She nodded and sniffled. “I want the same. Not the man who wears the mask, but the man who dances with me and hears a symphony on a quiet night.” She paused. “When will I see you again?”
He leaned forward and kissed her softly and then backed away. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have done that in sight of the house.” He stroked her cheek. “I leave Newport soon, and then I am touring for a few months. Letters will be all we have for now.”
She nodded and bit her lip. “I’ll understand if …”
“Rowena, look at me,” he whispered. “I promise to be honest with you. I promise to not deceive you. I promise to cherish what is growing between us.” He took a deep breath. “I’m old enough, and jaded enough, to know these sorts of feelings are not common. I will not risk them for a meaningless flirtation.” He paused. “I will need you to ignore the incessant drivel written about me in the papers. They love to print half-truths to scintillate their readership.”
She nodded. “I will believe you before any gossip article.” She glanced toward the house. “I should go in first. I …”
He nodded his understanding. “I shall retrieve my jacket, and then I will follow. That should give you plenty of time to enter alone. There’s every reason to believe I went in the opposite direction as you and that you’ve been strolling the grounds alone.”
Rowena shook her head in frustration. “Except for the fact that Sophie has eyes as sharp as an eagle.” She squeezed his hand and walked up the long lawn toward the mansion. She glanced over her shoulder as she was about to step onto the veranda and saw him standing there, watching her, as though mesmerized. She gave him a small wave and then turned into the house.
* * *
Parthena half dozed on Rowena’s bed while Zylphia sprawled on the chaise longue. “How long do you think they’ll remain outside? Should we send Morgan or Teddy out?”
Zylphia snorted. “Are you insane? It’s the first time Rowena has had the chance to know any passion. I’m not about to ruin it for her. With any luck, they’ve found a comfortable cranny under the hedges.”
The door creaked open, and Rowena tiptoed in. Her eyes widened at the presence of her two best friends, and she blushed fiercely as their gazes roved over her disheveled state.
“No cranny,” Zylphia said with a hint of sadness in her voice.
“What are you referring to?” Rowena said as she attempted to infuse her voice with an upper-class hauteur.
Parthena rolled her eyes and pushed herself up to a sitting position while yawning hugely. “That you hadn’t found a comfortable place to explore your passion with Perry.” She smiled as Rowena flushed. “And we were sorry for it.”
“How do you know I was with him?” She frowned when she looked in her dressing glass mirror. Her hair had tumbled from its pins; her dress was wrinkled and had a palm print on her hip, and she had a burn mark on her neck from his whiskers. She slipped pins from her hair, shaking loose her long auburn tresses so that they fell nearly to her bottom.
“You have such beautiful hair,” Zylphia murmured as she rose. “I know you hate the natural curl and thick waves, but you should be thankful for it.” She grabbed the brush out of Rowena’s hand. “Here. Let me act as your maid tonight. We sent them all to bed in case you didn’t want them to be a witness to …” She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “So, what happened?” she asked with a wicked smile as she brushed Rowena’s hair. She stilled her movements when Rowena spun to face her and Parthena.
“He wants to get to know me. To prove to me that he is a man worthy of my time. Of my consideration.”
Parthena smiled. “Lucas always spoke highly of him. And I enjoyed my time with Mr. Hawke in Minneapolis. Even Morgan believes he’s a decent man, although a musician.” She smiled at her friend. “Now you have three of your friends speaking for him on his behalf, and I’d consider that all the recommendation you need.”
Rowena frowned and pursed her lips. “My father will hate him.”
Zylphia scoffed as she eased Rowena from her confining shoes. “Your father hates everyone. I shouldn’t worry about that. Besides, you have money now. You needn’t worry ever again about what your father wants.”
“He’s my only family,” she protested.
“Perhaps, but I like to think we are family too,” Zylphia said as she pointed to Parthena. She smiled as Rowena rose and moved behind the modesty barrier to change into her nightgown.
When she emerged, she frowned at Zylphia’s disgruntled expression. “What?”
