Resilient Love: Banished Saga, Book 7

by Ramona Flightner

  Zylphia’s eyes glazed over as she became lost in her memories. “Nothing worse than they did to anyone else. A few slaps here and there. The horrible cells. And the hunger.” Her voice faded away at the word hunger.

  Parthena cocked her head to one side. “I’d think Teddy would be proud of you for sticking to your convictions.”

  Zylphia let out a stuttering breath. “I was pregnant, P.T. And my foolishness cost us our child.” She met Parthena’s horrified gaze. “And, yes, the doctor told Teddy when he met him in a bar in Washington.”

  “Oh my,” Parthena breathed. “That’s why Teddy wasn’t allowed to see you at Cameron House. None of that meaningless blather about concern with reporters.” At Zylphia’s guilty nod, Parthena paled. “He wasn’t to know.”

  “I don’t know what he’s most upset about. The fact I endangered our baby and lost it. Or the fact I didn’t tell him about it.”

  “Oh, Lord.” Parthena’s eyes rounded with shock as she stared at her friend. “I can’t imagine any man getting past such a … a …”

  “Betrayal,” Zylphia breathed. “He even doubted it was his baby.” She laughed before covering her face as it turned into a sob. “Can you imagine? Things have become that dreadful between us that he would consider I’d be unfaithful.”

  Parthena nodded and shrugged. “You’ve been unforgiving in your anger toward him, Zee. I can see why he’d believe you’d do something rash. And then, when you didn’t tell him, I could see why he’d have his suspicions. Men’s minds don’t work like ours.” She picked up her teacup for a sip. “Besides, there’ve been plenty of rumors about you and Octavius.”

  Zylphia rested against the back of the settee, gripping a pillow to her chest, her teacup long forgotten on the table. “It’s so ironic to me that I used to believe the worst that could befall me was Teddy refusing to change his citizenship. Now I fear he dreams of a divorce.”

  Parthena choked on her tea and coughed for a few moments. “You can’t be serious,” she said between choking fits. “He loves you, Zee. Anyone can see that.”

  Tears tracked down her cheeks. “He doesn’t trust me. He doubts he ever will again. And he says he’ll never fully forgive me.” She closed her eyes in defeat. “I told him that I’d find a way to earn his trust and to prove myself worthy of his trust again, but I don’t know how.”

  Parthena stroked her friend’s forehead. “It never works, you know. Trying to change yourself to earn someone’s regard. You both end up miserable.” She shared a long, commiserating glance with Zylphia. “You must recognize what you did caused harm not only to yourself but to all those who love you and trust you. Especially Teddy. And then you must show him that you are sorry.” Parthena shook her head in frustration. “But you can’t change who you are, Zee. You can’t give up your struggle for the vote or your painting or any of it. It all makes you who you are. You’d be miserable, and so would he.”

  Zylphia closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been more miserable than I am now. I think I’d do about anything to ensure he loves me.”

  Rowena wandered the sparsely lit living room near the front door, her head tilted to one side as she listened to the deep voice of the butler speaking with Teddy in his office. This room had a stilted, stifled sense to it, as though decorated and forgotten. No evidence of a life lived here was found, and she swiped a finger over a tabletop, sniffing with displeasure when she discovered a thin film of dust. She spun to face Teddy as his footsteps sounded in the hallway.

  “Hello, Teddy.” Her smile was hesitant as she catalogued his disheveled appearance and confused expression. “I never meant to disturb you.”

  “It’s never any trouble to see you,” he said with his veneer of British charm. He waited for her to sit on a chair before sitting across from her. He grimaced. “I always forget how uncomfortable this room is.”

  “Why don’t you have it refurbished?” She ran a hand over the red silk fabric of the chair.

  “Not worth the bother.” He shrugged before focusing on her, his eyes a cold steel. “I imagine you’re here to see Zee.” At her shrug of agreement, he sighed. “You should go to Sophie’s. Last I knew, that’s where she was.”

