Undaunted Love (PART TWO): Banished Saga, Book 3.5

by Ramona Flightner

  “How soon can Savannah be released?” Colin asked.

  “Hopefully tomorrow.” He shared a sardonic smile with Sophronia. “I remember her saying she did not want to have the details of her abuse made public. I’m afraid she’ll become the most talked-about woman in Boston for a time.”

  ***

  AIDAN KNOCKED on Delia’s door at the orphanage the following afternoon, uncertain of his welcome. At her short, “Enter,” he pushed open the door. “Hello, Delia.”

  She glanced up from reading the headlines proclaiming “Abused Socialite Takes Law into Hands, Skewers Savage Spouse.” She asked Aidan, “Is this true?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is.” He closed the door behind him and, as was becoming customary, sat in the chair in front of her desk. “Savannah suffered greatly at his hands, and he attempted to force her back with him last night. He shot her brother and father in his attempt.”

  “Would he really have shot her too?” Delia continued to look from the lurid paper to Aidan.

  “Colin believes so. He struggled with the man in an attempt to force him to release the gun, but Jonas was determined to hold onto it.”

  Delia held a dazed hand to her head, a relieved smile flitting over her lips before she subdued her emotions. She met Aidan’s curious stare and shrugged.

  Aidan tilted his head to one side, running one of his hands over the fine linen of his black pants as he studied her. “Why would you be pleased that Mr. Montgomery has met his maker?”

  “Did you never wonder why else I might have acted as I did, Aidan? That there might have been something other than anger or resentment motivating my actions toward Savannah?”

  He studied her a long moment, his features hardening while his gaze became implacable. “What did he threaten you with?”

  “Exposing my secret about Zylphia. He had learned, somehow, that there’d never been a Mr. Maidstone and threatened me that, if I ever aided Savannah in any way, I’d ensure not only the loss of my post but that the orphanage would be destroyed. That all the children would be thrown out onto the streets.”

  “You had to have known he was bluffing, Delia,” Aidan said.

  “For the first few days I was so scared I didn’t sleep at night. All I could envision was the scandal and the loss of everything I’ve worked for. Zylphia on the streets. These beautiful children forced to suffer even more.” She closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. “Even though I realized that most of what he’d said was pure bluster, that he would never have the clout to shut the orphanage down, he still retained the ability to destroy my life. Thus, I acted to protect myself.”

  “And your daughter. Our daughter,” he murmured.

  “Yes.” She firmed her lips. “And I’d do it again. There’s little I wouldn’t do to protect Zylphia.”

  “I have no plans to hurt her, Delia.”

  “I know, but, when you left precipitously last night, she was more confused than you can imagine. You didn’t even acknowledge that Jeremy is her cousin.”

  “Delia, forgive me.”

  Delia held up her hand, forestalling any further rush of words on his part. “I understand it was a crisis. I’m sorry for reacting the way I am. I worry for Zylphia. She’s seen the harsh realities of the world too quickly, and I can’t bear for her to be disappointed now.”

  Aidan rose and moved toward her, tracing a hand along her desktop. He stilled as he saw a small pink shell on the corner. He picked it up and traced its fragile shape. “Delia?”

  “That was the last thing you gave me. From the trip before everything changed. You brought me home a set of pearls and that shell. For some reason that shell was always more precious to me.”

  “What happened to the pearls?” Aidan caressed the shell once more before setting it down.

  “I sold them. Years ago when Zylphia became ill, and I needed money to pay for a doctor.”

  “Good.” Aidan reached out long fingers to stroke her cheek. “I wish I’d been there with you, to share the worry. The joy. The indescribable terror as she grew and demanded her independence.”

  “Aidan,” Delia rasped.

  He crouched in front of her, at the same height as she was, while sitting in her chair. He caressed a hand to the nape of her neck, moving his thumb along her cheek. He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers, waiting a moment for her to press him away. Instead, her hand curled into his shoulder, and he deepened the kiss.

