Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3

by Ramona Flightner

  She laughed with a hint of malicious glee. “Ah, so brave of you to put on a positive face now that you have no alternative.” She turned around the post office to ensure she had captured everyone’s attention. With her imperious voice, it wasn’t difficult. “Mr. Wright, we look forward to your company at the family dinner this evening. It appears your loss, Mrs. McLeod, was my family’s gain. I’ve never seen my niece so happy.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” I muttered as I moved forward a place in the line. I looked around the post office, smiling wanly at the growing number of speculative looks.

  As Mrs. Vaughan moved past me toward the door, she nudged me with one large hip, pushing me backward toward Cameron. I stumbled, reaching forward to grasp the person in front of me to no avail.

  In an instant, I was in Cameron’s arms again with the scent of bay rum enveloping me, and I fought panic. I struggled to free myself from his tight grip, but he maintained his hold on my arms. “I wouldn’t want you to fall and harm yourself, Mrs. McLeod,” he proclaimed to all who were watching the scene. In my ear he whispered, “I knew you missed me. That you still dreamed of my touch.”

  I stomped on his foot with my sturdy boot, the heel crushing his toes, and he grunted. I jammed my elbow hard into his side in my frenzy to free myself, earning another grunt. Finally I was free. Even though it had lasted only a few seconds, I began to shake.

  “Reminiscing are we, dear Clarissa?” he whispered, leaning toward me as though helping to steady me.

  “Trying to forget I ever met you.” I stepped forward, separating myself from him and attempted to smile for the postman. I looked down, surprised to see my hands empty of my letters. I had dropped them at some point in my interactions with Cameron, and I didn’t know where they were. I turned to look for them on the ground and grimaced at the thought of Cameron having my letters, even for an instant.

  “Here, Mrs. McLeod.” I looked up to meet the worried gaze of Sebastian Carlin. “You seem to have dropped these.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Carlin.” I reached out to grab my letters, clasping them to me for an instant before turning toward the postman. After a moment, I turned back to see Sebastian watching me from the side of the line. “Will you wait for me?”

  “Of course.”

  I paid the postage for my letters and departed. Cameron moved toward me as I was leaving but backed away when Sebastian cleared his throat. I reached Sebastian and walked in front of him outside.

  “Thank you for your help, Mr. Carlin,” I said. I closed my eyes for a moment as I took a deep breath. I felt his hand under my elbow as he propelled me into motion.

  “Let’s walk a little, Mrs. McLeod. There are those in the vicinity who are a bit too curious about you.”

  I nodded my agreement as we strolled down the boardwalk. Even in the shade of the awnings, I had to squint against the powerful late morning sun.

  “Why were you at the post office? I would think you’d be too busy to be away from the mill.”

  “I generally am. But I needed to send a telegram from the train station and decided to check for any mail on my way back to the mill.”

  We walked for a few moments, nearing the workshop. I slowed, wanting to speak with Sebastian before we reached Gabriel. “Why would Cameron back away when he saw you? He doesn’t seem to care about anyone’s good opinion.”

  “He cares for mine. Or at least gives the appearance of it.” Sebastian grimaced as he looked down the boardwalk, nodding to passersby. “He’s begun to work at the mill. Seems Mrs. Bouchard’s husband wants him to prove that he’s a good worker.”

  I snorted. “He doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right. And I fear his laziness will end up hurting one of my men who needs the job. He’s more concerned with impressing the owner so as to be able to wed the daughter.”

  “Will he cause you problems, Mr. Carlin?”

  “When there’s a man like that around, there can’t be nothing but problems, Mrs. McLeod. I’d avoid him in the future.”

  I nodded my agreement, and we walked toward the workshop. “Does Gabe know yet?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him much since he reconciled with you.”

  I blushed and bit back an embarrassed smile.

  “And that’s as it should be, ma’am. A husband should want to be with his wife.” He nodded as we approached the workshop. “Ma’am.”

  I smiled my good-bye before taking a deep breath and bracing myself to tell Gabriel the news. I entered into the well-lit workshop, light streaming in the open door and windows. Dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight, and a cacophony of sound enveloped me from Ronan’s hammering to Gabriel’s whistling as he sawed.