  Rowena paled, opening and closing her mouth a few times before finding her voice. “Why would she be there, rather than at home with you?”

  “That’s for Zee to discuss with you, if she chooses to do so.” He rose, but, rather than retreating to his office, he ambled to the fireplace and warmed his hands. “Our differences have only seemed to multiply since the last time you and I spoke.”

  Rowena gripped his hand and tugged him to face her, blushing when he watched her curiously. “Why would you want to be separated from her now when all you wanted when we were in Washington was to free her and reunite with her?”

  Teddy shook his head. “Some betrayals are impossible to overcome.”

  Rowena paled and then firmed her lips, her brandy-colored eyes snapping with indignation. “You are delusional if you believe Zee has played you false. I lived with her. I know she has remained true to you!”

  Teddy sighed and retook his seat. “Rowena, it’s the sorry fact that, unless you are part of the marriage, you will never fully know or understands what transpires.”

  Rowena growled with frustration. “Of course I know that. And I don’t appreciate your implication that, since I’m not married, I couldn’t possibly understand.” She gripped her hands together on her lap. “Whatever she’s done, you have to know she loves you.”

  Teddy watched Rowena a moment with an expression of curious stupefaction. “Why is it that everyone believes love will be enough?”

  Rowena frowned. “Because it is. It must be.”

  “No, Rowena. Other things are as important. Trust. Loyalty. Honor.” He silenced her with a severe look.

  After a moment Rowena huffed out a breath and looked around her. “So Zee is like this room then?” At Teddy’s confused stare, she glared at him. “Not worth the bother?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Why isn’t it fair? You seem as equally disinclined to alter the furnishings as you are to improve the discord in your relationship with your wife. How is that assessment not fair?”

  Teddy rose and slammed his hand on the mantel. “Speak with Zee. Learn what happened. What she did and what she failed to do. And then presume to accuse me of not bothering.” His low voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I have no patience for lectures I am not due, Rowena.” He spun and stormed from the room.

  Rowena sat for a moment in stunned silence before gathering her outer garments to journey to Sophronia’s house.

  Chapter 24

  Teddy steepled his fingers as he watched his cousin of sorts, Richard McLeod, sitting across from him. “Are you here for investment advice? I thought your uncle handled that sort of thing for you.”

  “He does, but he thought I could benefit from another viewpoint. He worries that he is too conservative with his advice as he ages and thought you should look through his recommendations to ensure I wasn’t missing any potential profits.”

  Teddy laughed as he fingered through the meticulous notes his father-in-law had sent with Richard. “If there’s one thing Aidan is, it’s thorough. You won’t miss out on a profit. But you will most likely escape a loss.” He frowned as he concentrated for a few minutes. When he focused again on Richard, he shrugged. “I would consider altering very little. It’s a solid investment plan, especially considering your family situation. I wouldn’t want to be too aggressive and cause hardship for you, Florence or the boys.”

  Richard sighed and relaxed into the chair. “Thanks. I’m nervous about ensuring that they want for nothing.”

  Teddy titled his head as he closed the file and stared at Richard. “Is anything amiss?” At Richard’s prolonged silence, he murmured, “Are you ill?”

  Richard flushed. “I know you’ll think me crazy. But my father died around this age. His fath
er didn’t live to be much older. I worry I’ll die soon, and I want to leave them plenty.”

  Teddy studied him. “Aidan’s much older.”

  “So Flo tells me often.” Richard ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t shake the feeling something bad is coming. That soon we’ll be surrounded by loss.”

  Teddy sighed, settling back into his chair with a creaking sound. “We are at war. You’ll know men who are going to fight. You’ll lose friends.” His voice was matter-of-fact, with no sorrow in it.

  Richard nodded, kicking out his long legs to one side of the desk. “I tell myself that’s it, but it doesn’t take away the worry.”

  “Be thankful you’re too old for the draft.” At Teddy’s murmured words, Richard focused on him absently rubbing the missing stubs of his fingers.

  “Yet.”