  He broke the kiss when they were breathless and nibbled his way up to her ear, whispering, “I’ve missed you, my Delia.” He leaned away, brushing at her hair, smiling to find it still in place.

  “Aidan,” Delia murmured, pushing at him and rising when he leaned away. She walked to the bookshelf, gripping one of the shelves with one hand, the other on her hip.

  “I’d like to have a gathering where you and Zylphia can meet my nephews and their families. I want them to know you even though I understand if it needs to be secret.” He watched her stiffen with his words. “I’d prefer to proclaim my interest in you. Have the world know you are the woman I—”

  “Don’t, Aidan,” Delia pleaded, still facing the bookshelf.

  “Don’t speak the truth to you? I thought we promised each other honesty. Why won’t you allow me to speak of my feelings?”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I’m almost fifty-five years old. I would think I’d know what I feel by now.” Humor laced his voice.

  “Don’t laugh at me,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Delia, I’m not. Well, I’m laughing at the two of us. For not grasping at our chance at happiness. We shouldn’t squander this opportunity, Delia. It won’t come again.”

  “When are you leaving Boston?” She traced the spine of one of the texts, and Aidan couldn’t make out the name of the book.

  “I’ve no fixed schedule. I have competent people at my offices in San Francisco, and I will continue to rely on them as I remain here.”

  “I’d hate for your business to suffer on my account.”

  He gripped her shoulders and spun her to face him. “My business can go hang, Delia. I care about you. And Zylphia. About my nephews and their families. Everything else is secondary.” He watched her with such intensity shining from his deep blue eyes that she shivered. “I hope someday you’ll come to believe me.”

  Delia remained frozen in place, her face a mask of impassivity. She watched him with eyes dulled from years of unfulfilled hopes, failing to respond to the yearning in his eyes and gentle grip on her arms.

  He backed away a step. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few appointments I need to keep.” His shoulders stiffened when she remained silent as he walked away from her. He paused at the door. “Although I don’t agree with you, Delia, I find I don’t have the heart to continue to deny you what you want. I will no longer call at the orphanage to see you. If you’d like to see me, you know where I’m staying. I will write Zylphia to determine if she is amenable to seeing me again.”

  He paused, waiting for a response, but Delia remained resolutely silent. He exited her office and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment before continuing outside to visit his great-nephew.

  ***

  JEREMY SAT AT THE DESK in Sophronia’s back parlor, attempting to write Gabriel and Clarissa. He’d written no further than Dear Gabe and Clarissa, before his mind began to wander, imagining what could be occurring at the jail. He glanced out the rear window, tapping the tip of the pencil on the sheet of paper as he stared at the bare tree limbs. Images of Savannah behind bars caused his grip on the pencil to tighten to the point of snapping it in half. As he heard a commotion in the hallway, he bolted out of the chair, thrusting open the door to see Savannah headed to her third-story room.

  He followed on her heels, taking the stairs two at a time, and tapped on her door a moment after it closed. He poked his head in to see Savannah leaning against one of the posters of her bed. She wore the rose wool dress she’d donned
for her birthday celebration, splatters of dried blood marring the fine fabric.

  “Darling,” he whispered, entering the room and taking her in his arms.

  She stiffened a moment before relaxing, burying her head in the crook of his neck. A moment later, a sob escaped as he pulled her close. He led her to the chaise longue, sitting and tugging her onto his lap. The door opened, and Jeremy shook his head at her maid, who discreetly backed away, closing the door behind her.

  After many minutes, when her crying abated, Jeremy whispered, “Shh … love, it’s all right. You’re fine. You’re safe.” He leaned away, frowning as he again saw her soiled dress. “Let’s get you out of this, darling.” He helped her to stand.

  He turned her, deftly unbuttoning her dress until it billowed around her waist. He shucked it down her legs along with her petticoats, lifted off her ruined corset cover and then began work on her corset ties, easing that away, all without comment from her. “Savannah?” he turned her to face him, seeing a distant, glazed look in her eyes. The skin on the upper part of her bosom was splotched with blood, while her previously pristine chemise was rust colored.

