Escape To Love: Banished Saga, Book 6

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Escape To Love: Banished Saga, Book 6 Page 4

by Ramona Flightner


  “I do. It was nearly impossible to put on, but I didn’t want to ask you for help and ruin one part of the wedding tradition.” She turned around, and he marveled that she’d successfully buttoned her dress. His nimble fingers quickly freed her.

  “That’s so unfair,” she whispered. “It took you moments to free me, whereas it took me nearly an hour to button this dress by myself.”

  “I’m sorry, Vivie. I should have seen to a maid for you today.” He sighed, watching her expression for any upset. “You’ll have to instruct me on how to properly attend to my wife.”

  “Obviously you need my guidance,” she quipped with a smile.

  He chuckled. “Don’t take too long, love. I want to celebrate us with our friends.” He kissed her nape and left her in privacy to change.

  Late-morning light seeped in around the curtains. Lucas held a dozing Genevieve against him, nuzzling the back of her neck as he fought wakening.

  “This is lovely,” she murmured.

  He grunted his approval. “It would be better if someone delivered breakfast with a gallon of coffee,” he said. He felt her chuckle and smiled into her hair. He relaxed into her, his mind absently playing over the events of the previous day. Their wedding. Helping her from her wedding dress. Attending a small dinner with his friends, and watching her shine as she discussed current affairs, literature, and art with Perry.

  He recalled her nervousness upon their return to their rooms, and her inability to hide her relief when he repeated that nothing would happen between them unless she wanted it to. He battled a groan of disappointment that he’d been forced to accept cuddling her in his arms but then smiled when he thought of the evening he’d spent in the chair on the train. “Much better,” he murmured.

  He stiffened and raised his neck at a loud knocking on the sitting room door. “Stay here,” he said as he rose. He pulled on a pair of pants and rubbed his head as he moved to the door. “Coming,” he called out. He swore as he bumped his bare toe against a table leg and flung the door open. His eyes widened in surprise to find Mr. Tyler in the hallway. Lucas stepped forward, impeding the man’s entrance into the suite.

  “I demand to see my daughter,” Genevieve’s father said in a loud, imperious voice. He pushed at Lucas, but he held his ground.

  “You have not been invited in, and you are not welcome here. Please wait in the lobby downstairs while I discuss your precipitous arrival with my wife.” His head jerked backward as his father-in-law backhanded him.

  “You scum. You think to marry my daughter?” His eyes lit with hatred, he leaned toward Lucas. “I will never allow such an alliance.” His nostrils flared as he took in Lucas’s appearance—ruffled hair, shirtless, half-buttoned pants, and bare feet.

  Lucas smiled. “I’m afraid you missed our nuptials yesterday. We had a wonderful ceremony.” He grimaced when he heard Genevieve stirring in the bedroom.

  “Genevieve!” Mr. Tyler’s voice boomed through the suite. “Come here this instant.”

  Lucas looked over his shoulder and shrugged at her. “If you do not care to follow your father’s commands, you no longer have to. You must do only what you choose.”

  She raised her chin and moved into the sitting room. “Lucas, husband, please allow my father to enter our sitting room. I’d hate for the guests of this fine hotel to learn more about our affairs than is necessary.”

  Lucas winked at her and stepped aside, allowing Mr. Tyler to enter. Lucas moved to Genevieve’s side, taking her hand in his.

  “I’m surprised to see you so soon.”

  Mr. Tyler paced through the room, slapping his hat against his thigh every few steps. “If a loyal friend hadn’t informed me of what he’d witnessed at South Station, I wouldn’t have known what you and your duplicitous sister had planned. I never thought my eldest daughters would act in such a shameful manner.”

  Genevieve stood taller next to Lucas. “Just as I never would have believed my father would act with such a disregard for my future happiness by engaging me against my will to such a vile man as Mr. Carlisle.” She shook with anger at her father’s attempt at righteous indignation.

