“Oh, Zee,” Sophie breathed, paling. “I’ve never met a young woman with such a rash tongue.”
“I know. He even attempted to determine if it was my fear speaking or what I truly felt, and I lashed out even more. I felt cornered, and I was terrified.”
Sophie gripped her hand. “Did he in any way force you to intimacy?”
“No!” Zylphia rushed beet red. “No. I knew it wasn’t proper, but I acted in such a manner, regardless of propriety. It was”—her gaze became distant as she remembered soft caresses, gentle murmurs and an overwhelming passion from that evening—“wonderful.”
“Good,” Sophie said with a resolute tap to Zylphia’s hand. “That’s as it should be.”
Zylphia took a deep breath as a pair of tears tracked down her cheeks. “He asked me to marry him. Now or ten years from now. He said he’d wait for me.”
“He sounds like a man who cares deeply for you. What are you afraid of?”
“I know he’ll realize his good fortune that I turned him down. I couldn’t bear to be there when he realized he was trapped with me. I couldn’t do that to him.” She looked at Sophie with pleading eyes, as though begging her to understand.
Sophie smiled with tenderness. “Darling, he’s as much a social misfit as you are. He’s only accepted in society because he’s such a brilliant financier.”
“What?” Zylphia gaped at Sophie. “He tinkers all day with meaningless experiments.”
“It’s how he clears his head to figure out what stocks to support or what schemes to back. And I wouldn’t discount his experiments. I’m sure one of them will alter our lives someday. As is, he’s one of the preeminent financial men of the time.”
“How can this be? Why does no one speak of it? And why would he be here rather than in New York City?”
“Because he’s taciturn at worst and sullen at best when in society. He’s only appeared remotely approaching conventional norms of behavior when near you. He had planned to move to New York City after last summer, but then changed his plans.” She shared a meaningful look with Zylphia.
“You’re wrong, Sophie,” Zylphia argued as her mind whirled with snippets of conversations. “His father is the genius.”
Sophie scowled. “His father allows his son to be mocked, while basking in his brilliance. Every morning Teddy’s assistant sends a telegraph with the approved stock trades to Teddy’s father, who executes them, accepting the credit.”
“How do you know this?”
“I heard him advising Owen Hubbard in Newport, and I commented that it seemed unlikely an absentminded scientist would have much to offer by way of business acumen.” Sophie smiled as she remembered that interaction. “When I pressed Teddy on a few stock picks I was likely to execute, he became haughty, as only the upper-class British can, before losing his polished veneer. He was appalled at my ineptitude, as he called it, and offered to help me with my portfolio.”
“Did he?”
“Yes, quite successfully. He prevented me from investing in a horrible scheme that would have cost me a large portion of my fortune. Instead I doubled it.”
“You mean, Teddy did.”
Sophie shrugged her shoulders in agreement.
Zylphia leaned against the settee, her gaze distant. “Why did you never tell me about this aspect of Teddy? Why did you allow me to believe him a scientist who tinkered away his time each day?”
Sophronia sighed. “You needed to discover it yourself. For, if I had told you and then you had appeared interested, he would have thought you were only after his fortune.” Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Which is quite considerable. He’s saved his family in England from almost certain insolvency.”
Zylphia shuddered. “When I think of all the cruel things I’ve said to him and how many times he’s told me that I didn’t truly know him …” She closed her eyes in defeated resignation. “He listed all the things he loved about me that night. Things that only someone who knew me well would know. And I’d never taken the time to learn more about him.”
Sophronia squinted as she studied Zylphia. “If you truly don’t want to marry him and truly don’t care for him, I don’t see how that should bother you.”
“I don’t feel the indifference and scorn I expressed that evening.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I fear I love him.”
“It’s nothing to fear. It’s something to be cherished and embraced.” Sophie’s smile became broader as she watched Zylphia accepting her feelings. “I’d tell that young man how you feel, rather than this old woman.”
