Undaunted Love (PART TWO): Banished Saga, Book 3.5

by Ramona Flightner

  “Does he know all of us present?” Sophie asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” I said as I glanced around. “We could meet in a coffee or tea shop. They’re always crowded, and one of you could easily hide.”

  “The problem is that we’d need to be at the next table, Rissa,” Jeremy said. “The camera won’t take a good picture, probably not even at that distance.”

  “He barely knows me,” Florence said. “He saw me when I was at your house for tea once, and then when I was in Richard’s arms at your uncle’s house. I doubt he paid me any mind, a poor, penniless schoolteacher. And I doubt he’d look twice at a pregnant woman.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do this, Flo,” I said.

  “You’re not asking. I’m offering. Besides, it’s dreadfully dull being alone in the house all day.” She smiled. “I can act as though I’ve just received a new present from my doting husband, and I’m learning how to use it. That way I can sit next to you and take photographs.”

  “You’ll have to be dressed a bit better,” Savannah argued.

  “It seems a waste buying a new dress when I’ll soon be two sizes smaller,” Florence said with a pat to her belly.

  “Savannah, you and Florence work on obtaining a dress. Colin, you can buy the camera,” Sophie said. “As for you, my girl,” she said with a tap to my knee with her fan, “I’d become accustomed to letter writing. You’re not leaving this house without an escort again until that man has been dealt with.”

  CHAPTER 12

  COLIN AND I STOOD on our old front steps, waiting for one of the maids to answer the door. I gripped my hands in front of me, pulling on my gloves with such force I tore off a button at the cuff. The black wrought iron handrail gleamed, as did the gold knocker on the door.

  “Relax, Rissa. We have every right to want to visit our sister,” Colin said.

  I nodded as I pasted on a smile as the door opened. Bridget barely spared us a glance before attempting to shut the door without acknowledging our presence. Colin stuffed his foot in the small opening, grunting with pain as the heavy door met his instep.

  “Come on, Bridget, you know you have to let us in sometime,” Colin said. He leaned against the door with all his strength, and it burst forward as I heard a shriek and a thunk. I peered around Colin to see Bridget sprawled on the floor, her apron askew.

  Colin entered, with me on his heels, and held out his hand to pull Bridget off the floor. “Loyalty is an admirable trait, as long as it’s not misplaced or misguided,” Colin said with a meaningful look.

  She glared at the two of us and turned toward the back of the house, using the rear stairs to descend to the kitchen. Colin and I crept toward the door of the parlor and glanced inside. Colin couldn’t help grunting in surprise, and I gasped at the changes in the room.

  At our slight noise, Mrs. Smythe turned toward us and glowered. “How dare you intrude upon my quietude,” she snapped. “You have no right to enter here.”

  “We disagree. This was, after all, our home,” Colin said as he strolled into the room with feigned nonchalance. “Interesting choice of wallpaper.”

  “It’s one that only the most esteemed of Boston society has been able to purchase. When I saw it, and realized the prestige it would bring our family, I knew I needed to have it installed.”

  “Even though it beggared you and Da?” Colin asked.

  “It’s done no such thing. And there isn’t a more desirable drawing room in the area.” She flushed as she slammed down her teacup.

  “That wouldn’t be hard as you are now in a working man’s neighborhood. It’s not as though you are in the Back Bay,” I said. “Where did the piano go?”

  “I thought a sitting area was more to our needs, rather than a decrepit old piece that constantly needed tuning.”

  “So you sold that too? Even though you knew it was one of our mother’s favorite pieces?” Colin asked.

  “One such as I will always look to my future rather than cling to the past. I’d suggest you do the same.” She eyed Colin. “It’s how I managed to receive more than I ever expected for the forge.”

  “You stupid woman,” Colin growled. “If you had even a tenth of the intelligence you think you have, you would have spoken with me or someone with any knowledge about a forge. You would have known that, over time, you would have earned a handsome income. That selling was the last thing you should have done. Instead, you were on the verge of parting with it for a bargain to a fortune hunter.”

