Eleanor ran a hand over his head, smiling her agreement. “You are very fortunate.” When she noticed Breandan becoming a little sleepy, she sat so her back was against the settee with Breandan on her lap. She held the train so he continued to play with that before he turned his face into her neck, breathing deeply and falling asleep. “Oh, you precious boy,” she whispered as she ran a hand over his back.
“He didn’t get a nap today,” Billy said, as he watched his cousin fall asleep. “He still needs naps.” His chest puffed out, as though with pride at the implication he was old enough that he no longer needed a nap.
“I like naps,” Eleanor murmured, earning a confused look from the young boy. “Someday you’ll appreciate them too.” She laughed softly at his disgusted face and winked at him.
“I don’t know why he’d choose to nap now. He’ll miss dinner,” Billy said in a stupefied voice.
“Not everyone is solely focused on their stomach, Billy-boy,” Jeremy called out.
Eleanor stilled at the sound of his voice, looking to the side as she heard his footsteps approach. Her gaze met Jeremy’s shocked expression as he gaped at her holding Breandan. “Hello,” she whispered inanely.
“Eleanor,” he said. He dropped to sit beside her, reaching out for his son. However, Breandan wasn’t fully asleep, and he clung to Eleanor.
“He’s fine,” she said, as she stroked a hand over the boy’s back. “I enjoy holding him.” She watched, mesmerized, as myriad emotions flit over Jeremy’s face. Appreciation. Sadness. Hope. She frowned as he looked away, focusing on Billy and Little Colin. Although she was anxious to play with Jeremy, Billy, and Little Colin, she relished her time cradling Breandan, and enjoyed watching Jeremy play with his nephews.
“Billy, come wash your hands, and ensure Little Colin comes with you!” Clarissa called from the kitchen.
Billy grumbled until Jeremy promised they would continue to attempt their traverse of the Grand Canyon tomorrow. But Billy jumped up when he heard his mother’s voice the second time and raced into the kitchen, tugging his youngest brother behind him, yelling at full volume about his adventures in Arizona with his uncle.
“He’s incorrigible,” Eleanor murmured, when she met Jeremy’s guarded gaze.
He nodded, his gaze roving over her. “How are you, Eleanor?” he asked, pulling his now-sleeping son into his arms.
“I’m well. Fine.” She feared she’d start babbling synonyms of fine when he watched her with a steady gaze, his green eyes now glinting with amusement. “I’ve been busy.”
“I fear you’ve been busy avoiding me.” He gave a grunt at seeing her flush at his words. “I’m sorry to have caused you discomfort the last time I saw you.”
“No,” she stated, her hand reaching out to grip his arm as he rose. “That wasn’t it at all.” She looked in the direction of the dining room and bit her lip.
“May I walk you home tonight?” he asked. He seemed to relax at her relieved smile. “Good. Something to look forward to.” He rose with sinuous grace and then held his free hand out to her. “Come. It will be wonderful for you to join us at dinner again. We’ve missed your company.”
* * *
A soft breeze blew, clearing the air of coal and woodsmoke so that a faint hint of pine flirted on the breeze. Eleanor breathed deeply as she stood on Clarissa’s front stoop, waiting for Jeremy. She had heard him arrange for Breandan to remain with his aunt and uncle until Jeremy returned from walking her home. When he joined her on the front porch, she whispered, “You really don’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”
“Walking you home is no trouble. It is a pleasure. I’ve missed talking with you. Seeing you.” He paused to see if his words had an effect, and he frowned as she glanced up the street, avoiding his gaze.
She walked beside him but refrained from slipping her arm through his winged-out elbow. When she would have marched down the sidewalk, he gripped her arm, slowing her pace.
“Eleanor, you implied before dinner you weren’t angry with me. But now it seems as though you are,” he said in a low, confused voice. “What can I do to alleviate your hurt or doubt?”
“There’s no reason for me to feel anything,” she said.
He came to an abrupt halt, his gaze filled with frustration. When she belatedly stopped and spun to face him a few paces ahead of him, he said, “Of course there is.” He approached her, his green eyes lit with a fierce intensity. “If you truly feel nothing, tell me now, and I will walk you home in silence and never bother you again.”
