Abiding Love: Banished Saga, Book Eight

by Flightner, Ramona

Amelia

  Chapter 14

  Boston, September 1918

  Room 712 at the PHH, 7:00 p.m.

  P

  Rowena scrunched up the note in her hand and fought the urge to look furtively around to see if any of the servants were staring at her. However, the servant who had delivered the message had already left the room, discreetly shutting the door behind him. She sat in the informal living room of her father’s mansion on a lumpy lady’s chair. Mahogany wainscoting and deep red wallpaper gave the room a dark feel that no amount of lighting or windows could brighten. When she was younger, she had spent hours envisioning how she would redecorate the room, but her father had insisted the room showcased their wealth and importance, and was not to be altered. Rowena let out a deep breath as she battled a blush and rose, exiting the living room to prepare for her rendezvous, only to come to a stumbling halt as her father exited his study.

  He cast a quick glance over her and frowned. “I had hoped by now you had more grace than a three-legged cat.” He glowered at her flush. “And I forbid you to come down with that so-called influenza that is circulating through the city. I don’t have time to care for an invalid.” He stormed up the stairs and down the hall, the door to his room slamming shut. She knew he would change for dinner, attend a function with a business associate and return home late.

  She walked on silent feet to her suite of rooms, on the opposite side of the house as her father’s, shutting and locking the door behind her. As she approached the mirror on her dressing room door with halting steps, her critical gaze took in the trepidation in her amber-colored eyes. She raised a hand to her auburn hair, wishing for the millionth time it was blond and that she was beautiful. “Stop pining for what will never be.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply a few times before opening them and firming her shoulders.

  After yanking open her large closet door, she searched for an attractive yet demure dress. After donning the dress, fixing her hair, and placing scent on her neck and wrists, she flopped onto her bed as she listened for the sounds of her father’s departure. Her mind wandered, thinking about Perry’s letters from the past six weeks. They had been frequent and varying in length. When he had time, like when he was bored on a long train ride, he wrote pages of details and thoughts to her. She treasured the insights into his life as he lost his inhibitions the longer he wrote without interruption. She sighed as a contented smile spread. She adored his short missives too. The hastily scratched-out messages conveying his desire to see her. His frustration at their separation. His need to kiss her again.

  She closed her eyes, straining to hear the sounds of the house. Soon her father left. She waited another ten minutes before she rose, donning an even plainer jacket and hat, then wearing a mask of boredom as she approached the front door. The staff, accustomed to her outings without a chaperone or car, largely ignored her departure. She slipped outside and walked to a nearby subway station. With her nondescript jacket, she blended into the crowd.

  Scollay Square bustled with life as people hurried to meet friends, to attend a show or to rush home after a day of work. She skirted around a cart, its owner pushing it through the crowd as he peddled pickles. Her step faltered as she approached the large hotel, jostled by the crowd. She nodded to the doorman as he opened the front door for her and slipped inside.

  Mahogany wood shone as though just polished, and chandeliers illuminated the long hallway leading to a bank of elevators. She firmed her shoulders and acted as though she were a guest. She strolled to the elevators and instructed the elevator man to bring her to the seventh floor. Once there, her courage faltered, but she disembarked and walked with slow, purposeful steps until she stood in front of room 712. She raised her hand, but it was as though she were frozen, and her hand would not fall to rap on the door.

  A laugh from someone exiting a room down the hall propelled her into motion, and she knocked on the door. She waited as she heard footsteps approaching, and then the door was flung open. Her breath caught at the sight of Perry, standing in front of her with his white shirt undone at the collar.

  “Ro,” he whispered, before he tugged on her hand and dragged her into the room. He slammed the door shut behind her and pulled her into his arms. “God, you smell exactly as I dreamed you did. Forgive me, but let me hold you a few minutes.”

  His tight grip slowly eased until his hands caressed up and down her back. “I worried you’d forever remain out of reach. Like a fever dream.” He stepped back, keeping her head between his hands. “Why are you crying?” he whispered as he frowned.