  He moved away from her, flinching as he heard a whimper escape her lips, and searched for a nightgown and robe. He poured water into the nearby bowl, dipping the edge of a small towel into it and returned to her. “Here, love, let’s get you cleaned up.” He swiped away the blood on her skin and eased away her chemise. When she made no move to cover herself or to reach for the cloth, he gave her belly and arms a quick sponge bath.

  “Raise your arms, my sweet Savannah,” he murmured as he lifted the nightgown over her head and let it fall to her feet. He eased on her robe and returned her to the chaise longue.

  “Talk to me, Savannah,” he urged, hugging her close as he felt tears wet his shirt. He ran his big hands over her back and down her arms in an attempt to impart comfort.

  “I can’t believe you’d want to be near me. When you didn’t come to the jail, I thought …”

  He pushed her back, brushing tendrils of hair and tears off her cheeks. “You thought I no longer wanted you? Savannah, I couldn’t be more proud of you for defending yourself and your family last night. And I couldn’t be more devastated that you were forced to do what you did. The thought that such violence touched you, again, is almost more than I can bear.” He kissed her once, softly.

  “I was forbidden to go to the jail. By everyone. They feared I would taint the judge’s good opinion of a woman defending herself, if they saw her lover waiting in the wings.” He met her eyes with a reverent solemnity. “Never doubt my desire to be there for you. To stand proudly by your side.”

  She collapsed forward onto his chest, a sigh escaping her. “Do you have any idea the number of newspapermen who were there? The number waiting outside Sophie’s?”

  “Yes. It’s why I didn’t leave last night. I slept in the back parlor, away from any prying eyes.”

  “Did anyone see you come in?”

  “I doubt it. When we arrived, news of Jonas’s death hadn’t spread, nor that of your arrest. By the time the lawyer had arrived and we’d formulated a plan, a mob of reporters huddled outside Sophronia’s. Thankfully Colin had the sense to look outside from her upstairs window before we attempted to depart. Uncle, Colin and the lawyer left, but I remained here, hidden away.”

  “Why?”

  “If I’d left, I didn’t know when I would have been able to see you again. At least not without engendering speculation and gossip. I wanted to spare you that, if I could.”

  “They’ll speculate why you’re staying away, now that they haven’t seen you,” Savannah said. “They’ll do anything they can to twist the story to their liking, to garner more readers.”

  “I’m afraid they won’t have to do much to embellish the stories to induce an increase in readership.” He kissed her head to take away the sting of truth from his words.

  “Jeremy, do you have any news about Lucas or my father?” Savannah’s fingers clasped his arms to the point of bruising.

  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “By all appearances, your father’s wound was the least severe. Went through the upper part of his shoulder and out the other side. He lost quite a bit of blood, but he’s recovering. They’re hopeful, if he doesn’t become infected, to have him home in a matter of days.”

  “And Lucas?”

  “He’s fighting for his life, love,” Jeremy whispered. “His wound is already infected, as it was in his belly. They’re doing all they can.”

  “He can’t die. He can’t! Not because of me.” Savannah stared unseeingly, with no tears falling.

  “No matter what happens, it will never be because of you. Jonas caused this tragedy. From the very moment he mistreated you the first time, he’s to blame. Not you.” He tilted her head back and forced her to meet his implacable gaze, waiting until she nodded her agreement.

  “Thank you, Jeremy.” She sighed, snuggling into his arms. “I thought I wanted to be alone, when what I really needed was the comfort of my best friend.”

  His grip on her tightened, and he continued to stroke a hand down her back. He held her in companionable silence as the afternoon light faded.

  “What are we going to do, Jeremy?” Savannah asked, nearly an hour later.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, kissing her head.

