Although he attempted to focus solely on his work, his mind continued to wander to Savannah. Nearly two weeks had passed since he’d last seen her, and she’d yet to visit him at his workshop. He grunted his displeasure as he nicked off an extra sliver of wood, causing the arch to be wider than desired at the corner of his design. He blew on the wood dust and extracted a smaller, finer chisel to carve more slowly but with more precision.
What did it say about him that she only wanted to see him when he was insensate? Had he acted in an improper manner when she had cared for him? He sighed, cursing the malaria and his inability to remember her ministrations while he was ill.
A gentle tapping at the door caused Jeremy to lay down his chisel. He glanced at the carving with a scowl before wiping his hands on his worn pants and striding toward the door. He pulled the door open and nodded at the sight of Savannah on his doorstep, the scent of a crisp October day clinging to her.
“Hello, ma’am. It’s nice to see you again.” He motioned for her to enter.
She hovered near the door as he moved toward the workbench. He rolled his shoulders a few times, as though in an attempt to release pent-up tension. As he picked up his chisel, she said, “If you’re too busy for a visit, there’s no need for me to stay.”
He paused his motion before placing down the chisel. He stood facing away from her for a moment before turning to her, his expression carefully neutral. Savannah studied him, noting the healthy color on his cheeks.
“You didn’t shave after you recovered,” Savannah said with a small smile. Jeremy rubbed absently at his beard and shook his head no. “I like it. You look healthy.” Virile, her mind whispered, and she looked away as she fought a blush.
“You look better too, Mrs. Montgomery, than the last time you visited me here at the workshop.”
Anger flashed through her eyes, and a flush, brought on by irritation rather than embarrassment, limned her cheeks. “Never call me by that name again. Call me, ma’am. Call me Savannah, but never Mrs. Montgomery. Not you.”
Jeremy let out a pent-up breath and relaxed a fraction at her anger. “I had hoped you’d call sooner. After caring for me while I was ill, I had hoped …”
Savannah shrugged her shoulders in response.
“I’m sorry if my discussion about imaginations frightened you away.”
“No, no, of course it didn’t,” Savannah said. “I’m sorry I’ve stayed away for so long.”
“Why did you?” Jeremy frowned at the faint longing he heard in his voice. “Why did you only come to see me when I was out of my mind with fever?”
“I was advised that a liaison, with any man, was not to my advantage at this time.”
“Due to the divorce proceedings?”
“No. Well, not only because of that but mainly because I finally have the opportunity to learn what I desire from life free of the influence of a man or family.”
Jeremy took a quick step toward her before stopping himself and attempting to hide the anger from his voice. “Do you think I would try to bend you to my will? To make you see things as I do? That I would be disappointed if you had your own thoughts and ideas?”
Savannah searched his gaze, and a wondrous smile bloomed. “No. I don’t. It’s why I decided to finally ignore that advice and visit you again. I’ve missed you.” Savannah moved from the door and walked toward the rocking chair. She removed her coat and hat, sitting with a small sigh.
Jeremy tracked her movements, an intense longing in his eyes. “I’ve missed you, too. Not seeing you has made me nearly mad with frustration.”
“Why?”
“I worried I had offended you in some way. That you had decided you no longer desired our friendship. Not being able to talk with you …” He paused and shook his head. “I’ve taken to sleeping most nights here on the pallet, so that Florence and Richard don’t have to contend with my black mood.”
“I’m sorry, Jeremy. I was attempting to follow the advice of those who care for me. However, the more I did, the more miserable I became. I realized I was obtaining no further clarity remaining away from you than if I visited you.”
Jeremy nodded with a half smile before becoming serious. “Any word on the divorce?”
Savannah jerked and stopped rocking. “None,” she said in a dull voice. “I can’t do what they say I must.” She looked up, startled to find Jeremy crouched by her side.
“And what is that?” He took one of her hands in his, massaging her fisted hand until it relaxed in his.
