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

by Ramona Flightner

  “Come to the funeral with me,” Savannah whispered. “I can’t go to it alone.”

  “Nor will you be,” Jeremy vowed. “I’ll speak to Colin, and I know he’ll be there. Richard can man the forge. I doubt Florence will want to travel such a distance with the baby. I’ll speak with Uncle Aidan, and I know he’ll be there.”

  “What will you do afterward?” Sophronia asked.

  “There’s no reason we can’t travel now,” Savannah whispered. “I want to see Clarissa. Go west. Leave all this behind.”

  Jeremy shared a worried glance with Sophronia. “Her father and brother are improving and are expected out of the hospital in a day or so.”

  “When they are home, we should make plans to leave,” Savannah said.

  Jeremy kissed her head, holding her more tightly against his chest. “Soon, my love, soon.”

  ***

  March 22, 1903

  Dearest Mrs. Maidstone,

  I promised to honor your wish and remain away from the orphanage. I am endeavoring to remain true to that vow. Rather than bring this news in person, I write with the hope the news reaches you in a timely manner. Mrs. Montgomery’s daughter, Hope Woodhouse, died from typhoid yesterday, and her services will be in Lowell at 10:00 a.m. the day after tomorrow. We are meeting at North Station at 7:30 a.m. to travel together to the funeral. I believe it would be acceptable for you to join us.

  Sincerely,

  Aidan McLeod

  ***

  SAVANNAH STOOD TO ONE SIDE of the mourners with Jeremy, Colin, Sophronia and Aidan forming a wall around her. She need but reach out and one of them would seek to offer her comfort. However, she bowed her head as the pastor intoned a prayer, fueling impotent rage rather than imparting solace as intended. She gripped her hands to her sides, holding herself with a rigidity not experienced since living with Jonas, encouraging the deep numbness settling over her.

  Sophronia sniffed, and Aidan placed a consoling hand on Savannah’s shoulder moments before she moved forward to sprinkle dirt on the tiny casket. She bent, lifting the dirt and holding it over the yawning hole in the barely thawed earth, her arm shaking as her fingers refused to release the dirt. After a few moments, she held her gripped fist to her mouth, kissed it and then, with visible effort, released the dirt. As it fell, it created a tinkling sound on the casket.

  “Good-bye, my beloved,” Savannah whispered. She returned to stand near Jeremy, but moved so that no one would touch her. A few moments later came a ponderous “Amen” from the pastor, and the service concluded.

  Savannah moved toward the Woodhouses, dressed in unrelieved black. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” she whispered to first one and then the next, and moved on as the line of mourners grew behind her.

  “Ma’am,” Mr. Woodhouse said, gripping her hand to prevent her from slipping away. “Will you come by the house? You and your friends? There are things we’d like to show you.”

  Savannah nodded and moved away. Jeremy approached her, a quizzical expression marring his features as he studied her. “Savannah? What did he say?” He reached out to stroke her arm, moving his hand up and down, even though she tensed with the contact.

  “He invited all of us to their house. There are things they wanted to show us.”

  “Of course,” Jeremy said. “Aidan had planned a meal at a nearby tavern. We’ll go there first and then to their home.”

  Savannah allowed herself to be led by Jeremy, climbing into the hired carriage to ride the short distance to the tavern. Upon their arrival, Aidan descended, marching into the tavern to speak to the owner as Jeremy and Colin helped Sophronia and Savannah out.

  “As I had requested, there is a private room for us,” Aidan said. “I’ve been told the food here is quite good.” He nodded for them to enter and intercepted Savannah. “My dear niece, for I think of you as my niece, I hope you know you can ask me for any support you might need.”

  “The only thing I need, no money will ever be able to buy,” Savannah snapped as she attempted to march around him. Aidan blocked her movement, remaining in front of her.

  “You’re correct of course. Nothing will ever bring your daughter back, and I’m sorrier than I can say. If there was anything Jeremy or I could do, you know we’d do it.” He tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I know what it is to lose a child, Savannah. I know you’ll never be whole again.”