  “Gabe!” Ronan bellowed when Gabriel failed to turn around after a few moments.

  Gabriel spun to face me, his face breaking into a broad smile as he saw me. “Darling. I had thought you were to mail your letters and then go to the depository.”

  “I was, but something happened, and I wanted to tell you. I didn’t want you to hear it from the gossips.”

  He set down his saw and motioned for me to sit on a bench near Ronan. “Should I shut the door?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s nothing that serious.” Ronan watched me from behind his worktable, and Gabriel gave me an encouraging nod. “Cameron and Mrs. Vaughan were at the post office today. I didn’t want to make a scene, but it was put about again that I was upset in my choice of you. That I was morose over not awaiting the arrival of Cameron.”

  “The only thing that will stem the gossips is if we continue to show how happy we are in our choice of each other,” Gabriel said.

  “I know,” I said. “Sebastian was there. With one look, he kept Cameron from approaching me again. He can be quite fierce, can’t he?” I watched Gabriel and Ronan mull over my question, and saw Ronan’s amused agreement. “Did you know Cameron’s now working for Sebastian? That Mrs. Bouchard’s husband wants him to work for him at the mill to prove his worth?”

  Gabriel gave a hoot of laughter and clapped his hands together. “Oh, that’s fantastic! Some of the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “Someone could get hurt, Gabe!” I protested.

  “Preferably that eastern idiot,” Ronan said.

  I gasped. “No one would intentionally harm him.”

  “Of course not,” Gabriel said. “If nothing’s been done to him by now, and I’ve promised you many times I will not be the reason we are separated …” We shared a long, intense look. “Then no one will act now. Doesn’t mean he won’t do something to hurt himself.”

  “Mills are dangerous places,” Ronan said, as he shook his head with amused disbelief. “What has you worried, Clarissa?”

  “Why does he continue to focus on me? I’m another man’s wife.”

  “Some men can’t admit defeat. Maybe he hopes he’ll receive some of that money from your grandparents by demonstrating how hard he worked to bring you round,” Ronan said.

  “They’ve already given it away,” I whispered.

  “What?” Gabriel asked.

  “My so-called dowry. In one of my da’s latest letters, he left space for Mrs. Smythe to write, which he rarely does. I haven’t heard from her in months. She took great pleasure in informing me that my dowry had been given to the group fighting the vote.”

  Gabriel reached forward and stroked my cheek. “Does this bother you, darling?”

  “No. It was never my money. It was always theirs. Theirs to spend as they wished. I was merely to be another pawn, just like Savannah.”

  “Well, she paid a heavy price,” Gabriel said.

  “Yes, married to the likes of Jonas.” Then I brightened. “Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s a letter I picked up today at the post office. It seems a bit tattered.” I fingered the frayed edges and tried to make out scrawled writing on the front beside the address. Gabriel moved us toward the rear of the workshop where he had a few chairs, only in n
eed of varnishing. We sat close to each other, and Ronan began to hammer again at a shoe, singing a little ditty to give us privacy.

  Gabriel smiled at the familiar handwriting and ripped it open. “It’s a letter from Jeremy. Do you think your Mr. Pickens will mind if you are a few more minutes late?”

  I shook my head as I leaned forward, anxious to hear the latest news from Boston.

  Dear Gabriel and Clarissa,

  I continue to work in your old workshop, Gabe, and I remember much of what you had taught me. With time I’m slowly improving my carving skills. I wish you were here to help me, although there are still many here who remember you and commission me to produce fine pieces solely due to your name. I wonder if you really did have to leave all those months ago or, if that storm, like so many caused by our aunt Masterson, would have passed, too.

  Clarissa’s cousin, Savannah, has visited us a few times. I never thought to have sympathy for one such as she, but I do. Even with all her trappings of wealth, she isn’t happy. Has anyone written you that her daughter lived? Her lowlife husband lied to Savannah and kept her drugged on medication for months with the hopes of preventing her from remembering the truth. He placed her child in an orphanage rather than keep her, all because she was a daughter. I’ve never seen a more haunted woman than Savannah.

