Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine

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Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine Page 21

by Flightner, Ramona


  Her father raised his hand, pointing at Morgan. “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten the scandal of your youth. I’ll tell everyone, and you’ll be the most talked-about man in Boston. I’ll ruin you.”

  Morgan shrugged.

  Morgan’s father had lost all the family’s wealth. Morgan’s mother had abandoned the family when he was a young man. Rather than attend exclusive finishing schools, Morgan had attended public high schools, working two or three jobs and speculating with the money he earned. He had had successful business dealings and had earned enough money to attend Harvard, never garnering any of Boston Society’s interest because they had believed him to be in New York City the entire time he was a teen, rather than the Boston slums.

  Morgan smiled as his indifference caused the old man’s bravado to deflate. “The only person’s esteem I value is Parthena’s, and she already knows the entire sordid story. I don’t care who you tell.” He paused. “And, yes, I may become food for society’s gossips, but I will still be a successful businessman.”

  Parthena nodded to their butler, who opened the door. “Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler. I wish you well.”

  “This isn’t the last you’ve heard of us!” her father screeched, as he was shown out the door.

  Morgan stood beside Parthena, waiting until all the trunks were outside and the door closed and locked. “Come,” he murmured, leading her up the stairs to their room. He gave a silent prayer of thanksgiving that it was now their room again, rather than his. After closing and locking the bedroom door behind them, he eased her into his arms, holding her close. When the trembling and then tears began, he rocked her and held her. “Shh, my love. They aren’t worth your emotions.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “But it’s one thing to say I wouldn’t give them a place to live and another to actually do it.” She clung to him. “I don’t know how much longer I could have held out, if you hadn’t come home.”

  “If you want them here, I can find a way to live with them.” He eased away and met her shocked gaze. “Whatever makes you happy will make me happy, Hennie.”

  “No,” she said, with a firm shake of her head. “I don’t want them here. They would sully what we have, and my mother’s barbed questions and comments would poison our relationship. She resents anyone who is pleased with their life.”

  He pulled her close. “I’m sorry, my love.”

  “Thank you for coming when I asked. I know you would rather have stayed at work, rather than run home to face them.”

  He shook his head, an amused smile playing over his features. “I never read more than the first two lines of your note. All I needed to read was that you needed me. And then I came running.”

  “Oh, Morgan, how I love you.” She wrapped her arms around him, secure in his love for her.

  * * *

  Aidan entered his study and paused to find Delia resting on his new sofa. It was longer and wider, so as to encourage cuddling with his wife, and this was the first time he had found her asleep on it. He approached her, pulling over a chair to sit on as she slept. He frowned as he saw how exhausted she looked, even in sleep.

  “Quit staring at me,” she whispered many minutes later as she woke.

  “Is there something you haven’t told me?” Aidan asked in a low voice he hoped hid his terror. When she opened her eyes to expose her luminous hazel eyes filled with confusion, he clasped her hand. “Are you ill?”

  She sighed. “Not critically.” She kissed his hand. “I have anemia.”

  “Pernicious?” he whispered, barely able to force out the word.

  She raised his hand and kissed it. “No, iron deficiency. I’ve already talked to our cook, and she’ll prepare foods rich in iron every day. I should feel better soon.”

  He dropped his head to rest beside her shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Delia.” He relaxed as her hand played in his thick white hair. “I love you so.”

  “And I love you, Aidan. I’m sorry I dithered about seeing the doctor. I worried what he would say, and I didn’t go as quickly as I should have. As I could have.” She smiled at him. “And, no, this will not prevent our trip to Montana this summer.”

  He met her smile. “I already knew better than to ask.” He kissed her forehead. “I have a surprise for you.” He rose and then returned. “It’s actually something Zee found when she was going through my things. You know I have a few trunks of items I haven’t gone through in years.”

  At her nod, he handed her a packet tied with red ribbon. “I think you might recognize these.”