  “I did no such thing. I received half again what I had originally expected to receive. A wealthy businessman offered more than Mr. Wade had been willing to pay. I think I did quite well for myself.”

  “Did you never wonder why a wealthy businessman, one who has no previous experience in blacksmithing, would—all of a sudden—take an interest in your forge? He paid you half what it was worth, but because you’d been led to believe it had such little value, you thought yourself cunning. You’re a fool, Mrs. Smythe.” Colin paced in front of the fireplace.

  “I fail to see how any of this is your business, Colin. It was mine to do with as I please. As your father’s widow, I inherited his estate. You and your siblings were entitled to nothing as you had all left home, and no will was formally written.”

  “Did our da tell that you he’d like to leave us something?” I asked, my voice cracking as I looked around the sitting room, devoid of any of my mother’s warmth or charm. I fought the inclination to strain for my da’s booming voice; to listen for his heavy footsteps descending the stairs; to imagine, at any moment, he’d enter the parlor and enfold me in his strong arms.

  “He made no specific bequests to any of you,” she snapped. “You ungrateful children are entitled to nothing! All you brought him was pain and heartache with your defection and inability to show him filial loyalty.”

  “Mrs. Smythe …” Colin growled.

  “And I would thank you to give me the respect I am owed as your stepmother. My name is Mrs. Sullivan, not Mrs. Smythe.” Her bosom heaved as she spat out her first married name.

  “It was my birthright!” Colin roared. “And you stole it from me. And still you don’t have the decency to thank Clarissa and me for intervening, for advising Gabriel’s uncle to buy the forge for more than you were to receive from Mr. Wade so that Richard could run it. You continue under your delusional belief that you were a successful businesswoman.”

  “How dare you interfere in my negotiations!”

  “How dare you believe you could negotiate with a pair of sharks and not come out mauled!” Colin snapped, watching Mrs. Sullivan with unmitigated loathing. “If you’d had any sense, you would have kept the forge and offered it, if not to me, then to Richard to run.”

  “I refuse to have any further contact than is strictly necessary with that family.” Mrs. Smythe glared at Colin and me, her back ramrod straight. “Any other foreman would have been preferable to a McLeod.”

  “You are such a fool,” I whispered, filled with such a rage I couldn’t speak any louder. “You have no idea what you’ve lost. What you’ve forced, each of us, to lose. We lost Patrick due to your meddling. Colin lost the forge. I almost lost Gabriel. And you wonder why we never welcomed you into our family? Why we insisted on calling you by your first married name? Because you never wanted us. You never wanted to be a part of our family. You just wanted Da and whatever material gains you could receive from him. And now none of it matters. Because you don’t have Da, and you have no income.” I blinked away tears as I stared at her, feeling my antipathy bleed into a numb indifference.

  “I have no need to discuss my business transactions with the likes of you. I would like you to leave my house,” Mrs. Smythe said.

  “No. We want to see Melinda. We haven’t seen her since we arrived in Boston. We need to ensure that she is well.”

  “Of course she is well. How dare you intimate otherwise! When I think of all I’ve had to suffer at the hands of such ungrateful stepchildren …” Sh
e glowered at us but did not finish her sentence.

  I stood, my gloves twisted in knots in my hands. “We know the way to Melly’s room. Good day, Mrs. Smythe.” I turned and walked toward the parlor door.

  “Good riddance!” she shrieked at my back. “If I never again see the likes of such malicious people who were supposed to be my family, it will be too soon.”

  “Save your tears for someone who actually believes your theatrics,” Colin said as he followed me out the door. We walked up the stairs to the third floor, noting the furniture becoming more sparse in the hallway as we left the public areas. The wallpaper had bright patches, highlighting where pictures used to hang.

  “Col?” I asked.

  “I have a bad feeling about what’s going on. Let’s find Melly.”

  We reached her door and pushed it open. She sat in a corner, playing silently with a rag doll. She turned toward the door with wide, fearful eyes that became curious as we entered. I moved toward her, sitting on the floor next to her to be more at her eye level. Colin pulled over a small chair, his knees near his shoulders, looking ridiculous.