  “I … I thought our time in Newport wasn’t real. That I’d have to live off those memories forever.” She sniffled and then smiled, her eyes lit with a transcendent joy. “I never thought to be in your arms again.”

  “Oh, love,” he murmured as he pulled her closer. “I had hoped my letters would help ease your doubts.”

  “They did. But they only made me yearn for you more.” She kissed his cheek and stepped away. “And they made it that much harder to ignore the newspapers who spoke about your latest lovers.” She flushed at her hasty words.

  “I have no one but you, Rowena. I need you to trust me.” He relaxed as she nodded. “I hate that I am a constant item in the gossip columns, but I also need them to spark interest in my career.” He brushed his fingers over her silky cheek.

  “I know I can’t compare to the women you meet every night.” She failed to hide the doubt in her gaze.

  He smiled and nodded. “You’re right. You don’t compare.” He saw her shock, and his grip firmed as she attempted to step away from him. “You are far superior in every regard. You are intelligent. Determined. Loyal. You are beautiful, but it is not your beauty that makes you irresistible, Rowena. It is everything else about you.”

  “Perry,” she whispered, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve missed you so much. How is that possible when I barely know you?”

  He let out a stuttering breath. “I recognized you, Ro.” His eyes flashed with hope as he tilted his head down to search her gaze. “Please tell me that you felt the same.”

  She nodded and stood on her toes to kiss him. “Yes,” she breathed. She sighed as he deepened the kiss. Her fingers tangled in his blond hair, tugging him closer, and she giggled, breaking their kiss as his fingers knotted in her coat.

  “Why are you wearing such a wretchedly ugly garment?” he muttered as he struggled with her light outer coat. He grinned as he pushed it off her shoulders and then frowned at her plain amber-colored dress. His fingertips traced the satiny fabric, eliciting a shiver.

  “I didn’t want to alert anyone that I was meeting someone other than my friends.” She dropped her head back as he kissed along her neck and nibbled at her ear. “That … that I was meeting you rather than attending another boring function.”

  “So I rate over a boring function?” he teased as he breathed deeply, inhaling her lilac and lemon scent. “God, I’m dizzy already.”

  She ran her fingers over his whiskered cheeks. “Yes. You’ll always rate over any function.” She watched as a deep emotion flared in his gaze. “But I shouldn’t stay long.”

  He lowered his head so his forehead rested against hers. “I won’t lie to you, Rowena. I will never lie to you.” He met her gaze, content when she nodded. “You can always ask me anything, and I will tell you the truth.” He let out a breath. “I want you. In my bed. To love, over and over, all night long.” He smiled as her breath caught at his declaration. “But I fear that may be too much, too fast.”

  He took a step back, smiling as she clung to his hand, unwilling to break contact with him. “Come. Sit with me on the comfortable sofa by the fire. Let me hold you.” He raised her hand and kissed it before easing her the few short steps to the sofa.

  “How did you arrive here tonight?” He stroked a hand over her shoulder and down her arm. After she settled, with her back against his front, he slung his arm over her belly and held her close.r />
  “I rode the subway.” She frowned as she felt him stiffen beneath her. “I always take public transportation when I can.”

  “Don’t, Ro. Not now. Not when so many are sickened every day from an illness we don’t understand. Hire a cab or take one of your father’s automobiles.”

  “I don’t want to rouse his suspicion,” she said, turning to face him. “And I like my freedom.”

  His hold on her tightened. “Please, darling. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.” He relaxed when she nodded her agreement.

  “I know this isn’t enough for you,” she whispered.

  He encouraged her to turn so that she rested with her elbows on his chest and so they could stare into each other’s eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong. Do you know what I miss when I am touring?” He saw confusion in her gaze and traced a finger over her silky cheek. “I miss the quiet. Time to reflect. Time to be alone. With nobody clamoring for a moment with me.” He sighed as she rested her head on his chest. “Moments like this.”