  Delia stared at him in bewilderment, before sitting up with a cushion behind her back. She gasped when she saw the faded lettering in her handwriting. “My letters to you?” she asked. “You kept them? All these years?”

  He nodded his assent to all her questions. “They, as you, were always precious to me. I never had the heart to throw them away. I … never stopped loving you.” He smiled as she opened one of the envelopes with the utmost care.

  “Have you read them again already?” Her tear-filled gaze met his, and he shook his head.

  “No, love,” he murmured, kissing her palm. “I thought we should read them together.”

  She nodded, pulling out a letter now yellowed with time. After clearing her throat, she read in a wavering voice, “My darling Aidan. Oh, how I miss you. Oh, how I wish I could hold you in my arms and kiss you one more time. You have been gone for a month now, and I have no idea if this letter will even reach you, but I pray it will. It is summer here in Boston, and you know what that means. Hot, humid weather with little breeze. The neighborhood stinks of rotting food, horse droppings, and cabbages. Always cabbages. Even in winter, cabbages.”

  Delia paused as she giggled. “I can’t believe I wasted time complaining about that.” She met Aidan’s amused gaze. After a moment she continued to read. “My mother is doing well, although I always worry she will take a turn for the worse. Thankfully I believe that is a concern for another day. I ran into your sister-in-law and her three boys last week, and they were respectful and lovely, just like you always said. We were at the butchers, and I heard her called Mrs. McLeod. When she called to two of her sons as Richard and Jeremy, I knew she had to be your relations. I wish they knew how much I care for you, but I understand your desire for discretion.

  I cross off every day on the calendar that you are away. Still, November seems so distant. I miss you, my love.

  Yours forever,

  Delia

  She swiped at a tear and rested the letter on her lap. “It’s hard to read this and to not become angry at the young woman I was. I wish I could talk to her and tell her to have more sense. To find a way to avert that horrible argument we had. To prevent those years of separation.”

  Aidan frowned as he ran a hand over her head. “My darling, I never meant for these letters to cause you pain. I thought they’d bring you joy, as they do me. They show me that our love survived. That it triumphed, even after our horrible fight and years of disillusionment. We trusted in love again.” He kissed her softly. “And I, for one, will always be thankful for the young woman you were. You taught me to laugh, to see the beauty in every day, to hope. To love.”

  “Oh, Aidan,” she whispered, as she set the packet of letters on the ground. She scooted back on the sofa and reached for him to join her on it. “I need you to hold me.”

  He smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * *

  That evening Zylphia watched as Teddy stood staring out the glass windows of the conservatory in her parents’ mansion, his shoulders taut and his gaze distant. Although surprised at the rather simple citizenship ceremony with little fanfare, she had seen the official document proclaiming Theodore Archibald Goff a citizen of the United States of America. Her frown deepened as he appeared to feel no joy at the day’s event.

  She turned to smile encouragingly in her mother’s direction, leaning against her mother’s side for a moment. “I can hardly be
lieve that, with a judge’s decree, I will be considered an American again,” she murmured. “The lawyer says it will take a few weeks before everything is formalized.” Her smile was tinged with triumph. “If we get the vote by the November elections, I will stand beside you.”

  Delia squeezed her and smiled. “You know the question of your citizenship never bothered your father and me overmuch. You married a wonderful man.” Her worried gaze flitted to Teddy, and her brows furrowed. “I hope he is at peace with his decision.”

  Zylphia watched as her father studied Teddy but also left him to ruminate. “Will you and Father give Teddy and me a few moments?” She watched as her mother ushered her father from the room, leaving her and Teddy alone. She knew he was deep in thought as the closing door did not evoke a reaction. “Teddy,” she murmured when she approached. When she touched his arm, he jumped. “Teddy, my love.”

  He turned to smile at her, pulling her into his embrace. “Zee, darling,” he whispered against her temple. “Forgive me. I’ve been …” He shrugged.

