Banished Love (21 page)

I did not answer him for a few moments. “I am tired of providing constant amusement for my family.”

“You still haven’t answered my original question. But I wouldn’t let a little teasing by your family prevent you from living your life,” Gabriel murmured.

As we continued our walk, I stumbled once on the trolley tracks. Gabriel gripped my arm to prevent me from falling.

“Miss,” Gabriel said, “you know it would be much safer for you if you didn’t walk everywhere.”

I recognized a rhetorical question, deciding not to answer it.

“You should consider taking streetcars whenever possible.”

“I like to walk,” I replied, as I jumped out of the way of a horse and buggy. Gabriel simply watched me, making me believe he did not agree with me, but that he would not argue.

We arrived at my home, and I could think of no way to prolong my time with him.

“We seem to have arrived, miss. I believe you have some thinking to do. I wish you a good day.”

“Wait, do you think you could walk me to my uncle’s? It’s only a little bit farther.”

“Of course, Miss Clarissa.” We turned from my house and headed toward Uncle Martin’s store.

“Mr. McLeod, I can’t remember if I have told you, but my father just remarried.” At this I had to clear my throat before continuing. “I call her by her first married name, Mrs. Smythe, though I have been told to call her Mrs. Sullivan. Anyway, she had tea at our house yesterday, with someone I believe you know well. A Mrs. Masterson?” I felt his body jerk, and he stopped short to stare at me.

“You had tea yesterday with Aunt Masterson?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes, and it was very unpleasant.”

“Well, most things to do with her are.” He continued to look at me as though trying to figure out a puzzle. Finally, he gave a small nod and turned to continue walking toward Russell’s. “Did she have anything of interest to say?”

“She had nothing complimentary to say about anyone except her own family,” I replied.

“Did she mention me or my brothers?”

“Yes, she did.”

“And?”

“It appears that you were always a trial to her, and she can’t imagine why you would want to be a carpenter rather than work in an office with her husband. She didn’t appear to like either of your brothers.”

“No, she can’t imagine I would want to be my own boss rather than work for her miserly husband. Working for a pittance.” He took a deep breath, then smiled at me. “I am sorry you had to have tea with her.”

“So am I. She managed to insult everyone in my family. The only person she seems to like is Mrs. Smythe, who she also insulted.” I waved away my thoughts on Mrs. Smythe. “However, I am curious about one thing. What argument did Richard and her son have? Colin also alluded to it last night before Richard joined us and again this morning while escorting me to school.”

At this, Gabriel laughed. “Oh, that’s a good tale. But one that should be told by Richard. He’s the storyteller of the family. Ask him next time you see him.” Gabriel continued to smile.

We arrived at Russell’s, and I turned to Gabriel to take my leave.

He looked at me intently, finally murmuring, “Don’t take too much time deciding what you want.” He then took my gloved hand, kissing my knuckles. “I bid you a good day, Miss Clarissa,” he whispered with a warm smile before turning and walking away.

CHAPTER 22

IT WAS A CRISP SATURDAY EVENING in late May, and earlier in April I had accepted an invitation from the Dickersons for a dinner party with Jonas and Savannah, which I now felt obligated to attend. The Dickersons were important members of Boston society and Jonas’ good friends. I was tempted to beg a headache, but, once an invitation had been accepted, only death was an acceptable excuse, or so Jonas said with a fiercely disapproving frown.

I entered the Dickersons’ house, trying not to feel overly awed by the elegant furnishings. The house was far grander than the simpler homes I was accustomed to, and I had to force myself not to gape in awe. It seemed as though I had entered a miniature palace.

The front hall was at least three times as large as our entryway, with a towering black walnut staircase at one end, each spindle elaborately carved. The rail formed an animal like paw as it met large newel posts at the landing in the front hall. An ornate lamp exuding a gentle light was mounted on top of the newel post in the hallway. Upon glancing up the stairs toward the landing, I saw a beautiful stained-glass window featuring a Romanesque woman sitting in her bowery. I wished I could see the stained glass lit from behind on a sunny day, its kaleidoscope of colors cascading down onto the surroundings. The hardwood floors, polished to a high gleam where visible, were covered in plush green-and-black oriental rugs. The elaborate mahogany hall stand had enough coat pegs for at least ten coats, although we gave our wraps to a waiting maid.