“They want me to detail every episode of abuse at his hands. They say it’s necessary for any proceedings to be successful.” She stared into Jeremy’s eyes, his calm acceptance encouraging her to continue. “And I can’t! I can’t speak of everything that happened.”
“Why not?” He squeezed her hand gently in support. “As I said before, there’s no shame in survival.”
“If there’s no shame, then why am I filled with it as I imagine the newspaper stories and their lurid headlines? Why do I feel as though it were my fault?”
“If you are unwilling to detail what you suffered for the sake of the court case, you may find there is nothing you can do, Savannah,” he murmured. “You may find that there is no way to obtain a divorce.”
“I can’t accept remaining his wife,” Savannah said as she attempted to blink away tears.
Jeremy reached toward her, pulling her onto his lap as he settled onto the floor.
At first Savannah stiffened, but soon she relaxed.
Jeremy whispered, “Why? Why does it bother you to remain his wife if you aren’t living with him?”
“Because he may believe he still has some rights over me.”
He crooned, rocking her and brushed a hand over her head and down her back. “Sometimes, even though we don’t get what we think we want, it all turns out for the best.”
“How can you say that?” She sniffled and leaned deeper into his embrace.
“Well, I’m sitting here, with you in my arms. And no matter what happens, it brought us together,” he whispered into her ear, kissing the side of her neck.
“Jeremy,” she breathed as she leaned her head to the side to allow him better access. “I am a married woman.”
“In name only. In all the ways that matter, you are free. Free to decide what it is you want.” She shivered at his words. “Tell me to stop. Tell me that you don’t desire me, and I will …”
“No,” Savannah protested, turning her head to kiss him. “No, I want …” She moaned as the kiss intensified. Jeremy carefully moved her up so that she was facing him, and soon they were kneeling in front of each other.
He leaned away for a moment, breaking contact.
“No, please,” Savannah whispered as she reached out to twine her arms around his neck.
“I know things between you and your husband must have been difficult,” Jeremy said as he kissed her under her chin.
Savannah shivered. “I don’t want to think about him. About any of that.”
“I know. I don’t either.” He leaned away and met her passion-filled gaze. “I want you to know I will only ever touch you with care. If at any moment I do or say something that you do not like, tell me.”
Savannah leaned forward and kissed him for a long minute before breaking the kiss and nibbling on his ear. “The only thing that would make me upset is if you stopped. I never knew I could feel like this. That this was what it was supposed to be like.”
Jeremy smiled at her dazed admission. “My love,” he murmured, “let me lock the door.” He nuzzled her cheek, caressed her shoulders and rose, striding purposefully toward the door to lock it. He turned to gaze in wonder at Savannah waiting for him.
“Let me,” he whispered, moving toward a far wall. He opened a rusty trunk, extracting a few worn wool blankets and placing them over his pallet. He spread them on the floor and held his hand out toward Savannah. “It isn’t nearly fine enough for you. I—” He broke off, glancing away with emb
arrassment as she continued to stare at him.
He returned his gaze to hers. “Forgive my presumption,” he muttered, as he turned away to stare at the wall.
After a few moments, he heard her rise, and he closed his eyes in agony as he imagined her making her way toward the door and departing. Jeremy flinched as he felt her hands tracing the contours of his back through his thin shirt. He spun to face her. “I thought you’d leave.”
“Never.” Her luminous smile lit her eyes with joy. “Kiss me.” She leaned toward him, and he clasped her against his chest.
“I don’t want you to regret this.” His worried gaze took in her exultant expression, and he half smiled.
“Never.”
He leaned toward her, teasing her lips with his before kissing her deeply. They collapsed to the blankets, on their knees again, facing each other. “I promise to be gentle. To always treat you with respect.”
“I know,” she whispered as she kissed his neck. “Show me what I’ve missed all this time.”