  She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Do you regret what you did today?”

  He soothed her with a caress down her back and a murmur in her ear. “No, my love. Never. But it has made me introspective. I’m thinking about all the time I spent in England. Of Lawrence.” He held her closer when he mentioned his twin brother who had died when he was a boy from measles. “I’ve lived here for years. I should be a citizen of this country.”

  She thought through the day and then asked, “Did you receive a letter?” When he stiffened, she leaned away from him. “You did, didn’t you?”

  He shook his head. “No, although my father rang me when we returned from the small ceremony. You had gone upstairs.” His eyes shone with anger. “He was irate that his attempt to dissuade me from my chosen course had failed.”

  “Why should he believe he’d have any influence over your decision, when he’s shown such blatant disinterest in your life for years?” Her blue eyes blazed with loyalty as she held him tight. She knew she could not protect him from his parents’ callous disregard, but she wanted to. “Are you all right?”

  He pulled her close and chuckled. “I am because I have you in my arms. You, who are loyal and brave and loving. How could I not show you the same fealty?” He caressed her cheek, then swiped a tear off her satiny skin. “I do not regret what I did. I regret the rancor it has provoked in my family.” He took a deep breath. “And I fear I’ve been disinherited.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “They, who only have money to pass on to the next generation because you saved them, would dare to spurn you now?”

  He nodded. “I’m no longer considered a member of either of my parents’ families.”

  She let out a deep breath of anger as she cupped his jaw and stood on her toes to better meet his gaze, hers filled with anguish. “Oh, Teddy. I’m sorry. I never meant—”

  He shook his head as he lowered his to rest his forehead against hers. “You didn’t. They did. Every chance they’ve had to show charity, to show understanding, to show love, they’ve chosen instead to be spiteful and mean and small.” His silver eyes shone with vulnerability. “I’ve always felt as though the McLeods were the family I wished I’d had.”

  “We are. You know how much my parents adore you,” she said, hugging him close. “I never realized all you’d lose because …” She broke off.

  “Because I love you?” he whispered, his voice forming a question. “I haven’t lost a thing, Zee. It’s their misfortune, and they are too small-minded to realize what they’ve lost.” He ran his hands over her hair, tangling his fingers in her black tresses. “I’ve gained love and passion and my best friend.” His eyes shone with sincerity. “I have not lost anything.”

  He pulled her close another moment, cherishing holding her in his arms before following her to the formal sitting room to rejoin Delia and Aidan to celebrate the momentous day.

  * * *

  Lucas walked past row after row of headstones. His mood soured the farther he ventured into the cemetery. A few trees granted shade from the blistering sun, and he noted a yellow finch flittering in and out of the tree branches. He smiled, as he knew how much Savannah and Melly loved birds and listening to them trill. As he approached their headstones, his pace slowed. Suddenly he stared at them, and his eyes filled.

  Melinda McLeod

  Beloved Daughter

  Nov 25, 1900 - September 17, 1918

  Savannah McLeod

  Beloved Wife, Mother, and Daughter

  March 15, 1877 - October 12, 1918

  Lucas stared at Savannah’s headstone. “And sister,” he whispered as he swiped at his cheek. “Always a sister.” He dropped to his knees, yanking out a few weeds that had sprung up around the headstones. The work gave him purpose, and he began to talk to her. “I’m here in Boston, Sav. I’ll perform with Perry, and then we will tour around the US. If it is successful, we might go abroad. I think Vivie would like Europe, and I’m sure Ro would too. We refuse to travel without our wives and children.”

  He smiled. “I’m sure you would approve of that. You always wanted me to find someone I didn’t want to leave behind. Someone I loved so much that I couldn’t imagine months separated from her. And I have that with Vivie. I’m so delighted you adored her too.” He paused, moving to sit on his bum, his arms over his knees, as he stared at her grave.