  His nimble fingers freed her hair, and he massaged her head and upper shoulders. “Holding you, like this, is a dream come true.”

  “You’d miss the charming smiles and the adoration of your fans,” she murmured.

  “I’d miss the applause when I finished a song. I would never miss the boring after-parties. The incessant chatter from mindless idiots as they spouted on about things they thought I cared about.” He sighed.

  “It’s part of your life, Perry. It’s what you must do to have the adoration,” she said as she relaxed into his embrace.

  “I know.” He paused, and she felt his deep inhalation as his chest moved underneath her. “It would be more bearable if I had someone to share it with.”

  Her head rose, and she stared at him, her mouth dropping open. “I’m sure I’m not hearing you correctly.”

  “I want to see where this goes between us, Ro. But I hate being separated from you.” He flushed. “I never meant to be such a fool as to speak so rashly.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know me.”

  His eyes flashed with anger. “I know you are loyal and patient and trustworthy. I know you try, and fail, to earn your father’s esteem. You are dedicated to your cause and a brilliant journalist. You try to hide your intelligence because you believe that isn’t esteemed in a woman. You have a sharp, biting wit that emerges in your writing, and yet you are kind to those you believe are in need of kindness. You love nature, as every letter remarked upon something to do with the time of day, the light, the smell.” He frowned as she battled tears. “Your friends adore you, and yet you are surprised they do.”

  “Perry,” she whispered.

  “Tell me, Rowena, tell me what I don’t know about you. Tell me what shame it is that keeps you apart from me.”

  She pushed on his chest, glaring at him as he held her wrists and would not let her rise.

  “You know I’ve had love affairs. You know I am far from perfect.” His voice dropped as he fought regret at the pain his words evoked. “Share yourself with me.”

  “I don’t want to risk your career,” she whispered. “I know how much it means to you.”

  He froze and released her arms. “You think my career means more to me? That it should?”

  “I know how hard you’ve worked for it,” she said. “It’s yours. Something you’ve earned. Not something given to you.”

  He slipped out from under her on the settee and rose. “I thought people of your class didn’t believe a man should work for anything. That, if he were worth being esteemed, it would all be given to him.”

  She shrugged. “Some believe that. Although, as you know, many work. Look at Teddy and Morgan.”

  He stared into the empty fire grate, one hand gripped in a fist at his side. “Teddy and Morgan,” he whispered. “Which one was it?” He spun to look at her and saw her panicked expression before she could hide it. “Which one was your lover before he married your friend?”

  She sputtered out a laugh and then stifled a sob, brushing away a tear. “Neither. I was never lover to either of them.” She sniffled and took a deep breath. “Although I had hoped Teddy would notice me, I realized that was a vain desire once he met Zee.”

  “And you’ve pined all this time?” He raised an eyebrow. “Until you decided to mingle with the singers and the gutter scum?”

  She rose and grabbed his arm. “Don’t speak like that!” Her eyes flashed with anger. “You are not gutter scum.”

  “Oh, that’s exactly what I am, Rowena. I was born in the slums of Albany, and there is little I didn’t do to get out of it. I’m surprised your friends didn’t warn you away from a man like me.” His caustic laugh evoked a shiver. “If you knew who I truly was, you’d want to scrub yourself clean with bleach for ever having allowed me to touch you.”

  She flinched at the derision in his voice and backed away. Fighting tears, she spun, looking for her jacket and hat. As she fumbled with her coat, her motions stilled, and his words echoed in her mind. “I know you,” she whispered through a tear-thickened voice. “You’re arrogant and proud and terrified of being hurt again. You’re loyal and patient and persistent. You’re compassionate and giving and kind.” She turned to face him, her brows furrowed as she saw him standing in silent agony across the room from her. “I had hoped you were a man brave enough to be mine.” She spun, wrenching open the door and fleeing into the hallway.

