“And what is that?” Delia demanded, anger lighting her eyes at Zylphia’s resigned tone. “A brave woman, willing to fight for others’ rights and her own? A brilliant artist?” Delia’s jaw firmed with her ire. “I hope you know better than to limit your sense of self due to your youth spent at the orphanage.”
“It has repercussions, Mother. I’m not like the other women I meet.”
“No, you aren’t, thank God.” Delia smiled as she swiped a hand down the side of her daughter’s cheek and rested it on her shoulder. “Zylphia, I can’t promise you nothing will happen to your father or to me—or any other person. That this house will always be here. Life is precarious. Which is why it is precious. Yet I can promise that you’ll never be without those who love and cherish you.”
Zylphia leaned forward, hugging her mother. “I know.” She leaned away. “I want to be of some use for the movement, but I hate the thought of leaving right now.”
“There’s never a good time for leave-taking, Zee.” She squeezed Zylphia’s hand before she gave a small groan as she rose. “I’m getting too old to kneel on floors.”
Zylphia chuckled and gripped her mother’s hand for a moment. “Thank you, Mother.”
Delia gently squeezed hers and left, closing the door softly behind her as Zylphia remained lost in thought.
Aidan sat in his comfortable chair in the family parlor, reading the newspaper, a low fire burning in the grate. Delia grumbled over paperwork from the orphanage at her desk, and Zylphia lay curled on a settee, a book held in her hands for show, staring into space. Every few lines of the paper he read, Aidan would glance toward his daughter, frowning more fiercely as he noted her mood.
“Your mother tells me that you’re to travel to Montana to aid in canvassing for the vote,” he said, setting aside the paper and the disturbing news about the Saint Martin in the Fields church bombing the day before in London—with British suffragettes the main suspects. He pointed at the paper even though she was unable to see the article. “I hope you’ll continue to focus on nonviolent ways to achieve your goals.”
Zylphia rolled her eyes at her father. “How many times must I tell you that I don’t condone violence?” Then she smiled at her father. “Would you mind if I traveled to Montana soon?”
“Of course I’ll mind. I hate it when you are away from home. However, I think it will be good for you and important for you to feel a more active participant in the movement you espouse.” He shared a look with Delia. “Will Mr. Hubbard miss you?”
“I doubt it. He’s not truly interested in me but you. I wish men could court each other and leave us poor women alone,” Zylphia grumbled, provoking a startled gasp from Delia and a snicker from Aidan.
“I wouldn’t say that outside this room,” Aidan said as he controlled his mirth. “Although I understand your sentiment. I imagine women tire of feeling like pawns in men’s games.”
Zylphia grunted her agreement. “It would solve a lot of problems.” She shared a smile with her father.
“Not all men are as bad as you make them out to be,” Aidan murmured. He studied her as her gaze became distant again. “And not all men are what they appear.”
Zylphia nodded absently and curled up further into herself on the settee.
29
Teddy sat in his third-floor study at the back of his parents’ large house. A fire warmed the room and lent a gentle glow. One lamp was lit, next to his leather chair, and he stretched out his legs to rest his stockinged feet on the matching ottoman. His mother was at a function, while his father remained in New York City. Teddy studied the financial section of the newspaper, jotting down notes for investments for the following day. He heard a commotion two floors down, then silence.
After a few moments, he focused on the newspaper again, idly raising a glass of whiskey for a sip. He stiffened as he heard the doors on the hall open and shut, and turned toward his study door as it slammed open.
Zylphia stood there, panting and vibrating with fury, her ice-blue wool coat covered in a light sheen of moisture from the early April evening mist.
Teddy rose, waiving away the butler who reached forward to extract Zylphia from his master’s private sanctuary. “Leave us,” he commanded the butler, who nodded and shut the door with a loud click. “Zee?” He walked toward her. “Are you all right? Has something happened?”
“How could you, Teddy?” Zylphia asked as she slapped him across his cheek.
