Resilient Love: Banished Saga, Book 7

by Ramona Flightner

  Chapter 21

  Zylphia sat on the chaise longue in Sophie’s guest bedroom, her gaze distant as she faced the rear garden. Her black hair was in disarray as it tumbled down her shoulders and back, and she’d failed to dress for the day. A nearby church tower tolled the hour of three o’clock in the afternoon, and she sighed as she rolled to her side and stared at the furniture in the room. A loud knock interrupted her silent musings, but she refrained from speaking. When the door burst open to an irritated Sophronia, marching forward in indignant glory, Zylphia closed her eyes and curled into herself.

  “Enough!” Sophie barked as she thunked her cane onto the plush carpet. She frowned as the loud noise failed to rouse a response from Zylphia. She pointed for a maid to place a chair in front of the chaise longue and then waved her away. After waiting to hear the door close behind the maid, Sophie focused on Zylphia. “This is not who you are, my girl. What happened to your determination? Your dedication? Your fire?”

  She ran a shaking hand over Zylphia’s head and cheek, but Zylphia refused to speak. “If you don’t speak with me and explain why you came here seeking refuge rather than with your parents, I will seek out your mother.” The implied promise in her words had Zylphia’s gaze focusing and meeting Sophie’s.

  “You wouldn’t,” Zylphia whispered.

  “Of course I would. I’ve never understood why you came to me rather than returning to your parents’ home. They’d love and care for you during this difficult time. I imagine it would be a strain on your father as he has become quite close to your husband since your marriage. However, you can’t doubt that their first loyalty is to you.” She watched Zylphia with blatant curiosity and confusion as she seemed to shrink into herself on the chaise.

  “Come. Sit up. Brush your hair. I’ve found when we perform the daily rituals of life, they can help us continue on when we believe we are incapable.” She gave Zylphia a gentle tug but was unable to budge her.

  “You don’t understand,” Zylphia whispered. “Your husband died. You knew he loved you when he died.” Sophie nodded as Zylphia met her gaze with an inquisitive one. “My husband lives, and I know he despises me.”

  “Theodore Goff is no simpleton. He does not despise you for your dedication to the cause,” Sophie barked.

  Zylphia grasped Sophie’s hand, its skin thinner and bones more fragile with each passing day. “I wish I had your faith. He knows what I did.” Tears leaked out, unbidden. “I’ve been so angry with him. I thought I hated him. Why wouldn’t he do what I wanted?” She rubbed her face into the small pillow on the chaise. “I realize how childish that was now.”

  Sophie’s aquamarine eyes were clouded with worry as she watched Zylphia. “What happened in Washington? I visited Teddy soon after his return, and he had little inclination to talk about you and how you were.”

  “Ever since I met my father and have come to accept that he loves me, I’ve lived a charmed life. I know that Teddy and I were separated during the first part of the war, but that turned out well. We married. We were happy. In many ways I remained a spoiled child, even though I believed I’d matured. When Teddy refused to bend to my wishes about his citizenship, I wanted to punish him. Show him I was my own person and wouldn’t bend to his will.”

  Sophie paled at Zee’s words. “I can understand desiring to remain your own person, even though married. I hope you didn’t do anything foolhardy.”

  “Oh, Sophie. I was determined to protest. To show that women deserve the right to vote. At any expense.” Tears coursed down her cheeks.

  “Teddy knew you believed in this cause when you married. He wouldn’t be this angry simply because you protested and were sent to jail,” Sophie said, her scratchy voice expressing her confusion.

  Zylphia pushed herself up to a sitting position. Her cheeks were splotchy and her nose red. She accepted the handkerchief Sophie handed her and rubbed at her nose. “I was pregnant, Sophie. I should never have protested that last time. I knew that we’d be arrested, but I never thought it would be as bad as it was.”

  “Oh, God,” Sophie breathed. “And your husband knows this?” At Zylphia’s guilty nod, Sophie leaned back in her chair, dropping Zylphia’s hand. “How could you, Zee?”