***
SAVANNAH NESTLED HER HEAD on Jeremy’s shoulder, attempting to banish her anxiety and fear at his continued silence. She pushed herself up, deciding she should leave.
“No, don’t go. Stay with me,” he murmured, caressing her back. He curved his head down to kiss her tenderly.
“For how long?” Savannah teased.
“Forever.” He sighed as he gathered her close. Savannah stilled, her tension mounting. “Shh, forget I said that. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t mean what you said?”
“Of course I do, but I don’t want you to worry. I have no expectations.”
Savannah pushed herself up, gripping a blanket to her chest as she glared down at Jeremy. “Why? Am I so unworthy?” Tears glistened in her eyes, and she moved to stand.
Jeremy sat up and grabbed her hips, pulling her onto his lap. “Not so fast.” Savannah struggled to break free of his hold, but he clasped her firmly. “Don’t fight, love. Don’t hurt yourself.”
She lowered her head, and he heard a soft sob. “Oh, God, don’t cry, my Savannah,” he pleaded in a tortured voice, tilting her face to his to kiss away the tears.
“Please listen to me. Please,” he begged. “I’m not worthy of you. I should never have touched you.”
“Don’t say such things,” she hiccupped.
“You look at me and have no idea the monster I was,” he rasped. “These hands”—he held one out to the side to stare at it–—“I’ve used them to hurt so many people.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He let out a cynical laugh. “The things I’ve done make Jonas look like an angel.” He closed tormented eyes. Savannah squirmed in his lap, and he released her. “Leave. You have every right to.”
Instead, she leaned away to better study his face. She cradled it in her palms. “Tell me, Jeremy. Tell me why you would ever think that way.” She leaned forward and rubbed her nose with his.
“I killed men, tortured men, when I was in the Philippines. I raided villages, helped to burn them to the ground, hurt innocent people.” He shook his head with his eyes closed as though trying to quell the memories. “War is subjugating others to your will, and it is so ugly.”
“Were you following orders?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Then how are you to blame? You did what every soldier has to do.”
“You don’t understand, Savannah. When you’re in battle, a sick appreciation for killing can come over you. I was so good at killing.”
“Oh, my dearest,” she murmured. She leaned into him, kissing his cheeks, his closed eyes and his eyebrows. “I can’t say it doesn’t matter, because it does. It matters because it hurts you still.” She caressed his cheeks, waiting patiently until he opened his eyes and met hers. “Someday you will banish this agony. Let me help you.” She continued to stroke his back, his hair, his arms, ending at his hands.
“I don’t deserve you, Savannah.” He groaned as he clasped her to him and pulled her more firmly to him onto his lap. He bent his head, resting it against the curve of her neck and shoulder.
“I think you do,” she whispered before she kissed him softly on his head.
Jeremy held her tightly, lost in the moment and her.
***
JEREMY STROKED A HAND down Savannah’s back. She lay sprawled on top of his chest. “Savannah, Savannah, my love. You have to wake and dress. It’s already late for you to be returning to Mrs. Chickering’s.”
“I don’t want to go,” Savannah mumbled against his chest.
Jeremy sighed with contentment. “I don’t want you to either. But the last thing I want is to lose any esteem in that woman’s eyes. I would hate to be barred from you.”
“She would never bar you,” Savannah said, and he could feel her smile against his neck as she kissed him. “Though I don’t want to test that theory.” She leaned up, pushing away her disheveled hair. “Help me dress?”
“With the greatest reluctance,” he said, stealing a quick kiss.
When Savannah was fully dressed, he walked her to the door. “Savannah …”
She held up her fingers to his lips, silencing him. “Come see me tomorrow? Take me on a walk, have tea with me, anything?” Her voice rose hopefully.
“With the greatest pleasure,” he whispered, kissing her again. He opened the door, reluctantly released her hand and watched her walk toward the stairs. She smiled again as she paused at the head of the stairs, and then she was gone.