She closed her eyes, fisting her hands as she let out a deep breath. “I can’t. I can’t lie to you,” she whispered, as a tear streaked out. “But I’m so afraid.”
“Of me?” he whispered. He jolted at the sound of a neighbor shutting a front door and urged her to walk into an alleyway, where they were hidden from view.
She met his fearful gaze. “No,” she said in a low voice, as she gripped his hand. “Of how you make me feel. Of how much I fear you’ll never truly care for me.”
He swallowed, closing his eyes a long moment. “I know your fears. I understand them.” He sighed as he met her tormented gaze, his hand rising to caress her cheek. “I hate that I can’t promise you days filled with only sunshine and smiles.” He shrugged. “I can promise that I feel more for you than I ever thought I’d feel again. I need time, Eleanor, to determine what it all means.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“We met not even two months ago. Be patient with me.” He looked at her, frowning as she moved closer, as though to entice him into her arms for a passionate embrace. “God, how I want to kiss you. To hold you close again.” His eyes clouded with regret and frustration. “But I refuse to have you believe that’s all I want from you. For, if we are to have a relationship, Eleanor, I want so much more.”
“I don’t understand,” she whispered with a shake of her head.
“You said that you knew the only thing I’d ever want from you is passion. Nothing else.” He smiled as he stroked a finger over her eyebrow. “While I do dream of passion with you, I want so much more. To learn about your hopes and dreams and frustrations. To discover what makes you laugh, what brings you joy, and then do everything I can to fill your life with happiness. I want to learn what’s hurt you, so I know what not to do in the future. What pleases you.” He smiled as he saw a tenuous hope in her gaze. “Will you give us time to see what this is?”
“Yes.” She gasped as he yanked her forward, into his arms, for a fierce embrace.
“Thank you.” As he held her, he felt hopeful for the first time since Savannah died.
Chapter 11
Boston, June 1920
Parthena puttered around her sitting room, fluffing up pillows that didn’t need her attention, casting a critical eye over the arrangement of the chairs and settees. She nudged a small side table an inch to the right and then pushed it back to where it had originally been. Letting out a huff in frustration, she held her hands at her hips, she glowered at the room.
“Why are you mad at your furnishings?” Morgan asked, as he entered on silent feet, the thick carpets concealing his entrance. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close. Closing his eyes as she relaxed against him, he rested his head on her shoulder. “I’ve missed this, Hennie.”
She clasped the arms holding her close and tilted her head to allow him to kiss her neck. “I’ve missed you, too, Morgan. I … I know you’ve been patient with me. Please. Just a little longer.”
He heaved out a sigh, his hold on her remaining strong and true. “I’ve loved you forever. You must know I’ll wait forever too.”
She raised a hand to cup the side of his face. “I don’t want you to have to wait that long.” She flushed as she turned to meet his hopeful gaze. “I don’t want to have to wait that long.” She bit her lip. “I have this irrational fear. Of another child.”
He nodded but bit back the words he would say when she raised her fingers
to his lips. “Tell me why you are vibrating with tension.”
“Viv arrives today. I haven’t seen her in so long,” she whispered. She frowned as Morgan stiffened in her arms at the mention of her sister traveling to Boston.
“He’s coming too, isn’t he?” At her nod, he attempted to extricate himself from her hold. “I must attend to some business.”
“No!” She clasped his face between her hands, her palms scraping over a subtle layer of stubble, even though he’d shaved that morning. “No, Morgan. You know I feel nothing more than friendship toward Lucas. And the deepest gratitude that he loves my sister.” She looked deeply into his tormented eyes. “I love you. You.” She paused as her voice shook, and her jaw wobbled as she fought crying. “Please help me face one of my worst fears.” She blinked as her eyes filled.
“You’re terrified of seeing your sister?” he breathed, the irrational fear that Lucas Russell would return and could charm his wife away from him fading at the sight of her terror. “Why, Hennie?”