  Savannah blinked away tears and firmed her jaw. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re far from fine,” Aidan argued. “Find comfort where you can, Savannah. Don’t attempt to recover from such a loss on your own.” He gave her a gentle shake. “I tried, and it only made everything harder. Let that man inside, who loves you past reason, comfort you.”

  “I’ll consider what you have to say,” Savannah murmured as she extricated herself from his grasp and moved into the tavern.

  ***

  SAVANNAH LED THE SMALL GROUP to the front door of the Woodhouses’ brick three-story home on the outskirts of Lowell. A barn and chicken coop stood nearby, with a large oak tree providing shade to the house.

  Before Savannah could knock on the door, it swung open. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” Mrs. Woodhouse said. Grief had etched fine lines around her mouth, and she appeared much older than her thirty-five years.

  Savannah instinctively grasped her hand in a comforting grip. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I should be saying that to you. We did all we could. I promise. There was nothing more to do.”

  Savannah nodded, blinking away fresh tears. She followed Mrs. Woodhouse into their home. They entered a small entryway and then immediately into a front sitting room with light-rose-colored wallpaper. A pair of chairs and settees formed a semicircle facing the fireplace. Formal portraits of dour ancestors hung on the walls while a closed door prevented Savannah from seeing into the rear of the house. Mrs. Woodhouse motioned for everyone to sit while Mr. Woodhouse entered carrying a tea tray.

  “Would you mind coming with me, Mrs. Montgomery?” Mrs. Woodhouse asked when everyone was settled.

  Savannah rose and followed her into the small foyer and up a flight of stairs. They paused outside a closed door.

  “I’ve had the room cleaned, but I haven’t touched any of her things. I wanted you to see them, to have anything of hers you wanted.”

  Savannah took a step back before firming her spine and motioning for Mrs. Woodhouse to open the door. Savannah entered the small corner room. Two windows allowed in bright light. A small bed with a pink blanket and lace ruffles sat against the far wall while a trunk sat under one of the windows. A stuffed doll and lamb lay on top of the bed.

  Savannah crept into the room, listening intently, as though waiting for the echo of her daughter’s laughter. “May I have a few moments?” she said with a quavering voice. Mrs. Woodhouse nodded, leaving Savannah alone.

  Savannah moved to the bed, sitting for a moment as she hugged the stuffed lamb to her. She rose, leaving the lamb, sinking in front of the trunk. Inhaling deeply, she opened it. She closed her eyes as Hope’s scent enveloped her. After a moment, she reached into the trunk, pulling out a christening dress, a tiny pair of baby shoes, a red velvet dress for Christmas. She traced her hand over the clothes, imagining her daughter, smiling and cheerful, wearing them.

  She placed a hand to her mouth, swallowing a sob. She was unable to fight the tears, and they burst forth. She bent forward, keening as she cried, her hands wrapped around her middle.

  “Savannah, darling,” Jeremy whispered as he entered the room. He caressed her head, bending forward to whisper in her ear. “I lied and said I needed to use the bathroom. I really needed to find you. But I’ll leave, if you want me to.”

  “No,” Savannah implored, shaking. “Stay with me.”

  Jeremy wrapped her in his arms, rocking her from side to side. “Cry, my love. Cry. Don’t keep this inside.”

  “These were her clothes, Jeremy. They still smell like her. How can my precious bab
y be dead? I had such little time with her.” Savannah shuddered as her sobs quieted.

  “I don’t know, my love. Very little about this world makes sense.”

  After a few moments he kissed her head and leaned away. “Are you ready to return downstairs?”

  “Yes. They said I could have anything of hers. But this all must be precious to them.” Savannah glanced around the room.

  “What do you want?” He swiped at the tears that continued to fall.

  “I want her stuffed lamb,” Savannah whispered.

  “Then take it. I’m sure they’d want you to have it.” He rose, reaching to help her to her feet. She was unsteady and leaned into him as she regained her balance.

  “Forgive me, Jeremy.” At his confused stare, she said, “Forgive me for my coldness earlier. I couldn’t allow myself to feel. I couldn’t break down at the funeral.”