“Miss Russell,” the hostess, Mrs. Dickerson, greeted us, delicately taking Savannah’s hand. “What a pleasure to see you again. I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight.” She turned toward me, an assessing glance taking in my appearance. I glanced down, thinking that my ice-blue satin evening dress, white gloves and matching shoes were quite stylish. I had even worn an extra petticoat and silk stockings.

“Mrs. Dickenson,” replied Savannah, with a small nod, “thank you for the invitation. I would like to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Clarissa Sullivan.” Mrs. Dickenson nodded her dismissal and departed to greet arriving guests.

Savannah hooked her arm through Jonas’s elbow, entering the formal parlor. I followed behind into the sumptuously large room, continuing to marvel at the molding, the gold-colored silk wallpaper, the thick cranberry-colored damask draperies, the grand piano in the corner. All flat surfaces were covered with different types of cloths, with red the dominant color. A prominently displayed bust of an imposing-looking man on a pedestal stood to one side, and an étagère of travel knickknacks hung on the wall near the piano. Scattered throughout were potted plants and ferns, lending an exotic feel.

After entering the room, I accepted a glass of wine and headed to a quiet corner. I felt lonely, noting I appeared to be the only unattached guest, so I decided to stand next to the marble bust to give myself the illusion of a companion. My goal for the evening was to be as unobtrusive as possible. Savannah hoped that by watching polite society interact, I would begin to learn how to better compose myself. Listening to the guests’ discussions throughout the room, all the mingling voices sounded mildly bored or authoritative; I had no desire to join any of their conversations.

“Enjoying the scene, Rissa?”

I jumped, nearly spilling my wine, hoping I had not actually shrieked. I gave silent thanks I had not knocked over the bust of some long-lost ancestor. I turned toward the invader of my calm musings. “Please leave me alone. Go away. Now.” I spoke in a low, nearly hissing, voice. I attempted to paste a peaceful, serene expression on my face.

“No. I finally have you in a place where you can’t run away from me, and I am going to speak my piece.”

Cameron looked up and smiled at Jonas, who nodded in acknowledgment. Savannah looked over at us with a horrified expression, which she quickly masked. She tried to make her way toward us, but Jonas prevented her from walking toward me by firmly gripping her elbow and steering her in the opposite direction.

“You know Jonas?” I asked, eyes narrowing as I contemplated that bit of information.

“Of course. We go back a ways. Families and all that. We know each other best from law school. He owed me a favor, and this is it,” he said with a smug smile.

“If you wanted to see me, you should have called at my door and asked permission to speak with me,” I retorted, beginning to lose my calm facade.

“And be humiliated by being refused admittance? No, Rissa. I had to think of another way to see you.”

I glared at him at his use of my nickname.

Then with gentle urgency in his voice, he leaned toward me asking, “Who is that big hulking brute who walked you home the other day?”

“Cameron, I am not your concern anymore. Please desist asking such questions.”

“Oh, you most definitely are my concern, my Clarissa.” He looked at me. “We almost married, Clarissa. Or did you forget that?” At my sharp indrawn hiss of breath, he smiled, though with a touch of malice. “Ah, I see that you remember. We were in love, and I never forgot you. Why do you think I am back?” He looked at me with intense brown eyes.

“We
were
in love. We
almost
married. Neither are the case anymore. Everything changed when you failed to show on our wedding day,” I retorted, trying to maintain a calm countenance for the sake of the other guests and for my own pride. I had a sense I failed miserably as my cheeks felt hot, and I was short of breath.

“Rissa, it’s been to my everlasting regret that I did not come to our wedding. What can I say? I panicked. I felt like I was being trapped into a world, into a life, that I didn’t want. You must admit, marrying you wasn’t gaining me any social standing. Unfortunately I realized after I left that I did want that world. I did want you.”

“You speak to me like this, after years of absence and abject silence, thinking this is the way to woo me? Court me?” I snapped, though kept my voice low. “Do you really think insulting me and my family are the way to my heart? If you truly wanted me, you could have had me, Cameron. You are about two years too late.”