She fell forward, her arms wrapped around his waist. She breathed in his familiar scent and took strength from his calm acceptance of her fear. She pressed against him more firmly and clung to him. “She has what I most desire. What I loved and lost,” she breathed. “How … How can I not mourn?”
“Oh, my love,” he whispered, as he kissed her head. “Celebrate your niece. Rejoice in your sister’s good fortune. She is not to blame for our heartache.”
Parthena kissed his jaw and backed away. Her hazel eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “No one is. There is no blame. Just misfortune.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m so ashamed that I cannot rejoice at her imminent arrival but mourn it.”
“No, my darling, I know you don’t. Not truly. You long to have seen our daughter play side by side with your niece. You long to have seen your sister hold our child and spoil her, as an aunt should.” His eyes glistened, and he cleared his throat. “Do not deny your sister such memories.”
“I don’t know if I’m that strong, Morgan,” she whispered.
Leaning forward to kiss her forehead, he murmured, “I know you are. And I promise I’ll be right beside you until you wish me to leave. I know that sisters have secrets they like to impart without husbands around to listen in.” He smiled as she giggled.
“Thank you.” At a loud knock at the front door, she pushed back and ran a hand over her peony-pink skirt to smooth it down. “I think they have arrived.” She clutched Morgan’s hand as the butler opened the door, and she heard Lucas’s strong voice.
Morgan wrapped an arm around her waist, and she leaned against him, his focus on his wife, rather than the guests who had come to call. He felt her subtle tremble and ran a soothing hand over her back.
The butler entered, intoning the arrival of “Mr. Lucas Russell and family,” before departing with a nod from Morgan. Parthena ignored Lucas, rushing with outstretched arms to her sister. “Viv!” she cried. “Oh, you’re home at last!” She grabbed her tight, pulling her in for a hug. “It seems like forever since I saw you!”
She turned to watch Lucas, shaking Morgan’s hand, turning so that Morgan had a good view of his two-year-old daughter, Lizzie.
“Here’s our precious girl, Lizzie,” Lucas said. “This is your Uncle Morgan. You won’t remember him, as you last saw him when you were a baby.” He laughed as Lizzie reached her arms out for Morgan to hold her. Lucas handed her over, patting a hand over her brown curls. “She’s used to going from uncle to aunt to cousin with the family in Montana.” He turned and smiled at Parthena, his expression warmly remote for a man who had confessed passionate love for her in the past. “Hi, Parthena. It’s good to see you with my Vivie again.” His eyes glowed with love and devotion when he looked at his wife.
“Lucas,” Parthena murmured, her gaze entranced by the sight of Morgan holding Lizzie. Her breath caught as he laughed when she poked at his cheeks and then grabbed his nose. “I hope you had a good journey,” she said inanely, as she attempted to focus on anything besides her husband holding her niece.
“It was fine. The trains are more comfortable, and we enjoyed finding ways to keep Lizzie entertained.” He waited for Genevieve to join him and then moved to one of the settees. He looked around the elaborate room. “I’d forgotten how ornate these rooms are,” he murmured.
Genevieve smiled as she sat beside her husband. “As you know, our life is more simple in Butte.”
Morgan sat with Lizzie on his lap, balanced on one leg, and acted as though his leg were a horse. He laughed as she giggled with glee at the game, clutching him as she bounced on his leg. “Oh, what a darling girl,” he said, as he looked with delight at Genevieve and Lucas. “You are most fortunate.”
Genevieve nodded, her gaze filled with love as she looked at her daughter. “We are. She rarely complains and always seems filled with delight and joy. She is quite curious, so she keeps us on our toes.”
Lucas chuckled, stretching a hand behind his wife’s back on the settee. “She comes by that naturally, with Billy McLeod always attempting to find some sort of mischief.”
“But you must ensure she is safe. Not allow her to be in any danger,” Parthena whispered, as she looked at her niece.
Lucas stiffened as though she had offended him and his ability to care for her daughter, but he calmed as Genevieve stroked a hand over his arm. Genevieve spoke in a soft tone. “We do. Billy is always mindful that his cousin is young. More often than not, she plays with Breandan and Little Colin. We’ve been spending more time in Missoula lately.”