  “I know I agreed to move in with you into a place in the West End.” She stroked his arm as he tensed underneath her. “I know we continue in our attempt to convince Hope’s foster parents to move here so that we can all raise her together. But now that all this has happened, I don’t know as I can live here with the notoriety of being the woman who killed her husband. Of having everyone whisper about me as I walk past.”

  Jeremy scooted so that they lay side by side on the chaise, facing each other. He traced a hand down her face. “Wherever you go, for as long as you live, there will be someone who whispers that behind you as you walk by. Even though you acted in self-defense and will not be charged, you won’t escape the murmurs, my love. You must learn to accept what happened and take pride in the fact you didn’t continue to be his victim.”

  “My mother didn’t do a thing to help. Not while Jonas was acting out. Not when my father and Lucas lay bleeding on the floor. She just sat there.” Her jaw firmed as she envisioned the scene. “And did nothing.”

  “Not everyone is strong enough to act when it is a crisis. Don’t judge her too harshly.”

  “I couldn’t judge her any more harshly than I already do for allowing that monster into our family. For encouraging me to marry him. For—”

  “Hush, love. Such anger will only destroy whatever hope you have for a future happiness. And you do have that.”

  “I want to be brave like Clarissa,” Savannah whispered.

  “What makes you think you aren’t?” He kissed her nose. “She stood up to Cameron, just like you confronted Jonas. She built a life with the man she loved, as I hope to build one with you. I can’t see much difference between the two of you.”

  “Clarissa and I had a dream of raising our daughters together. So that they’d be close, like we were.”

  “What if she has a son?”

  Savannah giggled. “We didn’t plan on that.” She sobered. “I’ve needed to live here with Sophronia. To find my strength again. And Aunt Betsy’s support has been more than I could have hoped for. But I want to live near Clarissa. I realized that when she visited this fall.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything to me about how you felt?”

  “I’m not accustomed to asking for what I want and need.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I’m telling you now. I will miss Lucas and my father. I know I’ll have days where I long for Sophronia’s friendship and Aunt Betsy’s support. But I want to travel to Montana, to see the life Clarissa is living. Determine if that is a life I’d like to lead.”

  He watched her for a moment, stupefied. “Savannah, are you sure you aren’t simply
trying to outrun your demons? Your memories of Jonas? For I can promise you, you can never run far enough or fast enough to escape them. They’ll be with you, always.”

  She blinked tears and snuggled her head on his chest. “I see.”

  He squirmed around until she was forced to meet his concerned gaze. “I don’t think you do. I will travel with you, darling, wherever it is you want to go. I will defend you against any and all gossip. I will never cease loving you.”

  “Trust me to know what I want, what I need,” she whispered. “It may only be for a short time, but I need to leave all that is familiar to me. I have a yearning in me to … to …”

  “To explore and not be confined by the limitations of your birth,” Jeremy murmured.

  “Exactly.” She smiled tremulously, tracing the side of his face and raking her fingers through the soft pelt of his beard. “I’ve lived my life to fulfill the expectations of others. Now I want to fulfill my own.”

  “What about Hope?” he whispered.

  She frowned. “Do you think the Woodhouses will want to travel with us?”

  “It’s a bit different deciding to move from Lowell to Boston than to move all the way to Montana. And if you determine you don’t want to stay there, that could prove difficult for a man trying to provide for his family.”

  Savannah sighed, rubbing her head against Jeremy’s chest. “I can’t bear the thought of being separated from her again.”

  “Let’s ask them and see what they think,” Jeremy murmured as he nuzzled her forehead. “I can’t believe I might see Gabe again.” He reached toward the other end of the chaise longue and lifted a throw blanket over them, curling into her as she slept.

  CHAPTER 24

  FOUR DAYS AFTER THE ATTACK, Savannah walked up the front steps of Boston City Hospital with Colin. They entered one of the large red-bricked three-storied mansard-roofed buildings facing a courtyard with paths for strolling on warm days. The patients convalesced in this wing, whereas the operating rooms and doctor’s offices were in the other wing. In the center of the courtyard sat an imposing rectangular building with pillars and cupola.