  I giggled. “Col, you look a buffoon.”

  He winked at Melly. “I know.” He watched her with serious eyes. “We’re your brother and sister, Melinda. I’m Colin, and she’s Clarissa. I doubt you remember us, as we left a long time ago. But we’ve never forgotten you and wanted to visit you when we were home.”

  She watched us wide-eyed, glancing from Colin to me, but not speaking. “Do you think she can speak, Col?”

  He shrugged his shoulders in response and pulled out a wrapped present from his pocket. “We know you just celebrated your second birthday the end of November and wanted to bring you a present.”

  “Present?” she whispered in a childish lisp, reaching out to touch the box before grabbing her hand back.

  “It’s all right,” I said, softly touching her arm. She pulled her arm away from me, although she sat in the same place. “Here. Open it, Melly.”

  She bit her lip, tracing the paper and pink ribbon. I nodded encouragingly, and she smiled shyly. When she pulled off the pink ribbon, she tried to pull the paper away, little by little.

  “No, Melly. Like this,” Colin said as he ripped the paper and made a loud tearing sound.

  She shook her head with her eyes going round. She darted a glance toward the door and whispered, “No noise. No noise!”

  I frowned, reaching out to rub my hand down her head and over her shoulders, while sharing a worried glance with Colin. “A little noise is all right, Melly,” I whispered. “Let’s see what the box holds.”

  She leaned forward, pulling off the lid and clapped her hands together without making any sound. As she bounced in place in excitement, I helped her pull out the small porcelain doll. “We thought you might like this. I had a similar doll when I was your age,” I said.

  She turned eyes filled with wonder and delight to Colin and then me. “Mine?”

  I blinked away tears as I nodded and again stroked her head. “Of course. You are our sister. Although we haven’t seen you since you were a baby, we wanted you to know we miss you and love you.”

  She smiled, and it looked like she was giggling, but again she made no noise. She traced her doll’s dress, and I picked up her rag doll. Soon we were having a doll tea party. Although my greatest desire was to make a racket, I knew that would not help Melinda, as she was trapped in this house.

  I turned as the door opened, and Bridget entered. “It’s time for the little miss to prepare for dinner. You are asked to leave.”

  I watched all the joy and spirit leave Melinda at these words. “We’ll try to come back,” I whispered. She nodded, staring at the floor, her rag doll clutched to her.

  I leaned forward, kissing the top of her head. “Take good care of yourself, darling sister.”

  Colin ruffled her hair and then followed me out the door. We descended the stairs and exited onto the front steps. “We have to see her again,” Colin said with thinly veiled anger. “She shouldn’t be living like that.”

  “I know, Col. We have to do what we can, although I don’t know as there’s much to be done. We won’t be here that long. It’s already the beginning of December, and I want to be in Missoula with Gabriel for Christmas.”

  We walked toward Sophie’s, worrying about Melly, and what we could do from Missoula. “As to that, Rissa, I think I’ll stay here for a bit to help Richard run the forge. I’d like to work with him, and I need to do this before returning to Montana.”

  “But you will return?” I asked, unable to hide my anxiety.

  “That’s my plan.”

  I frowned, because I knew how quickly plans changed, especially for Sullivans.

  “Come. You need to focus on your meeting tomorrow with Cameron,” Colin said. I shivered, and all thoughts of Melinda fled as fear and trepidation filled me.

  CHAPTER 13

  I ENTERED THE TEA SHOP and glanced around. Nearly every table was filled, and waiters scurried from table to table, carrying empty plates, teapots or heavy platters of sandwiches. The dark wood paneling, high coffered ceilings and orbed light fixtures lent the room a European feel. I saw Florence seated at a table next to Cameron, fiddling with a camera, acting the part of a vapid society matron. I bit back a nervous smile as I approached Cameron and avoided glancing in Florence’s direction. The seat open to me was the one that put my back to Florence, allowing Florence to have a decent view of Cameron.