  “Darling, do you think I didn’t understand?” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I understood your need to act as though nothing was affecting you. You like to believe you can live in a state where you don’t feel pain or emotions. I know it’s false and that it will only be a matter of time until something provokes a deep sentiment in you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “You’ve too much life, too much passion in you, to be restrained behind a wall of ice,” he said as he kissed her on the forehead again.

  Savannah looked around her daughter’s room one last time before moving to the bed to grasp the small stuffed lamb. She clutched it to her breast, before kissing it. “I’ll never stop loving you, my Hope,” she whispered as she placed her hand in Jeremy’s and followed him out of the room.

  CHAPTER 25

  AIDAN ENTERED THE PARKER HOUSE HOTEL, walking toward the front desk area for his key. He smiled to the man at the front desk who handed him an envelope along with his key. Aidan turned, walking toward the elevators and his room, scanning the message as he waited for the elevator.

  “Damn,” he muttered, turning away from the elevators and ascending the stairs one floor. He walked a short distance until he reached a formal sitting room, filled with overstuffed furniture covered in chintz fabric. He glanced around, finding Delia sitting near one of two fireplaces.

  “Mrs. Maidstone,” Aidan said as he approached, bowing before sitting across from her. “I hadn’t expected to see you.”

  “Mr. McLeod,” Delia said as she smiled at a young woman who delivered a fresh pot of tea with one cup. “I’m sorry. I just ordered for myself. Is there anything you’d like?”

  “Coffee,” Aidan said with an absent smile of thanks before the serving girl walked away. He tilted his head to one side as he studied Delia. “Why are you here?”

  “I received your note, but I wasn’t able to leave the orphanage. I’m sorry, Aidan, for Savannah’s loss.”

  “Yes, well, she’s finding it difficult to come to terms with her daughter’s death. She’ll need time to recover.” His jaw tightened. “Although I know she’ll never fully return to who she was before this loss.”

  Delia moved forward in her chair as though she were to grip his hand but then stilled her movement with the arrival of the serving girl. Delia waved her away with a smile and poured tea while Aidan poured himself a cup of strong black coffee.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Delia, but it’s been a hard day. Is there anything you need from me or can it wait until tomorrow?”

  Delia paled as she studied him. “I’d hoped to impart some sort of comfort. I would never mean to distress you.”

  Aidan pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply a few times. “I don’t have it in me to fight, today of all days.” He raised shattered eyes to her. “Please, save whatever it is you had to say to me for another day.”

  She reached forward and clasped his hand. “I wanted to be here for you, as your friend, as I envisioned you battling your own memories. I can only imagine it resurrected memories of your lost daughter.”

  Aidan’s eyes shone with grief before he closed them, leaning his head against the back of his chair. He gripped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Delia. More than anything else, I’ve missed your friendship.”

  “And I yours. I’ve been too much a coward to admit it. However, your absence these past days has forced me to examine my life. Every time there was a knock on my door, I hoped it was you. I hadn’t realized how much your visits had soothed an old ache.” She paused, taking a sip of tea and a fortifying breath. “I love what good I’ve been able to do at the orphanage. The lives I’ve helped.”

  “And yet,” Aidan whispered, still holding her hand.

  “And yet I realized, with your return, I want more. I’ve been too afraid of the changes it would bring to admit it.”

  “Delia, I’m not the same man I was sixteen years ago. I’ve lived through enough loss and disappointment to realize I need to grip my happiness to me, not thrust it away. Give me a chance to prove it to you. It’s all I ask. Another chance.”

  Delia took a deep breath, her cheeks flushed as she hesitated. “Many would call me a fool. I’d have called any friend of mine thus. But I will give you another chance. Because by giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, I’m giving myself the hope for the future I thought lost to me.”

  “And Zylphia?” Aidan asked, unable to hide his eager hopefulness from Delia.

  “She’s sixteen, Aidan. A young woman. I must respect her enough to allow her to decide for herself if she wants to have you as part of her life or not.”

  “You won’t prevent me from attempting to see her? From forming a relationship with her as her father?”