“I can’t barge into his laboratory today, telling him I lied. He’d think I was a deranged woman who can’t make up her mind.”
“You have to do something to inform him that your sentiments are different than those you expressed.” Sophie’s gaze became distant.
“Thank you, Sophie.”
“What will you do if there is a child?” Sophie raised an eyebrow as Zylphia blushed.
“There won’t be.” She shared a meaningful glance with Sophie. “You can imagine my relief when my monthly came a few days ago.”
“A lucky break,” Sophie said.
“Yes. Besides, I’d hate for him to think I only wanted him because there’d been consequences from that night.”
“Whether or not you’re with his child, there are consequences, dearest. To your spirit. To his.” Sophie watched Zylphia with intense sincerity for a moment. “Don’t make him wait too long before you contact him.”
Zylphia danced with Mr. Wheeler, her dance card half full for the first time in a month. “I’m surprised to see you anywhere near Miss Tyler.” Zylphia smiled her apology as she tripped over his toes. He grimaced but tried to hide it with a chuckle.
“She and I have never agreed on anything. She’s a deviant woman who refuses to embrace social norms for women. I attempt, in my small capacity as an old family friend, to enlighten her as to the errors she is making in her behavior.”
Zylphia stifled a laugh. “I can’t imagine Miss Tyler appreciating such counsel.”
He smiled with grim humor. “She doesn’t.” He studied Zylphia. “You were able to throw off the mantle of the suffragist twaddle. I’d think you’d be able to help Parthena be successful with the same.”
Zylphia flushed and then laughed. “It seems I fooled you all. I’ve never ceased in my beliefs for women. I simply decided to not be as strident in my expression of my beliefs to see if I could sway others to my way of thinking.”
“I imagine you weren’t all that successful,” Mr. Wheeler said as they danced.
“Not at all.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, unable to withhold a deep laugh. “I wish I could have seen Mr. Hubbard’s reaction when he realized you were as radical as ever.”
Zylphia’s eyes flashed. “I, too, wish you’d been present.”
Mr. Wheeler sobered immediately. “Did he harm you in any way, Miss McLeod?”
“No, but it was a singularly unpleasant scene.”
He twirled with her one last time as the waltz ended. “I’m sure you’ll come to realize your good fortune. It was a pleasure, Miss McLeod.” He walked her to the side of the ballroom, lifted her hand for a kiss and then nodded before turning to disappear in the dense crowd.
Zylphia stood alone on the side of the room, swaying slightly to the music. She looked for a passing tray of drinks and sighed with frustration to see the servants were on the opposite side.
“Why the heavy sigh, Miss McLeod?”
Zylphia closed her eyes at the deep voice, breathing in sandalwood and a faint hint of peppermint. “Teddy,” she whispered. A firm hand at her back dissuaded her from turning to face him.
“Don’t call me that.”
She reached a hand down, brushing at the side of her rose-colored overskirt. “How are you?”
He stiffened as her hand brushed against his leg. His dropped from her back to clasp her hand, transforming from a grip of chastisement to a care
ss in a moment. “Zee …” He sighed, his breath sounding closer to her ear.
She swayed—to an onlooker as though she were reacting to the music—but, rather than from side to side, she moved backward nearly into Teddy’s embrace before moving forward again. She repeated the movement a half-dozen times before she realized what she was doing and swayed side to side. “I’ve missed you.”
He squeezed her hand once before releasing it. “I hope you are finding enjoyment in tonight’s entertainment. You seem to bask in the attention from your previous dance partners.”
She froze. “I like to dance.”
“You appear to enjoy dancing attendance on the most eligible men present.”
She shivered at the rancor she heard in his voice. “Why are you here?”
“I know I promised to never approach you.”
“No, you didn’t.” She smiled and nodded at an acquaintance across the room while she clenched and unclenched her fingers hidden in her skirts.
“I did to myself.”
She stifled a gasp, as though suffering bodily harm.