  “You’ve finally seen reason and decided I am your better option,” Cameron said. He asked the waiter to bring tea for me and coffee for him. “I was most gratified when I received your note.”

  “I wasn’t certain where to send it as I did not know where you are staying.”

  “My mother passes along any messages she deems important.” Cameron clasped my hand, and I hoped he failed to note my instinctive flinch at his touch.

  I nodded at the waiter as our tea, coffee and cakes were delivered. I prepared my cup, tapping the spoon with such agitated force I worried I’d chip the fine china. “How did you do it?”

  “Ah, you are curious about the most inconsequential details. All that should matter to you is that I’m adroit enough to escape the net of one such as Mrs. Bouchard.”

  “And turn a profit.” I heard a clicking sound behind me and hoped Florence was taking photos.

  “You wouldn’t think I’d return a pauper? My family was in need of funds.”

  “And the poor man you killed?” I asked.

  “I shouldn’t think he would have survived the winter, what with the amount he drank every day. He would most likely have died of exposure at some point.” Cameron grinned, appearing satisfied with himself. “I’d always thought that Sebastian Carlin was too honorable for his own good. And then, when he entered the mill in an attempt to save who he thought was me, it was perfect.”

  “Why?” I asked with a bright smile. I leaned forward, loosening my hand from beneath his and stroking the top of his hand. His eyes flared, and I had to battle my inherent fear at being near him.

  “Because he left his office and I had easy access to the safe. Just that week, Mr. Bouchard had given me the combination to it. I couldn’t have found a better way to distract the people of the mill and have access to the mill’s safe.”

  “You killed a man and intentionally ruined the reputation of another.”

  Cameron shrugged. “It allowed me to come home. Not as triumphantly had we married.”

  “Had you obtained my dowry.” I was unable to hide the bitterness from my voice.

  “Of course. It’s why men like me would ever be interested in women from your class.” He studied me. “I would have kept you in much better style than that laborer. Look at what he’s made you. A frumpy woman in last year’s style, with little to no hope of betterment. It’s rather pathetic.”

  “You’re pathetic,” I said as I leaned away from him and gripped my hands together on my lap. “You who think th
at the pursuit of money at any cost will bring you happiness. I loathe you.”

  “Think what you will, Clarissa, but I’m here, sitting in a tea shop with you rather than rotting in some jail in Missoula.”

  “As I told Jonas, you too will receive what you deserve, and when you do, no one will come to your aid,” I hissed. I rose, bumping the table and sloshing the tea and coffee, spilling a bit of both onto his suit. At his hiss of displeasure, I smiled with bitter satisfaction. “All you hold dear is nothing but a mirage, and someday you’ll rue the time you’ve wasted.”

  I marched out of the tea shop without a backward glance.

  ***

  FOUR DAYS LATER we gathered again in Sophie’s sitting room. I waited for Florence and Richard to arrive, as they were coming with the developed pictures. Jeremy and Savannah were already present, seated on the settee. Colin paced in front of the fireplace while Sophie and I sat next to each other in matching lady’s chairs.

  “Florence, show us the pictures,” Sophie demanded as a breathless Florence entered the sitting room. “Once you are settled,” Sophie amended, taking in Florence’s flushed face and labored movement.

  Florence eased herself into a chair and took a few moments to calm her breathing. She smiled in gratitude at the proffered cup of tea from Savannah, taking a small sip as she relaxed fully. Richard stood beside her. He fidgeted from foot to foot and waved away the offer of a chair.

  “I’m afraid not many are any good. They’re very grainy. However, I do have a decent one, when he is leaning in.” She extracted the photos from a brown paper wrapping and handed the top one to me. I blanched as I stared at it. In it, Cameron was staring at me intently, holding my hand.

  I handed the picture to Sophie. “Well, this looks a bit … intimate,” she said as she raised quizzical aquamarine eyes to me.

  I flushed and lowered my gaze.

  Richard stopped fidgeting and placed a hand on Florence’s shoulder. “Care to tell us what was going on in that?” Richard demanded.

  I flinched at his cold tone.