“Is that all you did? Talk?” She grunted as Parthena hit her on her arm. “You know you’re as curious as I am.” Her smile bloomed as Rowena blushed. “Oh, good, it was worth waiting up for. I had hoped the whisker burn on your neck was from something other than a chaste discussion of the beautiful moonlight.” Her eyes danced with humor. “Do tell.”
Rowena perched on the edge of the chaise longue while Zylphia and Parthena sat on the side of her bed. “He wanted to dance with me.” She closed her eyes. “It was magical. I never knew a man could smell so good.” She opened her eyes at her friends’ giggles. “And then he kissed me.”
When she paused, Parthena made a motion with her hand. “And? What did you feel?”
“Like I finally knew what all the fuss was about,” Rowena whispered.
“Oh my,” Zylphia murmured with a grin. “Then you’ll be even more elated when you learn exactly what all the fuss is truly about.” She laughed when Parthena hit her with a pillow. “So, what now?”
“He leaves to go on tour, and I don’t know when I’ll see him again. He wants to write me. But, if he writes me at my father’s house in Boston, my father will have a fit.” She tilted her head. “I never thought of that when I agreed to his request.”
“He can send his letters to one of us. We’ll make sure you get them the same day.” Zylphia and Parthena shared a look and nodded. “I don’t mind deceiving your father.”
“Zee,” Rowena said with a sigh, “you make it sound like it’s for a noble cause.”
“Because it is, you goose. You’ve found a man who’s interested in you and who, by all accounts, is a good man. Why would you pass him up?”
She firmed her lips into a grimace. “I didn’t tell him about my mother.”
Parthena frowned. “Why would you? She died years ago. He doesn’t need to know about the trust she left you. Not yet.”
“No, P.T.,” Zylphia said, calling Parthena by her old nickname before she married, when she was Parthena Tyler, “that her mother was German. That Rowena’s half German.”
Parthena sighed and flopped back onto the bed. “I wish I could say it doesn’t matter. But it will to some.” She leaned up on her elbows. “Do you think it will to him?”
Rowena shrugged. “I don’t know. He depends on commissions and his reputation. What would be said if he were to be linked to me? To a woman whose mother was from an aristocratic family in Germany? Too many believe that all such families were friendly with the Kaiser.”
“Wasn’t yours?” Zylphia asked.
“Remotely,” Rowena said. “The way Teddy’s family was friendly with the Royal Family in England.”
Zylphia shrugged. “All that should matter is that you’re an American citizen,” Zylphia said. “Which is more than can be said of me. Why should anyone care where your mother was born? Or who her family was? You’ve proven your loyalty to this country over and over.”
“Those with a pea-size intellect will believe that Ro’s support of the suffrage cause might be her way of attempting to sabotage the war effort,” Parthena murmured.
Zylphia rolled her eyes. “They aren’t even worth mentioning.”
Rowena sat for a long moment in silence and then shook her head. “I don’t like deceit, and I already fear that my lack of full honesty will bring me sorrow.” She firmed her jaw. “If Perry and I are to write, then he will write me at my father’s.”
Parthena beamed at her. “Bravo.”
&n
bsp; * * *
Parthena slipped into the room she shared with her husband and moved behind the privacy curtain to change into her nightgown. She emerged, flicking off the lamp and crawled under the covers.
“Are you finally to bed?” Morgan said as he curled an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Yes,” she said as she stroked a hand over his arm. After several moments, she felt him stir behind her, and she turned to find him attempting to wake up. “What are you doing?”
“Something is the matter, and I don’t want to be too sleepy to understand what you say.”
She smiled and crawled onto his chest, kissing him. “I love you, Morgan. I’m sorry for worrying you.” She frowned. “Although I fail to see why Mr. Hawke’s presence tonight should concern you.”
“Did he harm Rowena?” his voice had chilled, and Parthena shivered at the tone.