“Forgive me if my bluntness has hurt you, but there is one thing I must know.”
She nodded, portraying some enjoyment in an engaging conversation. All the while she blinked furiously to forestall tears from falling.
“Were there any consequences?” he breathed into her ear.
Zylphia choked back a sob. “So honorable. The only reason you could force yourself to reenter society and deign to speak with me in over a month. The only reason why you could no longer avoid my letters. Has it given you pleasure to return them to me, unopened? Do you sit in your study, envisioning what I feel each time I receive my sealed letters you refuse to read?”
“There’s very little left for us to say. I’ve no need of you or your letters.”
Zylphia flinched at his cold words. She moved to the side to turn and meet his eyes. She battled despair as she met his cold gaze, devoid of all its customary affection. “No. No, there were no consequences,” she whispered.
“I can’t imagine my refusal to read your letters caused you any true disappointment, Miss McLeod.” His pursed lips relaxed although the desolation in his gray eyes remained. “I bid you a pleasant evening.”
She reached forward, gripping his hand a moment, laughing as though he’d just told her a joke. “Don’t leave, Teddy. These events are horrid without you. There’s so much I want to—”
His eyes flashed with a deep hurt before kindling with anger, and he cut her off. “This is how it must be, Miss McLeod. You don’t want me as anything other than a momentary diversion, and I can’t be what you need.”
Zylphia paled as words similar to what she’d said to him were repeated to her. “Teddy, please. Listen to me.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “You won’t read my letters, and I have to explain—”
“Why would I be interested in anything you have to say? You were quite eloquent last we met.” His eyes chilled as he stood stiffly next to her. “My only consolation is that your incessant letters will cease with your travel to Montana." At her startled gaze, his smile appeared a mixture of triumph and sorrow. "Yes, even a lab rat can learn some gossip."
“Teddy, please, you must understand …”
“Good evening, Miss McLeod.” His eyes roamed over her, as though memorizing her, before he took a small step backward.
She nodded, blinking rapidly to prevent her tears from falling, as he gave a perfunctory bow and slipped along the periphery of the crowd, disappearing from sight.
Zylphia stood on the promenade overlooking the Charles River, a warm May breeze hinting at summer ruffling her hair and jacket. She leaned forward, resting the top portion of her body against the metal railing. The scene from last night with Teddy played through her mind, but each time she edited it so that he was forced to listen to her. After a month of waiting, of hoping to see him, of a growing anger as each letter was returned unopened, a restless purpose filled her. Determined to remain inactive no longer, she turned for home on nearby Marlborough Street, with a plan forming. “If he refuses my letters, I’ll invade his lab,” she muttered to herself, the thought putting a small spring in her step for the first time since she had last left Teddy’s private study.
She arrived home, smiling at the eager welcome of their butler, Jimmy. She stopped at the small mound of mail on the front hallstand, picking up a few pieces addressed to her. She came to an abrupt halt when she saw Teddy’s distinctive, brusque handwriting.
After ascending the stairs, she entered her studio, closing the door behind her. She curled onto the red velvet chaise and ripped open the letter.
May 17, 1914
Miss McLeod,
Please forgive me for causing you any further distress by writing. I realize now, after your blunt refusal to envision a future with me and knowing that no consequences came from our foolish behavior, that I must move on. That any hope I held for you was a fantasy I had built from my own imaginings.
I fear you might feel uncomfortable, worrying we might pass each other on the street or meet at a ball at a mutual friend’s house. I would like to alleviate such a concern. Although I had planned to remain in Boston, working on my inventions, my grandfather is ill. By the time you read this, I will have sailed for England, with no plans to return until at least the fall.
I know you envision an independent life. One where you are free to determine what you want, moment by moment. Where you decide who and what you need. My hope is that you do not come to realize how lonely such a life can be.
I loved you. I love you still.