  Florence and I will continue to aid Savannah in her search for her daughter, but, so far, there is no trace of her. As for Savannah, she is no longer living at the mansion in the Back Bay but with a formidable woman who is your friend, Clarissa. A Mrs. Chickering, and I believe Savannah is slowly recovering.

  Thank you for your frequent letters. I know you are happy in Montana, but I dream of a day when we are reunited again.

  Ever your affectionate brother,

  Jeremy

  Gabriel glanced up and met my worried eyes. “There’s a postscript scribbled in here from Florence.” He continued reading:

  Clarissa, there is nothing more that could be done for Savannah. Jeremy and I will do all we can for her. She is safe with Sophie. - Flo

  I took a stuttering breath and shared a horrified glance with Gabriel. “What can I do?”

  “There’s nothing to do,” Gabriel said. “I’m sorry you’ve been worried.”

  “I needed to know. I’ve wondered, for so many months, why she’s rarely written me.”

  Gabriel turned to stare at the letter, looking at the smudged date. “It’s a month old, this letter. I wonder why it took so long to be delivered?” He flipped over the envelope and peered at the words next to Jeremy’s handwriting. “‘Sorry for delay,’ I think it says.”

  “What could have happened to Savannah since then?” I shared a frustrated look with Gabriel. “I hate that I have so little news from Boston. I receive letters weekly from Aunt Betsy and Sophronia, but very few contain anything of real import.”

  “What good would it do to know that Savannah had her baby taken away rather than the baby dying at birth?”

  “I could have written her, let her know how concerned I am for her. I can’t imagine Jonas giving away her child.”

  Gabriel snorted. “I can.” He had a faraway look in his eyes as he fingered the letter. “It sounds exactly like something that man she married would do.” He stared at me, and, for a moment, I saw a deep yearning in his eyes that was soon hidden. “Some men are incapable of recognizing the gifts they’ve been given.”

  “Gabriel,” I whispered as I leaned forward and clasped his hand.

  “I would have cherished a daughter, as much as a son. You know that, don’t you, Rissa?” Gabriel asked with intense urgency in his voice.

  His hand tightened around mine to the point of pain, but I refused to grimace.

  “I know, Gabriel. And I continue to hope, every day, that we will be blessed.”

  Gabriel closed his eyes. “And I will continue to give thanks that you are here with me, healthy and happy.” A smile lit his eyes as he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Now, you’d better go to work, or that Mr. Pickens will send out a search party.”

  “I doubt it. He thinks you’ve finally shown sense and are acting as a newly married man should.” I blushed as I spoke.

  Gabriel laughed and rose with me. “Well, for once, I am in agreement with that old geezer.” He kissed me swiftly, and I departed for the depository.

  ***

  THAT EVENING, I leaned against Gabriel on the overstuffed mauve camelback settee in Uncle Aidan’s sitting room. Colin sprawled on the floor with Nicholas, playing with tin soldiers. Amelia sat in the rocking chair with little Anne, comforting her as a new tooth came in. Ronan and Sebastian remained in the dining room, nursing their cups of coffee.

  “I hope this doesn’t have to end when Aidan returns,” Colin said.

  “It will be different, Col,” Ronan said. “It’s his house. He’s not going to want it overrun by the likes of us numerous times a week.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to see him,” Gabriel said with a tender smile as he kissed my head. “It’s just that I don’t want things to change either.”

  “I agree,” Amelia said. “I worry how Nicholas will take it. He’s become a bit free, roaming about where he shouldn’t with Aidan away. Now that he’s coming back, it will seem a bit cramped in the back rooms.”

  “You’ll just have to come over to our place,” I said with a smile that quickly turned into a frown as I looked at Ronan.

  “Or you can come to mine,” Sebastian said. “I have a decent home over by the mill.”

  “I’ll talk with Mr. McLeod about having Sundays off. Or at least one of the meals on Sunday off. That way, the children and I would be free once a week.”

  I patted Gabriel’s arm. “I’m sure you’re all worrying for nothing. Aidan’s kind and generous. He’ll delight in having us over.”

  As the conversation moved on, Gabriel murmured in my ear, “Are you all right, Rissa?”