His head reared to one side, and he stumbled back a step, bumping into the ottoman.
She advanced on him, ready to pounce. “How could you?”
He narrowed his eyes at her shrieklike wail. “I don’t know of what you accuse me, Zee. Please calm down and explain why you’ve barged into my private study and attacked me.”
“Don’t act innocent. Don’t act as though you didn’t enjoy gossiping with your friends about poor, pathetic Zylphia. Raised among the gutter scum in the orphanage.” She pounded on his chest with her fists, her hair falling from its pins with her erratic movement. “I trusted you!”
He gripped her hands, only releasing them when she struggled with such ferocity he feared she’d harm herself.
She collapsed to the ground, silent sobs heaving forth, her shoulders shaking. She bent over herself, her face burrowed into her knees.
He knelt beside her and ran a featherlight caress over her head, shoulders and back. “I never betrayed you.” His whispered avowal failed to penetrate her sorrow as she sobbed.
He settled beside her, groaning slightly as he maneuvered her to settle between his legs. Rather than the expected fight and show of bravado, she curled into him, sobbing into his neck.
“What did they say, my darling girl?” He kissed the top of her head, her eyebrow and her temple, while running a soothing hand over her shoulder and back.
She rubbed her face into his shirt, soaking it with her tears. After a few minutes she calmed and spoke in a halting voice. “A few of the men learned I’d spent my youth in the orphanage. How it wasn’t until later my father returned, when I changed my name from Maidstone to McLeod. They intimated I was like my mother, eager to trap a wealthy man any way I could.” Her voice faltered. “They said any father as wealthy as mine who refused to provide a dowry was either ashamed or not my real father.”
He groaned. “You know that’s not true, Zee. You know your father’s proud of all you do.” He stroked a hand over her head, kissing it, imparting all possible comfort.
She shivered in his arms as the aftereffects of crying and rage faded.
When a few minutes had passed, and she grew calmer, he whispered, “What did they do to you?”
She shook her head, rubbing her cheeks against his shirt, her breaths coming out in stuttering exhalations. “They cornered me, propelled me into a back room.” She tilted her head to meet his horrified gaze. “I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do.”
“What happened?” His voice emerged as an angry hiss.
“I kneed one of them and stomped on another’s foot, as my cousin Richard taught me.” She flushed as his eyes shone with pride.
“What did they call you?” He pushed her away enough so he could meet her gaze and rub her forehead and cheek with his thumb.
She turned her face into his palm and kissed it. “The daughter of a who—” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I can’t say that word in any relation to my mother. It’s not true! She’s a good woman.”
“You’re right. It’s not true. They’re just men being cruel.” He pulled her more tightly against him.
“They said it was my nature, and I shouldn’t fight it. That I was a fraud, dressed in fine materials when I should be on their elbows in Scollay Square, passed from one to the other.” She shivered. “How did they know?” Zylphia asked, shuddering a few more times against him.
“Not from me. I imagine one of them discovered a small kernel of your true story, and they extrapolated from there. Your reaction would only have been
a confirmation for them.”
“I don’t know how to play by those rules. How to act as though I were emotionless with ice coursing through my veins.” She rubbed her face once more against his shirt, sighing with relief and pleasure. She turned up her face, kissing the underside of his chin, evoking a quiver from him.
“Thank God you don’t. That’s not who you are or the woman I want.” He kissed below her ear, earning a different sort of shudder.
“Teddy,” she whispered.
“Was Owen one of the men?” he asked, his warm breath on her neck eliciting another tremor.
“Yes. Except for Owen, they were men I didn’t know but were good friends of his. Owen took tremendous pleasure in causing me pain.” She arched back to meet his gaze. “Why? I thought he was my friend.”
“His father and your father recently had a disagreement about business. It cost Owen and his father quite a bit of money and embarrassed Owen, while earning your father a tidy fortune.” He sighed. “I’m afraid the knowledge of you not having a dowry wasn’t as much of a secret as you’d hoped. Owen found out, and I’d heard him complaining to friends in one of the gentlemen rooms at a recent function.” He stroked a hand over her riotous hair before easing her away.