She stroked his forehead, attempting to rub away the worry lines. “No. In fact, I think he might be intelligent enough to see how remarkable she is.”
He smiled. “Good. She needs to get over her infatuation …” He shook his head and shrugged. “She deserves to be happy.” He caressed his wife’s face and frowned. “What aren’t you telling me? I have a sense you are keeping secrets, Parthena.”
She stroked a hand over his cheek and then at his neck to his chest. “Did you mean it?” When he stared at her blankly, she admitted on a rush, “I didn’t mean to listen in on your private conversation, but I heard you speaking with Jeremy today. I listened as he talked about his fears.” She raised her worried gaze to his. “Did you mean it when you said that you would prefer me to never have a child than to suffer such worry?”
He nodded. “Of course. I hate imagining you in such pain. I hate considering you suffering.” He shrugged. “I’m happy as we are, Hennie, with or without children.” He frowned as tears coursed down her cheeks. “What is it?”
“Do you not want children?” she whispered around a sob.
He pushed her until she lay down, and he leaned over her, stroking her cheeks. “I want you. Nothing else. If we are blessed, then I will find a way to survive a fear that I worry will be nearly insurmountable. But I will try to do anything for you.”
“But do you want them?”
He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Yes,” he rasped. “I feel selfish saying it, as I hate that you must suffer to give me this desire. But I want a daughter. A son. As many as we can have.” He raised haunted eyes to her. “I want our house to be filled with laughter and joy and chaos, the way mine never was. I want to know that there will always be love.”
“Oh, Morgan,” she whispered as she pulled him to her and held him, rolling with him as he held her on his chest. “I have been keeping secrets.” She kissed his palm and pressed it to her belly. “We are to have a child, darling.”
“What?”
“I thought … I thought when I heard you speaking with Jeremy today that it meant you didn’t want one, and my heart nearly broke. I want a baby, our baby, so much.” She sniveled inelegantly and laughed as he gave out a whoop that could awaken the house. “Shh, love.”
“God, how I love you, Parthena,” he whispered. “I promise I always will.”
She kissed his lips and then his head as he leaned down and kissed her belly. “Oh, Morgan,” she whispered, her fingers playing in his hair. “Thank you.”
He looked up at her with an expression she had never seen before: one of absolute peace and contentment. “There’s nothing more that I want on this earth than to have you, and our child, with me. Everything else is a boon.”
“Never leave me,” she whispered. “Promise me.”
He frowned. “I think I should be the one demanding that of you. You’re the one who will be going through the travails of motherhood.” His fingers intertwined with hers. “I have one dream left, Hennie.”
“Only one?” she asked with a frown.
“Only one that matters,” he said with a smile as he scooted up to steal a kiss. He settled on the bed with her head cradled on his shoulder. “I want to grow old with you. To retell our stories to each other as we remember these youthful adventures. That is what I want, more than anything else.”
She kissed his shoulder. “That is my dream too.”
* * *
Savannah burst into the sitting room facing the sea, the doors open to allow the breeze and gentle sound of the waves to enter. “Father! Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally here.”
He set aside the newspaper and pulled her close. “My darling girl,” he smiled as he looked at her. “The house has been too quiet without you, Jeremy and Melinda.”
“Please say you’ll stay until September. Until we return to Boston.”
He tugged her to sit next to him on a comfortable settee facing the back lawn and ocean. He smiled absently at the sight of Zylphia playing tag with her husband and Richard’s children. “I’ve been here an hour, and I’m more relaxed that I’ve been in years. Of course I’ll stay.”
She gave a small squeal of delight, sounding more like her daughter than a forty-one-year-old woman. She sobered after a moment and said, “But what about the store? You’ve never taken more than a day or two off since I was born.”
He smiled mischievously, reminding her of Lucas. “I wasn’t able to join you when you first arrived here because I was negotiating the sale of it. I will run it for another month or two after I return in September as I train the owner’s new staff. It will give me the opportunity to reassure my loyal customers that the same high-quality service and products they have come to rely on will continue. Then I will be a free man.”