  “I’m fine. Just a bit tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  I heard Colin snort and wished I were within kicking range. I opened my eyes at the sound of Ronan moving his chair to the living room and Sebastian walking to the chair next to our settee, near the fireplace and across the room from Amelia.

  “I remember you mentioning you missed your cousin’s music,” Sebastian said. He pulled out a black case tucked in behind a chair. I hadn’t noticed it on our arrival, and Sebastian must have placed it there in the commotion of helping Ronan into the house.

  “Yes,” I said. “Now would be the perfect time to relax and listen to something Lucas would play.”

  “Would you object to my playing the fiddle?” he asked.

  I pushed away from Gabriel to watch Seb. “You play the fiddle? You’ve played all this time and never before performed for us?”

  An abashed smile drifted over Sebastian’s face as he nodded. “I was a bit rusty. Hadn’t played in years, but I’ve been practicing the nights we don’t meet up.” He pulled the violin from its case and plucked at the strings before running his bow over it, as though tuning it.

  “By all means, play, Seb,” Gabriel said as I leaned down again, nestling into his side.

  I closed my eyes, drifting to the lyrical music. The second song he played caused me to laugh as it reminded me of one of the songs Colin had said he was learning at the forge. Colin sung in his off-pitched voice. Soon we were all attempting to join in, with Ronan using a spoon on the metal of his wheels as a sort of drum.

  The music continued on in that vein for nearly an hour. Finally Sebastian laid down the violin, stretching his hands. “I have to stop, or I’ll have a permanent hand cramp,” he said with a smile.

  “Oh, you must play for us again,” I enthused.

  “I’ll see about practicing new pieces for the next time we are together,” Sebastian agreed. He picked up Nicholas, who had leaned against his legs, to hold him on his lap.

  “Seb, now that you’re done entertaining us, why don’t you tell us abo
ut the mill,” Gabriel said. I heard Ronan snort as he wheeled his chair farther into the parlor.

  “Mr. Bouchard’s being a darned fool,” Sebastian said with a shake of his head. “How he can think that worthless easterner can work in a mill is beyond me.”

  “I heard from one of the men at the forge that he’s hoping he’ll run it someday,” Colin said.

  “He’d never!” Amelia sputtered. “Mr. Wright has no idea how to run a proper mill. That would be terribly unjust.”

  “Well, I’m not the one showing an interest in the owner’s daughter,” Sebastian said. “Now it seems Mr. Bouchard is trying to placate his wife by providing some sort of employment for Cameron. Seems they’re willing to overlook the fact he’s a beggared, albeit well-dressed, smooth-talking man due to his connections out East.”

  “Damn fools,” Colin hissed.

  “All I hope is that the fool doesn’t lead to any harm to my men who need the work and know what they’re doing,” Sebastian said. “It’s hard enough preventing accidents and keeping my men healthy when they’re well trained and competent.”

  “When it comes to Cameron, I’ve learned to expect chaos,” I said with a mournful glance in Sebastian’s direction.

  ***

  AMELIA ROSE TO CARRY Anne to the bedroom. Sebastian followed suit with Nicholas in his arms and joined her in the rear of the house, away from their friends who continued to discuss Cameron, the mill and whether his interest in the Bouchard daughter was feigned.

  “It’s all right, Nicky,” Sebastian soothed as he settled the child on his bed. Seb undid his shoes, stripping him of his stockings, pants and shirt. Nicholas curled on his side, and Sebastian rubbed his back. “Is it all right, ma’am, if he sleeps in his underclothes?”

  Amelia turned to watch Nicholas with exasperated affection. “Yes, it’s fine. He’s exhausted, and it’s far too late for him to finally be going to bed. Tomorrow he’ll be a bear to be around.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Sebastian said, his shoulders stiffening. “I never meant to make your life more difficult.”

  She stroked a hand down Anne’s back in the too-small crib, then turned to grasp Sebastian’s arm before he could spin away. “No, you misunderstand me. This was a wonderful night, and I’m glad he could be a part of it. He loves his time with you and listening to your music. If he’s grumpy tomorrow, it will be worth it.”