CHAPTER 20
“SOPHIE, I INVITED SOMEONE to have tea with us today,” Savannah said. Bright sunlight streamed in through the bow-fronted windows. A tea tray sat on a low table in front of the chairs and settee, largely untouched.
“No need to look nervous, Savannah. Florence is always welcomed here,” Sophie said as she settled into her chair.
“I didn’t invite Florence.”
Aunt Betsy sat, her cane falling to the floor with a loud thwack, and she leaned forward in her chair to study Savannah. “You’re more like Clarissa than you ever let on, aren’t you?”
“I think I must be,” Savannah said. “Mother would be most displeased.”
Sophronia squinted at Savannah for a moment. “You’ve invited that McLeod brother, haven’t you?”
“Yes. And he should be arriving any moment.”
“What do you hope to gain from such a liaison?” Aunt Betsy asked.
“I don’t know. But he treats me well. Truly listens to me,” Savannah said.
“You can’t hope for marriage while you’re still tied to Jonas,” Aunt Betsy said.
“I know, Aunt. I’m trying not to think too much about the future,” Savannah whispered.
“Is that fair to him?” Sophie asked. “Although I worry you are becoming entangled too soon after your separation from your husband, I’m also concerned for him. He seemed to be someone who needed … to come back to himself after his misadventures in the Philippines. There are plenty of worthy causes to devote your time to, Savannah. I would enjoy having another friend and confidante at the weekly suffragist meetings.”
“Thank you, Sophie, but I do not see myself agitating for the vote. I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
“Think for yourself for a change, that’s what. Be able to fight for your rights, rather than waiting on a courtroom full of men. Wouldn’t you rather have had the ability to be seen as Jonas’s equal in the eyes of the law rather than as his chattel?”
“I think you go too far, Sophie,” Savannah said.
“I don’t go far enough. It’s about time you realized that, if you’d had more rights, rights that men take for granted every day, then you would not be in the predicament you find yourself in. You’d have the money your grandparents set aside for you. You would not be a social pariah. You would be able to chart the course for your life as you see fit, not as the men of this world see it.”
“Sophie, no matter how much you argue for the vote, I
will not be swayed. I can only see harm coming from women believing they have the same rights as men. Women don’t, and never will, have the same rights.”
“Of course they will, Savannah.”
All three women spun toward the doorway at Jeremy’s voice. Savannah flushed at him overhearing their conversation.
“Mrs. Chickering, nice to see you again,” Jeremy said. He nodded toward Aunt Betsy, “Mrs. Parker, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Sit, young man, and cease with the social niceties,” Sophronia barked. “Are you saying that you believe that women have the same rights as men?”
“No, I’m not. They don’t have the same rights as men. But they should,” Jeremy said as he accepted a cup of tea from Betsy with a smile. “And with women like you, they will.”
“Why would you believe that?” Sophronia asked.
“My mother was forward-thinking. I don’t know if she would have called herself a suffragist, but I’m confident, if she had lived, she would have joined the movement. She believed in education for all, not just for the wealthy or for men.
“I heard her and my da discuss politics regularly. He always listened to her opinion, argued with her as though what she said had merit. And the irony was, although she was the more educated of the two, she was the one who couldn’t vote.”
“Ah, so you had a good example,” Aunt Betsy said with a satisfied nod.
“Yes, until they died unexpectedly. I was quite young, and yet I still remember those discussions. They believed their boys should be members of the world and of Boston, and should be aware of what occurred in the world as well as in this city—although I’m sure they sheltered us from the truly horrible news.”
“As all parents should,” Sophie said.
“I’m confused by you, Savannah. Why don’t you believe women will have the same rights as men?” Jeremy asked.
“If the movement can’t even convince me, who has as strong a reason as any woman to strive for more rights, that an increase in my rights will lead to an improvement in my life, then the movement will always falter,” Savannah said. “Why should I believe that men such as my husband would ever allow women to vote?”
Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 Page 16