  “I … I never thought we’d be there so long. That there’d be a hunger strike. That that would be enough to …” she whispered.

  “Surely, once you told them about your pregnancy, their treatment toward you changed.”

  Zylphia shook her head. “I never told a soul.” She held a hand to her belly and hung her head as tears poured out.

  “Why in God’s name did you participate in the hunger strike if you refused to tell the truth about your condition?” Sophronia shook her head in consternation.

  “I led the women who picketed. I couldn’t be seen eating. To break morale.”

  “Your pride cost you your child,” Sophronia snapped, her eyes sparkling with anger. “And perhaps your marriage.”

  “Until I lost the baby when I arrived at Cameron House, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted it.” She swallowed her sobs and sniffled, looking toward Sophie who sat as though dumbstruck. “It’s why they kept Teddy away from me for a few days after I arrived there.”

  “I pride myself on not being easily shocked. But this is … this is …” Sophronia shook her head as she looked at Zylphia. “You’ve done this to yourself, Zee. I thought you more astute than that.”

  Zylphia flinched at the disappointment in Sophie’s gaze and voice. “I’m mad at myself too.” She rubbed at her face. “I know I hurt Teddy. Far worse than he ever hurt me. I don’t know how to make it up to him.”

  Sophie shook her head, her gaze distant. “For once I have no words of wisdom, Zee. You must discover your own way back to your husband. I pray that you are able to.” She turned her head to focus on Zylphia. “However, I insist that you speak with your parents. If you wish to stay here, I have no objections. The one requirement for you to remain here is that you explain to your parents all that has transpired.”

  The following afternoon Delia sat with stiff formality in Sophronia’s front sitting room with her hands clenched in her lap. She wore a rich burgundy gown that enhanced her aging beauty. Aidan stood, staring out the front windows, absently watching the pedestrians as they made their way through the Boston Common. “I told you there was a rift between Teddy and Zee,” Delia muttered.

  “I agreed with you. However, she’s married now, Delia. She must find a solution to her problems. We must allow them that freedom, without our interference. They won’t thank us for butting in when they must work through their growing pains on their own.” He looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched as he watched his wife fidget on the settee.

  The pale blue-gray of the wallpaper clashed with the aquamarine satin coverings on the furniture while the paintings on the wall were bold proclamations rather than soothing components to the room’s decor.

  “This is a remarkably ugly room,” Delia said, earning a startled chuckle from her husband. When he sat next to her, she eased into his side.

  “It is,” Aidan said as he took her hand and kissed it. He looked to the door as it opened, his gaze friendly and inquisitive. He kept a firm grip on Delia’s hand that prevented her from rising and rushing to their daughter as she entered, Sophie on her heels. When the door shut, and they were ensured privacy, Aidan’s smile of encouragement seemed to bolster Zylphia. “Hello, Zee. We’ve been worried about you.”

  Her long black hair was tamed in a heavy braid that fell more than halfway down her back. The simple navy dress she wore enhanced the deep blue of her eyes and the paleness of her skin. She nodded to her parents and sat on one of the chairs opposite them. “I’m sorry if I’ve worried you.”

  Delia frowned. “Of course we’ve been worried. Rumors about your fight with Teddy and your flight from your home have spread like the plague through Boston. Why didn’t you come to us?” Delia bit her lip at any further recriminations as Aidan m
urmured, “Hush,” and squeezed her hand.

  “I came to Sophie’s because I knew she’d take me in, and I didn’t want to cause problems between you and Teddy,” Zylphia said, her gaze lowered.

  Aidan released his wife’s hand and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Zee, look at me.” After a few moments, she finally raised her eyes and met her father’s gaze. “I value Teddy’s brilliance in business. I consider him a trusted friend. And, yes, I love him as a son. But you are my daughter. You are my first priority. It saddens me how you still don’t accept that.”

  She bit her lip and gripped her hands together on her lap. “I didn’t want you to feel ashamed of me and to have to hide that shame,” she whispered.