“Do you plan to move there?” Morgan asked, as he sat with a now-sleepy Lizzie in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, running a soothing hand over her back as she stuttered out a breath and tumbled into sleep. “I’d imagine it would be a comfort to be near family.”
“Patrick is planning to move to Missoula this summer, and then we’d be all alone in Butte. I think we’ll move there by this fall at the latest. Once this tour is over, we’ll have a better opportunity to make plans,” Lucas said. He smiled at Genevieve as he clasped her hand. “I think Vivie would enjoy living in a place that isn’t a mile high and has more green space.”
“And we can have Jeremy and Gabriel make it uniquely our own,” Genevieve said with a sigh of pleasure. Her smile was one of complete contentment to see her daughter in Morgan’s arms. She looked at her sister, frowning as Parthena remained mostly quiet. “How is our family?” she asked.
“Floundering,” Parthena said, flushing at her bluntness. “I fear you should be prepared for requests for aid.”
Genevieve shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand. I’ve been disowned. Father has written me, stating that he no longer considers me his daughter, while Mother wishes she’d never wasted nine months of her life giving me life.”
“Viv,” Parthena breathed. “They couldn’t have been that cruel.” She looked from Lucas to her sister, seeing the anger in Lucas and the resignation in her sister.
“They were.” Her sister gave a small laugh. “Thus, if they believe that I will miraculously forget their mistreatment of me because they are suddenly beggared due to their mismanagement of their wealth, they are mistaken.” She let out a shaky breath.
Lucas cleared his throat. “I am a worthless peddler of mediocre honky-tonk melodies repugnant to the discerning ear.” He nodded as Parthena and Morgan gaped at him. “That’s a direct quote from her father. I’m surprised he ever heard of the word honky-tonk. I thought that was below his notice.” He shrugged. “At any rate, I have no inclination to share any of my hard-earned money with such a man or his worthless relations.”
Morgan made a sound of agreement in his voice, casting a quick glance to Lizzie, asleep on his chest, to ensure he hadn’t woken her. “His son-in-law, your brother-in-law, is worse than useless. Owen Hubbard imagined himself a financial titan, like Teddy, but failed miserably.” His eyes gleamed with unrestrained glee. “I can’t say that doesn’t delight me.”
>
“Or me,” Parthena said. “He’s as repugnant as you might recall, Viv. And remains as angry as ever that Zee married Teddy.”
“How is Eudora?” Genevieve asked, concern for her sister evident in her gaze and voice. “I worry about her married to such a man.”
“She refuses to acknowledge that we are related.” Parthena flushed. “Well, after Morgan refused to give Father another cent, now that there are no more sisters who are in need of protection from Father’s misguided plots, there is no need to further fund his activities.”
“Diplomatically stated,” Lucas said, with a bite to his voice. “Now that he has no more daughters to auction off to the highest bidder, you can tell the bastard where to go.”
Morgan nodded. “Exactly. He received enough money upon our marriage to live comfortably, if economically, for the rest of his life. It’s not my fault he dabbled in disreputable speculation.” He looked at Parthena to see her nod in agreement. “Nor is it our responsibility to continually give him money.”
Genevieve flushed with anger. “No. He convinced Eudora to marry that horrible man. And I can only imagine what he would have done to Isabel if she hadn’t died.” She ducked her head as she thought about their fourth sister who had died during the Spanish flu epidemic that had ravaged Boston in the fall of 1918. She relaxed as Lucas murmured something into her ear.
Lucas looked at their hosts and smiled. “We will be staying with Sophronia. She has a large home and is delighted to have visitors. Hopefully you will call on us there, and we will be welcome to call on you here. I will be quite busy with rehearsals with Perry, and Vivie will have plenty of free time.”
Parthena cleared her throat and then flushed. “I know this is impertinent, but would it be possible to obtain tickets to your opening night performance with Perry when you perform at the Opera House? They sold out quickly here, and we have been unable to purchase any.”
Lucas laughed. “Of course. I always have a handful of seats reserved for me in every city. I’d be delighted if you would join Vivie in our box.”
Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine Page 18