  * * *

  The following evening, Perry sat in a quiet corner of the Parker House Hotel lounge, nursing a whiskey. He ignored the men sitting in small clusters nearby, his gaze dark and foreboding as he reenacted in his mind the scene from the previous evening with Rowena. “What an ass,” he whispered, taking a long sip of whiskey. He hissed as the liquor burned and closed his eyes.

  “Hawke,” a man said as he sat beside him. He carried himself with the self-assurance of a man of the upper class, exuding wealth and power.

  “Sir?” Perry said as he nodded. “I’m afraid I have yet to make your acquaintance.”

  “Isn’t that curious? You seem to know so many of my associates. And some of them quite intimately.” The older man, with gray mixed in his chestnut hair, glared at Perry. “How long are you to remain in Boston?”

  Perry tilted his head and shrugged. “I’m uncertain it is any concern of yours, but I have no fixed plans as of now.” He jerked as the man grabbed his arm, sloshing the whiskey from his tumbler.

  “Fix them,” the older man said. “I want you out of Boston by tomorrow evening.”

  Perry’s brown eyes darkened with restrained anger. “Who are you to advise me?”

  “The father of the woman you defiled last night,” he uttered in a voice only audible to Perry. “I am Reginald Clement, and I have the influence and power to bury you.”

  Perry infused humor into his gaze. “Many have made such claims in the past and failed. Why should I fear you?”

  “I know who your investments are with. I will ensure you lose everything.”

  Perry froze, unable to hide the terror in his gaze.

  “And then I will ensure you never sing again, except for in a two-bit cantina on the Mexican border.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “My daughter is worth more than some fortune hunter. Have you no shame?” Reginald’s eyes glowed with animosity as he beheld his foe.

  “I have no need of whatever meager dowry you intend to bestow upon her,” Perry said, flushing as he realized too late he had tipped his hand. He shivered at the man’s laugh.

  “You thought to marry my daughter? To align yourself with the Clements of Boston?” Reginald shook his head. “You are a fool. But then I expected no better than that from someone from Albany. What do you think Rowena would say if she knew about your past?”

  “She knows already,” Perry whispered.

  “All of your past?” Reginald said, smiling with satisfaction as Perry paled further. “You are not worthy of being in th
e same room as her, never mind speaking with her.” He rose. “Stay away from my daughter, Hawke, and do yourself a favor. Leave town.”

  * * *

  Rowena joined her friends in Parthena’s opulent mansion on Commonwealth Avenue. The large white-stoned mansion on a corner lot had many gables and a large conservatory in the back. Parthena’s sitting room was paneled in black walnut wood and had a piano in one corner. Ornate molding decorated the ceiling, and a large crystal chandelier hung from the center of the room’s ceiling. A thick Aubusson rug covered the wood floors, and an intimate sitting area near a window had a settee, two chairs and a table. Although somewhat formal, the room had a lived-in feel to it and was a welcoming place for Parthena’s friends.

  Rowena attempted a bright smile but failed as tears threatened. She gave silent thanks as both Parthena and Zylphia appeared preoccupied. “What was so urgent that you felt we needed to meet?” Rowena asked.

  Zylphia held up a letter and frowned at Rowena. “I thought Alice wrote you too. She is determined that we return to Washington. The vote for the Anthony Amendment will soon occur in the Senate, and she wants us there to help in the final weeks to persuade the recalcitrant senators.”

  Rowena sighed and tugged a pillow to her chest. “They will vote as they want to, not as they should. Besides, I’m not returning to Washington anytime soon. My father has forbidden me from traveling there as he believes I am in violation of the Sedition Act if I continue to work toward full enfranchisement.”

  Parthena snorted. “Women have every right to highlight the hypocrisy of the man who spouts nonsense about bringing democracy to the free world but then denies it to half of his own citizenry.” She shared a look with Zylphia. “I know Sophie says that repeatedly, and I agree. I feel like we should have banners waving from our homes with those sentiments.”

  Zylphia laughed. “Oh, to see Teddy’s face. He might agree with my sentiments, but he’d be upset with the disruption to his business and his quiet life.”