She gripped his hand. “Where will you live? I assume they will take possession of your home over the shop.”
He nodded. “They will. I’ll find a new home.” He smiled. “Or I will finally travel to Montana with you.”
She battled tears as she leaned into his side. “Yes, please,” she whispered through her tears. “I want my baby to know you, and Lucas has missed you too.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. “How have you liked Newport?” he asked.
She grimaced. “I love this house and being so close to the ocean. Early morning and evening walks are enjoyable.” She sighed. “But I had a disastrous reentry into society. They gossiped about me and were cruel to Jeremy and Melinda.”
“I doubt that bothered your husband. He never seemed the sort of man to yearn for a ballroom.” He grinned as she giggled. “Although I am sorry for Melinda. I know she looked forward to dancing at a ball.”
“Oh, she danced once. With the singer, Perry Hawke. He seems impervious to concerns about his reputation.”
“I’m altogether certain it is improper for such a man to woo a woman of Melinda’s age.”
Savannah shifted so she could meet her father’s glower. “I believe he danced with her as a favor to Lucas. His interest appears to lie with a friend of Zee’s. Rowena Clement.”
Martin Russell let out a deep breath. “I can only hope he is more steadfast in his dalliances than most artists I’ve been acquainted with.”
Savannah frowned. “Father? Lucas isn’t like that.”
He smiled as he thought about his son. “No, and I’m thankful he isn’t.” He closed his eyes a moment. “It’s no great secret that your mother and I had trouble in our marriage. That she wished I were more successful.”
“Grander,” Savannah said.
He nodded. “You know how her parents were—are—overbearing and determined to bludgeon everyone around them into the pattern or mold of their choosing. Ironically only your aunt Betsy followed their dictates.” His eyes were unfocused a moment. “Before we wed, an attractive performer from Scollay Square ruined her reputation. I wed her to save the family store and to save her from social condemnation.”
He focused on Savannah. “You don’t seem surprised.” Shock glint in his gaze.
“Aunt Betsy told me all about Mother’s wild youth after
I left Jonas. I believe she wanted me to better understand my mother.” She shrugged. “However, I’ll never understand her or forgive her.” After a moment she asked, “Why do you fear Mr. Hawke is like that man?”
“I’ve read quite a bit about him in the papers,” Martin said with a wry lift of his eyebrows.
“Yes, but then we read a lot of rumors about Lucas that aren’t true.”
Her father’s eyes gleamed with pride as he beheld his daughter. “Then I will hope Mr. Hawke is not as feckless as I fear. For Miss Clement’s sake.”
* * *
Martin wandered outside and found Melinda sitting on the steps leading to the yard. “How are you, my darling granddaughter?” He smiled as she leaped up and hugged him. “I have missed you.”
“Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Gramps,” she said as she sniffled.
He frowned as he traced away a tear. “What’s this? Why are you crying?” She was fidgety, so he motioned for her to walk with him. “This is a beautiful time of day, and few will deign to walk now. They are resting or preparing for their evening out, so we should have the Cliff Walk to ourselves.” His frown deepened as his words eased her anxiety.
He waited for her to speak, but she remained uncharacteristically quiet. “Your mother informed me that your foray into society didn’t go as you had hoped.”
“Oh, Gramps, it was a disaster. I was too loud. My dress was too simple, and I know I’ll never perfect that look of boredom that everyone wears.”
He laughed. “Why should you?”
She shook her head as her natural exuberance returned. “But how can they be bored here? Are they that accustomed to being in a room with gold gilded mirrors and crystal chandeliers with fifty lights and doors spilling out to a lawn that leads to an ocean?”
This time he sighed. “I’m afraid most of them think that such an environment is their due and find nothing special in such an occasion.” He paused with her as they reached a promontory overlooking the coast at the large homes up and down it. “It boggles my mind, but they have so much money that they don’t know what to do with it.”
Abiding Love: Banished Saga, Book Eight Page 20