“Let’s get you comfortable,” he murmured. He caressed her shoulder for a minute before slipping his hand under the collar of her coat. He eased it off her shoulders, leaving it pooled around them on the floor. He watched her with a fierce intensity for any sign of resistance, but she smiled as she was freed from her outerwear and moved to be closer to him again.
“Why should he want to hurt me for it?” Zylphia quivered for a moment as she adjusted to the room temperature without her coat.
“To hurt you is to hurt your father. No matter what his friends said or he intimated, he knows how much your father loves you.” Teddy tugged her back into his arms. He sighed with contentment as she curled into him. He stifled a moan when she kissed the underside of his jaw.
“Zee”—he kissed the side of her neck—“tell me to stop if I’m offending you.” When she pressed closer and ran her hands over his back, he clasped her even more tightly to him. “I’m afraid Owen desired your father’s influence and dowry. After the business actions of this week, he must have realized he’d have neither and lashed out.”
“I never thought he’d act in such a way,” Zylphia said on a sigh as she tilted her head to one side, allowing Teddy to kiss under her ear.
“For some, money and social prestige are of the utmost concern.” He kissed her again along her neck, moving toward her collarbone.
“What is your priority?”
“Pleasing you.” Teddy raised passion-filled eyes to her and brushed her hair away from her face. “Tell me what you want, love.”
“To be with you,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him softly, groaning in frustration when he eased away from her. She sighed with relief as he deftly unbuttoned the back of her dress. It gaped open, and he pushed it down her arms to her waist. He raised a large hand to cup her cheek. “Trust me?”
“Yes.” Zylphia’s breath hitched as he brushed his hand over her chest.
He kissed her, each subsequent kiss deeper than the previous. All the while he worked on the ties to her corset, easing it away as they kissed. He raised a palm, cupping her breast covered in light linen, and she gasped with pleasure. “Let me,” he pleaded, lowering his head. He paused, waiting for her acquiescence. “Zee?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes, to see her head thrown back, a look of unbridled pleasure on her face.
She then focused on him, ran a hand over his face, tracing his lips. “Please,” she whispered.
He groaned, moving forward to suckle and kiss her. She arched back and felt like she was falling, but, rather than tumble to the ground like she had the day she’d visited his private art gallery, Teddy eased her to the carpet, all the while kissing and caressing her.
He pushed aside her dress and corset, leaving her bared to his gaze. “Tell me that you don’t want me. Tell me to stop,” he said, bending forward to kiss her collarbone.
“Teddy,” she moaned, curving up to meet his caresses. “Please. Don’t stop.”
He shucked his shirt, lowering his naked torso to hers, rubbing against her. “You know what this means.”
“Yes. That I’m more like my mother than I thought.” Zylphia ran her hands over his bare back, growling in frustration when she reached his pants. “Please, Teddy.”
“We can never turn back from this, Zee,” he whispered as he kissed her under her ear. He lifted up, shucking his pants. He moved over her, grasping her face between his palms, kissing her deeply. He swallowed her whimper of pain, then her cry of pleasure, gifting her with his gasps of ecstasy as he lost himself in the pleasure of being with her.
Teddy lay on his back with Zylphia curled in his arms. She stirred, and he held her more tightly to him. “No, love. There’s no need for you to leave yet.” He kissed the top of her forehead, unable to hide a contented smile.
She relaxed into his hold, her breathing deepening as though she were falling asleep. “Teddy?”
Her muffled exhalation tickled the hair on his chest. “Hmm?” He traced a lazy pattern on her shoulder, tangling his fingers in her long hair. When she didn’t speak again, he continued to caress her back and hip. She groaned as she moved, and he winced. “I’m sorry I hurt you, love. I hope you know I’d never intentionally cause you pain.” He kissed her head again. “It won’t hurt like that again.”