  “I was considering your future. What was best for you,” he snapped. “Unlike this carpetbagger who insists upon wreaking havoc on our family.” He waved at Lucas. “I thought you’d learned your lesson after Parthena. Or is one sister as good as another, as long as you marry up?”

  Lucas’s jaw ticked as he fought his anger. “I refuse to be goaded into an argument with a man who has less honor than anyone of my acquaintance.”

  “You have no idea what honor is, you vile seducer,” Mr. Tyler roared. “First it was Parthena. Now it’s Genevieve. Who will it be next spring?”

  Lucas ran a hand down Genevieve’s back in an attempt to soothe her. “I am married to Genevieve. There will be no one else.”

  Her father snorted out an incredulous laugh. “So you say. But all you musicians are the same. I can hardly credit my plain, plump, unremarkable daughter as one to keep you interested.”

  Lucas leapt forward, grabbing his father-in-law by his lapels. “I suggest you speak with more respect about my wife.” He met Mr. Tyler’s glare. “I will not countenance any further disparaging remarks about Vivie. She is a remarkable woman, and it is your misfortune you’re unable to recognize it.”

  Mr. Tyler stepped back from Lucas, breaking his hold. “You will have no money from me.” He met his daughter’s gaze with one filled with contempt. “You have shirked your duty as a Tyler, as a sister, and as my daughter. As of this moment, I have only two daughters.”

  “God help them,” Lucas said. “If this is how you show your care, then I pity them.”

  Mr. Tyler strode to the door and spun to face them. “If I find out that your wedding was a sham, I will return for Genevieve, who will travel with me to Boston. Mr. Carlisle is not as particular as some about virgin brides.”

  He wrenched open the door, slamming it shut behind him. Genevieve collapsed to the floor, shaking as she curled up into herself. Lucas knelt beside her, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her. He sat cross-legged and pulled her between his legs to hold her against his chest.

  “Shh, … little love, there’s nothing to worry about. A pastor sanctioned our wedding. It will be registered by now. We are wed.” He kissed her. “You are safe.”

  She shook. “No. It’s as my father said. I fear I’ve gone from one man’s control to another.”

  Lucas murmured distressed noises.

  “I never thought he cared enough to come after me.”

  Lucas sighed into her hair, holding her while remaining silent.

  She burrowed into his embrace as she allowed herself to be soothed for a few moments. “Although it wasn’t about me, was it? It was about appearances and money. Like always with Father.”

  “He must be much worse at managing money than anyone knew,” Lucas said with a half chuckle. When he felt her tense, he said, “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to disrespect your father.”

  “How are you with finances?” she whispered, unable to hide the fear in her voice.

  “I’m fairly proficient handling my money,” he said. “I have no false pride in that regard, so I’ve asked my cousin’s father, Aidan McLeod, to manage it for me. He’s a sort of financial genius in Boston.”

  Genevieve eased away from him in confusion. “Few men would acknowledge their weaknesses with such honesty.”

  Lucas shrugged, swiping away wisps of loose hair from the side of her face. “I choose to focus on what I love and what I’m good at. Managing money has never fascinated me. Why not turn it over to a man I trust who relishes the challenge?” He smiled as he kissed her brow. “I keep telling you how I’m not like the men from your ballrooms. I hope you’ll come to realize that’s true.”

  She stroked her hand against his cheek, already turning red from her father’s blow. “Does this hurt?”

  Lucas laughed. “I’ve received worse roughhousing with the
McLeod brothers. I’m fine, Vivie.” He turned his head, kissing the palm of her hand.

  She leaned into his embrace again. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for defending me against my father’s cruel words. Only Parthena has ever defended me in the past.”

  “You are my wife, Vivie. When someone harms you, they harm me. At least that’s how I’ve always envisioned a marriage should be. As a true partnership.”

  She snuggled into him. “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

  Chapter 4

  On December 15, Lucas sat in the back room of the theater, tinkering away with a piece of music. He stretched his fingers and rocked his head from side to side in a modified stretch. He stilled when he felt hands on his shoulders. “Vivie?”