  “I can’t believe this is where you are. Sophie tells me that I’m a fool. That you’re with me here.” He tapped at his heart. “And I know you are. You’re with me every day. Every day I find something I want to share with you. Something to make you laugh or smile or roll your eyes at. Every day I wish I could ask your advice.”

  He took a deep breath. “Jeremy is finding love again, Sav, just like you asked. I think at first he tried simply because you asked, but now I think he loves this woman named Eleanor for her sake.” He paused, thinking about the woman who would be a part of Savannah’s husband’s life. “She’s good with Breandan.” He smiled. “He grows so much every time I see him. He’s so curious about the world, and he looks like a little Jeremy, except he has your eyes. You would have adored him, Sav. And he would have adored you.”

  He swiped at his eyes. “I miss you, Sav. I’ll miss you every day until the day I die. Thank you for being such a wonderful sister. Thank you for encouraging me to follow my heart and to dare to dream about being a pianist. Thank you for …” His voice broke off and then he whispered, “everything.”

  He rose, kissing his fingers and then touching the headstone. “I’ll love you forever.”

  He turned on his heel and walked away without a second glance, tears coursing down his cheeks.

  * * *

  Lucas stood in front of the crowd at the Opera House, handsome in his tuxedo with his brown hair slicked back with pomade. The piano stood in the shadows behind him as he approached the edge of the stage and spoke in a loud, carrying voice. “Thank you for your welcome. It’s it wondrous to be home in Boston again.” He smiled, and the crowd gave a small roar of applause before quieting. “As you know, the majority of the evening has been pieces that highlight Perry’s talent as well as my own. However, I beg your indulgence for this next piece.”

  He paused and looked down, composing his thoughts, his emotions. “The last time I was in Boston was October 1918.” He nodded, many in the audience taking a deep breath, instinctively understanding what that date meant. “My sister was in town, and she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Unfortunately, soon after his birth, she died from the influenza.” He cleared his throat. “I would like to perform for you a piece I wrote for her.”

  He backed away from the edge of the stage, the Opera House deathly quiet, each step on the stage echoing through the space. He sat at the piano and cleared his throat as he stretched his fingers over the keys, the lighting edging brighter and brighter on this spot. After taking a pair of deep breaths, he lowered his head to fully focus. Finally his
fingers met the keys, and soft notes emerged.

  Throughout the fifteen-minute piece, he played as though he were the only person in the room. As though Savannah were sitting beside him on his bench, all those years ago, after she ran away from Jonas, coaxing Lucas to play. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he fought memories and focused on his music. Soft sweeping notes for the sweetness of her as a girl filled with innocent hope. A harsh jarring movement representative of her life with Jonas and her struggle to free herself. And then finally, a long and melodious movement to indicate her life with Jeremy and Melly. At the end, he repeated a sweet high-pitched note five times, as though a bell tolling the hour of her death.

  Lucas removed his hands from the keys, rolling his shoulders. He heaved out a breath at the deafening silence, his head bowed that he had failed Savannah and his attempt at a memorial for her. Suddenly a fan yelled, “Bravo!” and a deafening wave of applause washed over him.

  He stumbled to his feet and stared out at the crowd, his amazed gaze attempting to comprehend the overwhelming ovation. He saw men and women surreptitiously swiping at their cheeks, and he bowed. He held a hand to his heart and bowed again, leaving the stage with cries for “Encore!”

  * * *

  “Lucas!” Zylphia shrieked, as she raced toward him in the back room of the Opera House reserved for family or close friends they considered family. Perry and Lucas had no desire for hangers-on to mingle in the back with them after the show. Zylphia threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh, thank you.”

  “It was acceptable?” he asked.

  “Acceptable?” she asked with an incredulous shake of her head. “It was marvelous. Awe-inspiring.” She blinked as she fought tears. “The most wondrous memorial to your sister.” She gripped his arm and stepped aside.

 

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