Zylphia reared up, nearly knocking her head into his. “I have to leave. I can’t be found here like this. What would your parents think?”
Teddy sat up, stroking the silky skin of her shoulders to soothe her. “Zee, no one comes in here. This is my private study on the floor only I live on.” He kissed her shoulder. “My mother would be shocked, but I’ll talk her round.”
“What do you mean?”
He gazed into Zylphia’s luminous eyes. “My mother has always imagined I’d marry a daughter of a duke or some such nonsense. It will take a little effort to convince her that she must set aside those dreams and accept mine.”
Zylphia lowered her eyes, becoming increasingly tense as he spoke. “I don’t wish to come between you and your parents.”
He huffed out a laugh at her whispered words. “You couldn’t.”
Zylphia sighed, her shoulders remaining rigid. She glanced around the room, her eyes widening with momentary pleasure as she saw the painting she’d given him. “I didn’t think you’d kept it.”
“Of course I kept it. I treasure it. As I treasure every memory I have of our time together.”
Zylphia rocked back, distancing herself farther from him. She grasped her chemise and held it against her chest. “I know this was rash, and I should never have come. I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression about me. That I’ve proved your friends correct about my origins.”
“Anyone who slanders you is no friend of mine,” he growled. “Zee, what happened here between us was inevitable. It’s been coming since the day I found you injured on the cliff walk last July.”
“I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that.” Her bright blue eyes shone even brighter as her skin paled. She pulled her hair forward, covering her chest with her disheveled locks.
“Why?” His soft voice, meant to soothe, inflamed her anxiety.
“Because I have free will. The ability to choose my destiny, and what I will and won’t do.”
He grinned at her, reaching forward to trace her furrowed eyebrow. “Of course you do. You executed it this evening when you pleaded with me to make love with you.” He leaned forward, kissing her on her lips. He backed away with a confused frown when she failed to respond to his touch.
“I was overwhelmed with what was being said about me. About what I truly felt.” She scooted away from Teddy, away from his soothing caresses.
“Are you saying you don’t envision a future together?�
��
“You know I’ve never seen myself as a wife. A mother.”
“Because you’ve never allowed yourself to imagine what could be. You’re too focused on the hurts from your past to be able to look forward.”
“I refuse to allow anyone to control what I want or do.” Zylphia searched for her clothes, tugging her dress to her lap, blushing when she saw a singed stocking peeking out from the edge of the fireplace.
“You think so little of me that you believe I’d want to control you?” Teddy hissed, reaching for his pants and slipping them on. He rose, buttoning them deftly, staring down at her, covered in her heap of clothing.
She stood, holding her disheveled evening dress before her, shivering now that the fire had burned low and she was no longer in the warmth of his embrace. “It’s always about what you want me to be. What you need me to be. What about what I want? What I need? Have you ever considered that?” She stomped her foot in agitation.
His irate countenance softened. “Here’s what I know, Zylphia McLeod. You love to paint. You paint with an unbridled passion, as though you can’t hold in what you are compelled to express. You are fiercely loyal to those you love, although you’re reluctant to allow anyone to show you the love and loyalty you so freely give. You fight against injustice. You believe women have the same rights as men. And you are terrified of ever depending on another.”
Zylphia’s eyes filled with insistent tears. “That’s not fair,” she whispered.
“I love you, Zee. The woman strong enough to forgive her father for inadvertently abandoning her to be raised in an orphanage for more than half of her life. The woman passionate enough to withstand mistreatment from a drunken crowd in Washington, DC, as you proclaimed your beliefs. The woman brave enough to enter the vicious circle of polite society.”
She looked away, hugging her clothes tighter to her chest. She took a deep breath, as though forestalling a sob.
“I’d never want you to be anything other than who you are, Zee.” He reached forward to run a hand over her head, cringing when she recoiled from his touch. “I’d never want you to change for me.”
Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four Page 32