  Teddy’s gaze zeroed in on Richard’s whispered word.

  Richard said, “You know as well as I do that, if the war continues, they’ll have to expand the draft, and they won’t take younger men. They’ll take older men.”

  Teddy blinked his agreement. “We must hope it ends soon. Although, after over three years of insanity, it’s hard to imagine anyone will see sense.” He cleared his throat. “How is Florence?”

  Richard flushed. “We are to have another child.” He frowned when Teddy froze. “I’d hoped those around us could be happy after what we suffered last time.”

  “No, forgive me.” Teddy’s voice emerged choked, and he blinked rapidly. “I … I’m so very happy for you. Perhaps you’ll have a daughter who looks just like Florence.”

  Richard held his hands as in prayer. “I merely want Flo and the baby to be healthy and safe. No matter what.”

  Teddy was silent a long moment. “How …” He broke off and shook his head.

  “How what?”

  He speared Richard with a gaze tormented by grief and disillusionment. “How did you recover from the loss?”

  Richard sighed, his gaze distant a moment, then sharpening on Teddy. “Oh. Is that what happened?” He ran a hand through his ebony hair, only a few strands of gray visible. “There is no blame when something like that happens, Teddy. It’s misfortune or bad luck or whatever you want to call it.”

  “What if something she did caused it to happen?”

  Richard shook his head. “No, that’s not Zee. She’d never do that. You might believe that now to help you with the pain, but you have to know that’s not true. Refusing to console her and being consoled by her in turn will only multiply your misery.” He sighed. “When something like that happens, you must accept there is no blame.”

  “I’m so angry.” Teddy lowered his head to his hands for a moment. “I no longer know at whom or at what.”

  Richard nodded. “It’s easier to have a target for your anger. For your distress.” He studied Teddy, his misery clearly evident now that he no longer focused on business matters. “Has your anger brought you peace? Has it brought you anything but misery?”

  Teddy huffed out a laugh. “Now you sound like Aidan.” He ran a hand through his hair while surreptitiously swipe at his cheeks.

  “That’s a fine compliment. And I’ve had to listen to plenty of Aidan’s advice. He’s the one who counseled me after the loss of my daughter.” Richard leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “What I would say, Teddy, is that first you must reconcile yourself with the fact that something terrible befell you and Zee. It was out of your control. You both seem to cling to the illusion of control, never more so than in the past year.”

  He met Teddy’s defiant gaze. “Then you must make peace with what happened. With Zee. With yourself.”

  Teddy returned home from his afternoon meeting and sequestered himself in his home office. After pouring a glass of whiskey, he sat in front of his fire, his feet stretched toward it to warm them. He attempted to take a sip from his glass, but his hands shook, and he set aside the glass rather than spill the amber liquid.

  A stuttering sigh escaped as he ran a hand over his face. Unable to think about anything except what had been said during his recent meeting with Richard, he brooded as he stared into the hypnotizing flames. The recent conversations with those he trusted also played through his mind.

  He took deep breaths as the anger he had clung to withered into a profound sadness. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he acknowledged all he had lost and all he stood to lose. Unable to prevent it, a sob burst forth at the image of holding his child, the tears wetting his shirtfront. When he emerged from his bout of cathartic grief, he stumbled to his feet, making his way to his desk. He ripped out a piece of paper to write a letter from his heart.

  My Darling Zylphia,

  December 26, 1917

  I’ve spent the last hour at my desk, with pen and paper in front of me, uncertain what to write. Afraid you no longer care to receive a letter from me.

  Do you remember those letters we wrote when I was in England? I’ve kept each one, and they are among my most treasured possessions. For, in them, you professed your love. You declared your loyalty and desire to build a future with me. For those letters alone, and the emotions expressed within, I dared brave the Atlantic, hopeful the American truce with the Germans was more than a publicity ploy. For the dream that our love was stronger than any fear.

