illness. At the foot of the bed, a tall chest of drawers stood, with a few bottles on top. A glass and ewer sat on top of the bureau positioned to the right of the door, with a mirror above the pitcher.

  She now sat with a chair between her and Jeremy, and she decided to move to sit next to him. She picked up two of the books. “Tess of the D’Urbervilles.” She shook her head. “No thank you. An Ideal Husband.” She smiled. “Seems a bit risqué to read Oscar Wilde, but why not?”

  Savannah set the Thomas Hardy down and flipped open Wilde’s book. She squirmed around in the hard wooden chair, attempting to find a comfortable position. After a moment of reading to herself, she glanced toward Jeremy. “I feel ridiculous reading aloud to myself, Jeremy. But I will, for your sake.”

  She used the cloth to mop at the small amount of sweat on his face, brow and neck before settling back to read. She read, giggling at times. To entertain herself, she tried to make up different voices for each character but then forgot which voice she’d given to which character.

  “I had not thought to hear your voice, ma’am.”

  Savannah looked up from the book, gasping and dropping it. “Jeremy! You’re awake. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been run through the ringer,” he rasped. “Is there any water?”

  Savannah rose to the bureau and poured a small amount of water from the ewer into a glass. “Here, sit up,” Savannah said. She reached over to help him and found herself perched against the edge of his bed, one arm around his shoulder as she used her upper body to propel him into a sitting position. “Up you go,” she urged.

  “I hate being so weak,” he said through chattering teeth. After slurping a little water, he collapsed again on his side, shaking uncontrollably. “Are there any blankets? I’m so cold.”

  “I thought you’d have a fever,” Savannah said, as she reached out to touch his forehead, finding it burning to the touch.

  “I do, but I wax and wane between very hot and very cold. Right now, I’m cold.” He burrowed into the blanket Savannah placed over him, grasping her hand. “Please stay,” he said.

  “I will,” she said as she squeezed his fingers. “Do you want me to keep reading to you?”

  “I don’t care.” He closed his eyes. “Just keep talking to me. I love your voice,” he whispered as his body shook uncontrollably.

  Savannah reached a hand out and stroked his shoulder, tucking the blankets around him. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my life before I married Jonas. About the girl I was before my grandparents took a great notice in me. Clarissa and I were always in trouble. Lucas and Colin too, although they always made it seem like Clarissa and I were the ones who started everything. Patrick, Clarissa’s eldest brother, disapproved of everything and never took part in any of our antics.”

  Savannah chuckled before sighing. “One time I remember our old maid, Bridget, took in a stray cat. He was a feisty, mean thing, had a scar down the left side of his face from his eye to his cheek. It looked like it should be a friendly tabby, but it was vicious. The only person it had a soft spot for was the cook, because she fed him bowls of milk. Mother would have had a fit if she’d known how much milk went to that animal.

  “One day it started yowling and hissing, cornering Clarissa and me as it swatted at us. We were freed only when Lucas took a broom to it. The four of us decided we were going to get that cat back. It had a favorite spot it liked to sun itself. Clarissa and I bought sturdy green ribbons and tied bells to the end of each. We then tied the ribbons to two long strings and gave them to Lucas and Colin.

  “Clarissa and I stood in a corner of the kitchen, on the lookout for the maid and the cook. Lucas and Colin, who wore really long thick gloves borrowed from
Clarissa and me”—Savannah chuckled as she acted out putting on long gloves—“crept toward the slumbering beast. They managed to attach one of the strings and tie it with a sturdy knot, although the second string brushed the cat’s face and woke it up.”

  Savannah giggled as she covered her mouth with glee for a moment. “I’ve never seen two people jump so high so fast! They yowled as loud as the cat and scurried over to us. The cat rose and shook itself. As it did, the bells rang and scared it silly. It started to run, thinking it could escape the noise. However, the more it moved, the more of a racket it created. Soon it was running through the house, careening into the furniture and knocking over vases!”

  Savannah brushed at her eyes as she laughed. “Oh, I’d never seen Mother so angry. Or Father try so hard not to join in the hilarity. I can still see that cat scurrying around a corner, trying to escape the noise.”

  She sighed again, reaching out a hand to wipe at Jeremy’s forehead. “The cat received an extra portion of milk that night, so I shouldn’t feel too sorry for it.”

  After a few moments of silence, Savannah felt Jeremy’s forehead. “Oh, no. You’re even hotter than before.” She rose, finding another clean cloth on the bureau. As she turned toward the bed, she paused at the sight of Richard.

  “You’re the last person I would have expected to find in my brother’s sickroom,” Richard said as he entered. “That was a fine story, Mrs. Montgomery. Seems you’re more like Clarissa and Colin than I’d given you credit for.”

  “I’ll take that as the compliment it was intended to be,” Savannah said, blushing. “I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome.” She glanced at Jeremy, shivering on the bed. “He will recover, won’t he?”

  “He always has,” Richard said. He reached out his hand for the cloth. “Thank you for visiting today and giving Florence a chance to rest. She’s been run off her feet caring for Jeremy.” He tossed the cloth from one hand to the other, his gaze flickering between Jeremy and Savannah. “Will you come back tomorrow? It would mean a great deal to know that Florence will have more rest tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be able to work without worrying so much about her.”