  “I thought you might like a shoulder rub,” she said as she gently kneaded his sore muscles. “You’ve been working so hard these past few days with Mr. Hawke. I can’t wait to hear you perform together.”

  “What did you do today?” he asked, watching her in the mirror and frowning as she blushed.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders and focused on the movement of her hands and his tense muscles. “I read. I went on a short walk.”

  Lucas leaned his head forward, sighing with pleasure as her fingers found a knot. “Just there,” he murmured.

  Vivie squeaked as Perry’s deep teasing voice said, “I should know better than to interrupt newlyweds.”

  “You should know better than to interrupt her massage,” Lucas said. He stifled a groan as she continued her ministrations. He tilted his head toward his friend and flashed him a smile. “And, no, she won’t give you one.”

  Perry laughed, slumping into an armchair. “Why is it the back of a theater is always the receptacle for the most uncomfortable furniture?”

  “I think it’s so the actors aren’t comfortable onstage,” Lucas said, earning a chuckle from Genevieve. “What’s the matter, Perry?”

  “They are recording tonight’s performance.”

  Lucas shrugged. “It’s nothing new. I’m not surprised as it’s the first time we’ve officially been onstage together.”

  “Drunken afterparties don’t count,” Genevieve murmured, earning a startled laugh from Lucas.

  “What else, Perry?” Lucas asked, sighing with regret as he turned to face his friend, causing Genevieve’s massage to cease. Lucas grabbed her hand, holding it between his.

  “Are you certain we can’t do more than this one show? Enough people are interested that we could do a month’s worth of performances. People are coming from New York City to see the show tonight.” His eyes were lit with excitement.

  Lucas shook his head. “No, one night only. After tonight, I’m continuing with my sabbatical from the stage and will focus on composing. Besides, Christmas is coming, and my wife and I should be with family.” He smiled at his friend. “I can promise that I’ll consider touring with you one day.” That earned a relieved smile from Perry.

  “Well, I must adjourn to my sumptuous rooms to warm up my voice. I’ll see you onstage.” Perry smiled at Lucas and Genevieve before closing the door behind him.

  “Where do you want me to sit during the performance?” Genevieve asked, moving to the seat Perry had just vacated.

  Lucas toyed with piano keys, absentmindedly playing scales. “Wherever you’ll be most comfortable. If you prefer to sit on the side and watch from there, that’s fine. I do have a reserved seat for you in the first row of the mezzanine. You’ll hear Perry’s voice best from there.”

  She smiled. “And I’ll hear you best from there too.” She nodded. “That’s where I’ll sit. I’ve never heard you perform in a theater before, and I want to hear you from the best seat in the house, picked out by you.”

  He flushed. “I won’t acknowledge you there, Vivie. I mean no disrespect. It’s that, when I go onstage, I ignore everyone in the audience. I can feel the energy of the crowd, but, if I focused on someone, I’d be unable to perform.”

  She laughed. “I highly doubt that. You’d still play beautifully. But I understand.” She rose and kissed him on the cheek. “I will see you afterward, Lucas.”

  Tears streamed down her face as she listened to Lucas and Perry perform. No papers rustled; no voices whispered, and no one dared sniffle—as though all present understood they were witnessing musical perfection that evening. She closed her eyes for a moment as she listened to Perry’s voice sing of lost love and Lucas’s mournful counterpoint on the piano. When Perry’s voice faded away, and Lucas leaned back from the piano keys, a moment of complete silence enveloped the theater. Then a roar of applause burst forth, echoing off the walls.

  Amid calls of “Encore!” Lucas and Perry bowed and smiled to the crowd. They walked off the stage, and the lights came up, signaling the performance had ended. Genevieve sat for a few moments as the crowd disbursed, listening to the contented chatter of the theatergoers.

  Finally she rose and descended the stairs to the main lobby. “Mrs. Russell?” an usher asked as he approached her. With her nod, he said, “Please follow me.”