  We’ve been married two years, Zee. We missed our last anniversary because you were in jail. For nearly the past entire year, we’ve known only conflict due to our stubborn natures. I want peace, Zee.

  More than anything I want you to return home. I want a home with you. I hate that you are in Boston but not here. I know I asked you to leave. Demanded, really, that you leave. I would have said vile words that I could never have recanted. Now I must repent for my anger that thrust you away from me. However, if you so desire, I want you home. With me.

  I dream of holding you in my arms again. Of the times when words are insufficient to express all we mean to each other. Of hearing you laugh. Of smelling your paints and knowing you’ve had a good day. Of hearing you proclaim your outrage at the latest setback for your cause.

  I miss you. I think I miss you more than when I was in England. For now I know what a harmonious married life with you can be. Living without that has been worse than any wound I’ve ever suffered.

  Your

  Teddy

  Teddy lounged on a sofa in the sitting room of his house. The Christmas tree remained in a corner with none of the candles lit. A few presents were still under the tree, haphazardly wrapped. Two stockings hung from the mantel, backlit by the fire, with wilting sprigs of holly and dusty pinecones on the mantel. He listened as the hall clock ticked, his eyes closed as he waited for midnight to sound before heading to bed. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, muttering, “What a lonely way to ring in the New Year.” When the chimes tolled the hour, he raised a hand to his eyes, swiping at a tear that leaked out.

  “Happy New Year, Teddy.”

  He jerked to a sitting position and faced the person shrouded in darkness, standing at the doorway’s threshold, and he rose. “Zee? Are you really here?” He saw her nod. “When you didn’t respond to my letter, … I thought you didn’t want to return home. That you no longer wanted me.”

  “I just received it tonight. I’ve been at my parents.” She cleared her throat. “Sophie forwarded it to me.”

  He nodded a few times, his gaze raking over her as he discerned her expression, hidden in the shadows. “Come in, Zee. Please.” Unable to mask his disappointment when she refused to take his proffered hand, he closed the door behind her. After draping her coat over a chair, he watched as she sat on the edge of the settee he’d vacated at her arrival.

  “Zee, I know there is much we need to discuss. Much we have yet to fully reconcile.” He sat next to her but refrained from touching her. He felt her tense at his nearness. “May we take tonight and tomorrow to be together again as a couple? To celebrate the New Year?”

  “Waiting to discuss our problems won’t make them
go away.” She studiously stared into the fire, her arms wrapped around her middle.

  “It might help remind us why we are together,” he whispered.

  She looked around the small family parlor, at the unlit tree and the pile of presents she assumed were for her and shook her head. “I have no presents for you,” she whispered and bowed her head. “Some Christmas you must have had.”

  He knelt at her feet, his quick movements startling her. He grasped her knees to still her and to soothe her at the same time. “You’re here now, Zee. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I don’t want anything more.” He watched as she battled tears and blinked rapidly. “I know I’ve caused you pain, and I’m asking for you to give me time to hold you in my arms as I used to. To allow me to comfort you.”

  “Teddy,” Zylphia croaked, as she collapsed forward into his embrace. “I don’t deserve—”

  “Hush,” he commanded, holding her tight.

  A few days later, he stood in the doorway to her studio. He watched as Zylphia stared at a blank canvas, paints drying on the palette with her brush raised. He frowned as she appeared rooted in place but with no drive to create art.

  “Zee?”

  She shrieked at his whispered word and upended the palette onto the pristine canvas. She dropped the paintbrush, and the palette slipped from her hand to land with a thud on the sheet covering the floor. She stared at the mixed-up jumble of colors on the canvas. “That’s one way to get me to start painting,” she whispered.

  After shutting the door behind him, Teddy approached her, perching on the arm of a plush purple velvet chair. “Why can’t you paint?”

  “I can’t see the way I used to.” She waved at the canvas. “I used to stare at it, and an image would appear, and I’d be consumed with creating that image. Now there’s nothing.”

  He reached out for her but dropped his hand as she shivered and moved a step away from him. “It will return to you, Zee.”