“You can’t mean that, Clarissa,” Cameron pleaded. “You must give me another chance.”

I sighed, the anger leaving as quickly as it had come, desolation at his perfidy nearly overwhelming me. “Cameron, you were the one who spoke so confidently about our future lives together. But I’ve come to realize it was all just talk with you, wasn’t it? You didn’t really want
me
, just the talking about it. The danger, the excitement, of going against your exalted family.” I heard the bitterness in my voice but couldn’t mask it.

I paused to study him for a moment and realized he seemed
less
to me somehow. Less vivacious, less charming, less handsome, less endearing. Nothing at all like the memory I had clung to for the past two years.

“How dare you speak about my family’s social standing? We are an upstanding, successful, hardworking family. You should be proud to know us. To marry me,” I snapped, turning from him. He gripped my arm, preventing me from walking away.

“I never realized how weak a man you are until now,” I said.

At my words, he blanched and finally released my arm. “Rissa…” he pleaded.

“I am Miss Sullivan to you, sir, please don’t forget that. You owe me that modicum of respect,” I replied.

I turned my back to him and walked toward Savannah, who watched me from across the room with worried eyes. A sense of calm settled over me the more distance I put between Cameron and myself.

The dinner party continued endlessly, with the women content to continue their tittering and gossiping in the parlor, finally sitting in small conversation groups. I smiled, fearing I seemed a vapid simpleton, but could not muster the energy to engage in a conversation. Thankfully Savannah busily entertained the small group with details from her upcoming wedding. Finally after an interminable dinner, Jonas, Savannah and I were able to take our leave.

“What could you have been thinking?” Savannah asked Jonas in the carriage. “You should have separated Cameron and Clarissa immediately.”

“I will do what I deem best, Savannah,” Jonas said. “No matter what your family decrees.”

“He has no right…”

“He has every right to speak with her if he wishes. And that is enough on the topic,” Jonas said in an authoritative voice.

I sat next to Savannah, shaking in fury, but unable to form a coherent sentence.

***

AFTER I ENTERED THE FRONT HALL, removed my coat and walked up the stairs, I peeked into da’s study. He sat in a dilapidated chair near the fire studying the smoldering flames in the grate. A lamp was lit near the doorway, emitting a weak light. Long shadows highlighted the bookshelves on the far side of the room and his desk piled with mounds of paperwork.

“Da?”

“Ah, Rissa darling, you’re home,” da said. He motioned for me to enter and I sat next to him on a padded footstool. “How was the party?”

“Cameron was there.” I whispered the words, hoping the gentle delivery would temper da’s ire.

He reached down, gripping my shoulder. I turned to face him. “Savannah and her Jonas kept you away from him.” I closed my eyes at his statement, as for him there was no question that they would prevent me from being in Cameron’s presence.

“No, Da. They didn’t.” He pursed his lips and his grip on my shoulder tightened. “Jonas knows Cameron. Says he owed Cameron a favor and helping Cameron find a way to speak with me was a way to repay the debt.”

“And they say that those in society are genteel?” Da hissed. “Do they have no sense, leaving you to listen to the filthy lies of such a man?” He reached down to cup the left side of my face. “Are you all right, my Clarissa?”

“Yes, Da. We were in a roomful of people and although I would prefer not to speak with him again, I am fine.”

“When does the school year end?”

“In a few weeks. But please let me finish it, Da. Please. I need to teach. I need that purpose to my life. I can’t be confined to the house. Not with…” I grimaced at the thought of being in the house with Mrs. Smythe. Of having no way to see Gabriel.

“Rissa, I know you need to teach, but keeping you safe must be my first priority. I wish your mother were here to give me good, sensible advice.”

“She’d want me to be happy, Da.”

“She’d want you safe.” He said as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “For now, you can continue to teach, but it’s open for discussion if you see him again.” He raised his eyebrows as he watched me. I nodded. I stood, kissed him on his forehead and left to prepare for bed.

***

SAVANNAH FOUND ME HOME ALONE the following afternoon, sipping a strong cup of tea in the parlor, lost in thought. Mrs. Smythe followed her in but, in an uncommon act of kindness, realized we needed to be left alone.