  She smiled and slipped through the crowd behind the usher, through a hidden side door and to the rear of the theater. When she arrived at Lucas’s backstage room, she heard the sound of laughter and champagne bottles popping open. She stepped inside, watching as Lucas laughed and hugged those present. The majority were stylishly dressed women, and he kept an arm slung around one of their waists as he raised a flute for a deep sip. The woman leaned in to whisper something into his ear, and he flung his head back as he laughed.

  Someone bumped into her, and Lucas saw her.

  He dropped his arm from the woman’s waist and moved to meet her. “Vivie!” he said.

  She studied him, realizing she’d never seen such exhilaration in his expression before.

  “Congratulations, Lucas. It was beautiful.” She bit her lip at her stilted, cold words. She lost her balance as she was jostled again, missing Lucas’s frown. “I hadn’t realized there’d be such a party.”

  “This is the small one!” Perry said as he thrust a champagne flute into her hands. “Wait until we reach the one at the club!”

  Lucas backed her into a corner, away from the crowd. “Are you all right, Vivie?” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He smiled at someone who slapped him on his back.

  “I’m not used to parties like this,” she said.

  “Celebrate with me?” he asked.

  She heard the note of pleading in his voice, and the stiffness in her shoulders eased. “Of course,” she said. She laced her fingers with his and allowed him to pull her into the mingling crowd as he interacted and joked with his friends. While she smiled at times, she refrained from interjecting anything.

  Later that evening, Lucas and Genevieve returned to their rooms at the West Hotel. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned hugely as he shut and locked the main door behind them. Genevieve waited for some teasing word, but he’d remained silent since they’d left the party. She performed her nightly ablutions, slipped into her nightclothes, and then into bed.

  Lucas left the bedroom for the sitting room upon exiting the bathroom. When she woke in the middle of the night and reached for him, his side of the bed was cold. Once she’d freed herself from the covers entangling her, she wandered into the sitting room to find Lucas sitting in a gentlemen’s chair with his head in his hands.

  “Lucas?” she whispered. “Why won’t you come to bed?”

  He shook his head and refrained from looking at her. “I’m a musician, Vivie. It’s what I do. It’s how I earn a living.” He paused. “It’s what I love.”

  She frowned as she crept toward him. She perched on the edge of a low table in front of him. “I know.”

  He raised angry, hurt eyes to her. “It would have been nice if you could have shown some joy in what Perry and I accomplished last night.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “What are you talking about? Of course I did.”

  He rolled h
is eyes. “I know you didn’t. You looked at me …” He paused as though fighting deep emotions. “You looked at me like how my mother did after I performed.”

  “I can’t have,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of you, Lucas.” Her voice broke as she gripped his hands.

  “You didn’t even want to be in my dressing room after the performance!”

  “How did you expect me to act when you were hugging and kissing numerous women and stood with your arm draped around a woman gorgeous enough to be in the moving pictures?” she snapped.

  Lucas jerked his head back in shock. “What?”

  She glared at him. “I came back there, filled with so much joy and happiness and wonder at the beauty you created, to be met with you fawning over those … those …” She glared at him when he laughed. “Don’t make light of me!”

  “Oh, Vivie, I’m laughing at the two of us. What idiots we are.” He rubbed at the furrows between her brows and sighed. “The woman who you think was so gorgeous is the woman who broke Perry’s heart. I was trying to keep her away from him and from inflicting any further damage.”

  He waited a moment as the silence between them became more harmonious. “You liked what you heard?”

  “I loved it. I cried the entire third encore. I felt as though my heart were breaking as Perry sang and you enhanced his voice. Oh, Lucas, you must tour with him someday. Others must have the privilege of hearing such beautiful music.” Tears leaked out as she spoke.

  His smile bloomed as his thumbs traced away her tears. “You really liked it.” He pulled her from the table and into his arms. “I was devastated when I thought you didn’t.”

  “As my Irish nanny used to say, Don’t be daft. Anyone who wasn’t moved in that theater has no heart.” She breathed him in, a mixture of cigar smoke, spilled champagne, cheap perfume, and his musky scent. She wrinkled her nose. “I wish you’d wash. You smell like a cheap bordello.”

 

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