  Delia’s concern evaporated, transforming into anger. “How dare you condemn your father and me before even speaking with us. Do you know what it’s been like, knowing you’ve chosen sanctuary at Sophie’s house rather than turning to your own parents? Do you know what it’s like to act as though your decision doesn’t bother us when neighbors and acquaintances make cutting remarks?”

  “Mother, I’m sorry,” Zylphia whispered. She covered her face a minute, then took a long breath and looked from her father to her mother and back again. “Will you please listen without interrupting?” When they nodded, she haltingly told her story as she’d told Sophie the previous day. “I’m ashamed, angry, mournful, confused,” she whispered as she finished speaking. She met her father’s tormented gaze.

  “Did you believe we’d condemn you for your actions?” he asked. His blue eyes shone with regret and impotent fury. At Zylphia’s nod, he muttered a curse. “Dammit, Zee, we all make mistakes. Some we realize are inconsequential. Others are life-altering.”

  He rose and pulled an ottoman to perch on as he grasped his daughter’s hands. “You are my daughter. You are impetuous, passionate and loving. You have a strong sense of righteous indignation that, at times, can get the better of you, as I fear it did this time.” He raised one hand to swipe at her tears. “You’ve more than paid the price for your folly.”

  “I want … I want …” she stammered as the words clogged in her throat. She collapsed forward into her father’s strong embrace. “I feared you’d tolerate me at best because I’m your daughter.”

  At her whispered admission, Aidan groaned and kissed her head. “Never, Zee. I love you. Your mother loves you. When you doubt our love …” He sighed into her hair. “I can’t describe to you the pain.”

  After many moments Zylphia pushed away and met her mother’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she whispered.

  Delia shook her head as tears silently coursed down her cheeks. “I hate all that you suffered … without my—without our—support,” she stuttered out. “You must know … we would have comforted you.”

  Sophie cleared her throat. “As we all know, fear makes us irrational. Besides, when we’ve lost the support of one we desperately love, it makes us doubt those we also believed loved us unconditionally.”

  Aidan’s jaw clenched as he released Zylphia to settle into her chair as he remained on the ottoman. “I don’t know what this will mean for my business venture with Teddy.”

  Zylphia’s eyes widened with alarm. “Oh, please, Father, don’t alter how you treat Teddy. This isn’t his fault. It’s all mine.” She sniffled and fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief.

  “I would agree that a large portion of this debacle is due to your prideful nature. However, he has some responsibility in this matter,” Sophie said when Delia remained silent.

  Delia studied her daughter for a long moment, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap before she rose and departed the room.

  Zylphia’s head turned, tracking her mother’s movements.

  “Give her time, Zee,” Aidan murmured. “Give us all time.” He kissed her on her forehead and followed his wife from the room.

  The sound of a letter tapping on a table was the only indication the room was occupied. Aidan stilled as he glanced around the room, his gaze settling on his son-in-law sprawled in a comfortable chair in front of a roaring fire. He frowned at the letter in Teddy’s hand and his contemplative expression.

  “What has you so pensive?” Aidan asked, breaking the quiet spell of the late afternoon. Snow spit outside and anyone with sense was as Teddy, ensconced in front of a fire and escaping the elements.

  Teddy glanced at his father-in-law a moment before waving him to a chair next to him in front of the fire. “I received a letter from an old friend today,” Teddy said.

  Aidan sighed as he settled into the worn leather and stretched his legs in front of him. “Dare I hope it was from an old school chum?” His gaze sharpened at Teddy’s subtle shake of his head. “I hope it has little to do with that nurse.”

  Teddy’s gaze remained unfocused as he stared into the fire. He shrugged before stilling the tapping of the letter. “I haven’t had much energy to put into the Equalizer project.”

  Aidan sighed as he rested his head against the back of his chair. “I didn’t come here to talk about some damn project, Teddy.” He waited until Teddy nodded. “I saw Zee today.” When Teddy froze, he continued. “She looked like hell.”