  Delia’s expression softened. “No. I’ve realized, as she’s asked about you these past days, how much she’s yearned for a father but thought it impossible. All I ask is that you decide now to either walk away or to fully commit to her. I couldn’t handle seeing her hurt or disillusioned.”

  “Only time will show you the man I’ve become. Thank you.” Aidan sighed with contentment, leaning his head against his chair once more, holding her hand for a moment before raising it and kissing it. “You’ll come to a dinner held at my nephew’s house?”

  Delia nodded. “Yes. I’d like that very much.”

  ***

  AIDAN WALKED INTO a coffee shop near the orphanage. A thin sheen of steam covered the windows, engendering a sense of intimacy to the room. The rich smells of coffee and anise caused him to pause, his eyes closing momentarily, harkening back to memories of foreign travels when he was a sailor. His shoulders relaxed on the deep exhale, and he approached the table where Zylphia sat. He frowned, noting her stiff shoulders and the tight grip on her purse.

  “Zylphia, thank you for agreeing to meet me.” Aidan pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.

  “I read about the infamous actions of your nephew’s fiancée,” Zylphia said.

  “Forgive me for leaving you and your mother precipitously at dinner. Jeremy and Savannah needed my help.”

  Zylphia gripped her purse tighter. “I understand your desire to help those you are closest to.”

  “Zylphia.” Aidan reached forward, placing his fingers over her fisted hand. “I may have just discovered I have a daughter, but I would come to your aid. If you needed my help, nothing could prevent me from rendering it.”

  Zylphia inhaled a stuttering breath and sniffed. “My mother and I have done well for years without you.”

  Aidan smiled as he watched his daughter, pride shining from his eyes. “You have every right to be wary of me. To worry I’ll fail you or your mother again. Only time, and my constancy, will prove my sincerity.”

  Aidan smiled absently to the waitress, ordering tea and coffee with cakes. He met Zylphia’s frank gaze as she watched him.

  “I would think you’d relish your freedom,” she said with a challenging lift of one eyebrow.

  Aidan laughed, and his blue eyes sparkled with joy as he beheld his obstinate daughter. “You coul
dn’t be more incorrect. I thought I was destined to be alone, until I learned my nephews had survived the fire that had killed my brother and sister-in-law. To find your mother again, and then you …” His blue eyes gleamed. “… it’s wondrous.”

  “Mother informed me that you’d had another child,” Zylphia said, her defiant countenance transforming into one of embarrassed concern as Aidan flinched. “Forgive me. I spoke out of turn.”

  “No, you are correct. And you have the right to know about me. I’d like for you to know me.” Aidan sighed, meeting Zylphia’s gaze with a tormented one. “I had a baby daughter. She was a part of my life for a few short weeks. Precious weeks,” he murmured.

  “You mourn her still.” Zylphia watched him with evident confusion.

  He tilted his head to one side as he studied her. “Yes, as I mourn all those I have loved and lost. As I had mourned your mother, until I walked through that door in the orphanage and found her.”

  “You don’t mourn your daughter more than your wife? Than your brother?”

  “It’s a different pain, although, when the scars are written on your heart, they feel much the same. When I lost my brother, I had years of memories to mourn. When my daughter died, I had years of dreams to mourn. I mourn them still.” He half smiled as he looked at Zylphia. “Meeting you has made me imagine what she would have been like. Feisty. Independent. Loyal.”

  Zylphia blushed but continued to meet his gaze.

  “I understand you were raised in an orphanage, but I know your mother, and I know she would have showered you with love.” Aidan watched her with confusion. “Why do you doubt the ability of others to love you?”

  Zylphia flushed and looked into her teacup. “She did. And I knew she would never give me away, unlike the fate of many of the children in the orphanage. But I understood what my fate would be if something were to happen to her. And it terrified me.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers gripping the teacup. “I didn’t want to be consigned to the life of an orphan. To an adoptive home. I hated my father for dying. For leaving her destitute.” She raised angry eyes to Aidan. “And when I learned of you, I hated you. For abandoning my mother.”