Theodore Goff
She reread the letter over and over, tears coursing down her cheeks. She traced the words telling her how he loved her, only stopping when she feared she’d smudge them. After carefully folding the letter, she rose, placing it in her keepsake rosewood box on a bookshelf corner. She returned to the chaise longue, curling on her side as she succumbed to tears.
31
Missoula, Montana, June 1914
“Zee!”
Zylphia swiveled, dropped her bag, turning to where she heard her name. She raised a hand, then bent to lift her bag again and rushed toward the crowd on the platform. “Jeremy,” she said, leaning into his embrace. “I can’t believe I’m finally here.”
“How was your journey?” he asked, taking her day bag before leading her toward the side of the railway station. He spoke with a porter for a moment, and then moved toward a horse and wagon. “I imagine you don’t mind stretching your legs after days on the train. If we wait a few minutes, they’ll bring out your trunks.” He nodded to the young woman trailing after Zee, and shared a rueful smile with Zylphia.
“You wouldn’t expect my father to allow me to travel alone?” She rolled her eyes. “She’s intended to be my maid, but I’ll find something else of use for her to do here.” She smiled as Jeremy laughed.
Zylphia arched her back as she stretched out her body, long cramped by her travels. She looked at the distant mountains and hills, shimmering a golden green as the recent heat burned off the spring’s moisture. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Yes, in its way,” Jeremy said. “It’s much smaller than what you’re used to in Boston.”
“How far away is Butte?” Zylphia asked.
Jeremy pointed toward a canyon in the direction she’d just arrived from. “About one hundred miles that way. I’m sure you passed through it on your way here.”
“I fell asleep for a good portion of the latter part of my journey and missed a few of the stops.” Zylphia smiled at the porter as he emerged with her two trunks and her maid’s trunk. After Jeremy and the porter loaded the trunks, Jeremy helped Zylphia and her maid climb into the horse-drawn wagon, and they began the short journey to his house.
“I thought you’d have an automobile by now,” Zylphia teased.
“We do, but it’s always breaking down or getting stuck in the muddied roads after a rain or the snowmelt. A horse is rel
iable.” Jeremy nodded to his left and a large brick building spanning half a city block. “That there’s the Merc. Anything you need, you can buy at the Merc, or they’ll find a way to have it shipped here for you.”
The wagon clattered over a bridge, and they crossed into a newer section of town. Jeremy turned left, then right, easing the wagon to a halt behind a large house with a wide wraparound porch, multiple gables and a large turret. “Who gets the turret room?” Zylphia asked.
Jeremy laughed. “Melly. She says it makes her feel like a princess.”
“I can see why. What a glorious house.” Zylphia accepted his help from the wagon and followed him inside. Her maid trailed behind her.
A shriek heralded their arrival, and a girl on the cusp of womanhood threw herself in Zylphia’s arms. “Zee! You’re finally here!” she proclaimed.
“Melly,” Zylphia murmured as she held her cousin close. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you.”
“Come. I can’t wait to show you our house.” She grabbed Zylphia’s hand, intent on towing her from room to room. She stilled her movement at her father’s clearing of his throat.
“Let me see your mother first, and then I’d love a tour,” Zylphia soothed, running a hand over her blond curls. She looked behind her and smiled her welcome to her young companion, inviting her silently to join them.
Melly dragged Zylphia into an informal sitting room, filled with potted plants and comfortable furniture.
“Zee,” Savannah exclaimed, rising to hug her. “I’m thankful you’ve arrived safe and sound.” She noted the woman hovering in the doorway. “I beg your pardon. I’m Savannah McLeod, Zylphia’s cousin.” She reached her hand out to shake the young woman’s hand.
The woman bobbed a quick curtsy as she shook Savannah’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m Charlotte, Lottie, McGivens.”
Zylphia shared a long look with Savannah and turned away to roam the room. “My companion for my journey out here.”
“I’m to be a maid to Miss Zylphia,” Lottie said.
Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four Page 34