  A long silence stretched between them, with the fire crackling and a tree branch scratching against the office window with each gust of wind. As it became apparent that Teddy refused to speak, Aidan made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “This is what comes of a battle of wills. No one wins, and everyone loses.”

  “Aidan, I respect you as my business partner. I admire you for the role you play in your family. I’m thankful for your acceptance as your son-in-law.” Teddy’s silver eyes shone with anguish and a pent-up rage. “But I refuse to be talked round by some nonsensical twaddle about battle of wills. You and I both know Zee was fully aware of what she was doing. Very little consideration was given to our child. Her only thought was for herself, with a sprinkling of malice at the thought of defying me.”

  Aidan sat upright, his upper body braced on his knees as he breathed heavily. His nostrils flared with agitation as he glared at his son-in-law. “I may concede that point. However, you must acknowledge that you pushed her to act in such a manner.” His anger faded at the desolation in Teddy’s gaze. “It always takes two, Teddy, in an argument.”

  “I thought I could never feel more agony than what I suffered in the war,” he whispered. “These past days have shown me how wrong I was.”

  They sat in silence a few moments as they contemplated the fire. “What will you do?” Aidan asked.

  Teddy sighed as he tapped the letter again. “I’m uncertain. She’s been at Sophie’s for a little over a week. I never thought she’d stay away so long.”

  Aidan stretched his long legs in front of him and crossed his hands over his belly. “She’s not the same person as before she went into the workhouse, Teddy. Anyone who truly looks at her can see that.” Aidan turned to look at Teddy. “Just as I can see you aren’t the same.”

  Teddy nodded but refused to meet his father-in-law’s gaze. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.”

  “I’d hardly call you fine when you turned Zylphia’s painting into kindling,” Aidan murmured. “Have you told her that yet?” At Teddy’s shrug, he grabbed the letter from Teddy to garner all his attention. “You’re angry. Disappointed. Disillusioned.”

  He looked into his son-in-law’s tormented eyes. “We all are. Her mother became so upset at today’s visit that she stormed out of the room on her.” Aidan’s gaze eased when a flash of concern crossed Teddy’s face before he could conceal it. “Nothing will change the past. All you must do is decide how you want the future to unfold.”

  Parthena sat in her parlor and played a mournful piece of music. The solemn music eased her tension but failed to lighten her mood. Hearing the chuckle from the doorway, she stilled her hands and glared at the intruder.

  “I had hoped we’d moved past the mournful stage,” Morgan teased. When h
is joke failed to brighten his wife, he frowned. “Hennie, what’s the matter?” He shut the door behind him and strode to her. He pulled over the ottoman and sat on it, facing her as she spun on the piano bench.

  She shook her head. “I’m being ridiculous. I received a letter from Viv today. I won’t see her until after she’s had the baby. Maybe not for another year or two.” She swiped at her cheek. “I can’t imagine not seeing her for so long. That she’ll become a mother without anyone in her family there to support her.”

  “Oh, my love,” Morgan soothed as he pulled her into his arms. “When is the baby to arrive?”

  “Sometime in late January or early February,” Parthena whispered into his collar. “I’m sorry. I should have expected a separation like this when she left two years ago. I just never imagined … never imagined she wouldn’t come back.” Her voice broke on the word back. She relaxed as Morgan held her tighter.

  “Do you want to go to her?” he asked, his voice tight.

  She pushed away so as to meet his gaze. She searched his face for clues to how he felt but frowned with consternation at her inability to read him. “Please, don’t freeze,” she implored as she ran a hand down his cheek. When she felt him relax slightly, she nodded. “Yes, I’d like to go to her.” She watched as he fought panic. She gripped his face between her hands and held on to him, refusing to allow him to rise. “I want you with me. I want my husband with me.”

  A startled, delighted smile lit his face. “Truly?” At her nod, he swooped down and kissed her. “I’d be thrilled to travel with my wife, my Hennie, to visit her sister.” He sobered a moment. “My only request is that we stay in a hotel.”