Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four (32 page)

“He said something that upset you,” Colin said, licking away the foam from his lip.

“When doesn’t he say things that upset me?” Gabriel sighed. “He intentionally abused her, merely because he could. He has no plans to aid her in any way or the child. It brings him joy to have harmed her and to have ruined the child’s life.”

“What kind of person does that?” Colin asked.

“A very sick man,” Gabriel said. “I always thought he was … more interested in men. But I realize now he only cares about causing pain. As long as he could harm your Fiona, he found her attractive.”

“What will you do, Pat?” Colin asked, sharing a worried glance with Gabriel as Patrick remained quiet through their discussion.

“I used to see no color in this world. I saw no beauty and was unable to work as an architect. You need to appreciate beauty, to see the soft curves, the importance of light, to envision space.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “When I met Fiona, I again dreamed in color, imagining a time when my life did not consist of row after row of numbers.”

“And now?” Gabriel asked.

“Now I only see red. Every shade of it.” He shared a long look with Gabriel.

“No matter how you feel, you can’t kill him,” Gabriel said as Colin nodded. Gabe sat back in his chair and stared at the stained ceiling. “I keep asking myself what Uncle Aidan would do. He’d hire the best lawyer money could buy and free your Fiona from her first husband. And then he’d find someone to protect her.”

“Sav has the money for an attorney, and I’m sure she’d be happy to give it to you,” Colin said.

When Patrick protested, Gabriel said, “She’d be the first to want to help a woman escape an abusive man. Besides, you need to realize you have family around you again, and we refuse to allow you to suffer when we can help you.

After a long moment, Patrick nodded. “I need to write her a letter.”

“We have to return to Missoula tomorrow, so we can deliver it for you,” Gabriel said. He speared Patrick with an intense stare. “This is the easy part—hiring the lawyer and freeing Fiona from her murderous husband. It’s deciding what you want to do afterward that’ll be the true challenge.”

Z
ylphia rushed
into the crowded parlor of a mansion on Commonwealth Avenue, rows of chairs filled with women avidly listening to the speaker at the front of the room. Zylphia frowned as she saw all the seats around Parthena and Rowena were occupied, noting their apologetic smiles as Zylphia came to an abrupt halt. She looked around for another seat, smiling as Sophie waved her over.

“About time you arrived,” Sophie grumbled. “I’ve had to be most injudicious with my cane in order to save you this seat.”

Zylphia smothered a laugh as she imagined the women who’d had the temerity to approach Sophie and who’d left with a bruised shin. Zylphia sat with a satisfied sigh, her purse held on her lap. “I was painting and forgot the hour.”

“You’ve all but missed the meeting,” Sophie murmured. However, she smiled graciously as the women in front of the group nodded toward her and said they thought Mrs. Chickering’s idea had the most merit.

After which the group of women relaxed in their seats and talked among themselves. Tea and snacks were made available in a side room, and the crowd slowly dispersed.

“What was that all about?” Zylphia asked.

“A measure will be on next year’s ballot, asking the men of Massachusetts to grant suffrage to women.”

“Finally,” Zylphia breathed.

“There is concern the result will be as dismal as 1895, and we refuse to be thwarted this time.”

“Excellent. I’m sure you have a wonderful plan.” She smiled at Parthena and Rowena who joined them, pulling now-empty chairs from a nearby row to sit with them.

“Will you do it?” Parthena asked Zee.

“What do I have to do with anything?” Zylphia asked, confused.

“You are essential, dear girl, to my proposition,” Sophie said. “We must learn the tactics of successful states seeking the vote. I’m certain, with women such as your cousins petitioning for the vote, that there will be success in Montana this November.”

“You want me to travel to Montana?” Zylphia asked.

“Yes. You’re the only one here with family there. It makes the most sense.” She watched Zylphia with wry humor in her eyes. “Besides, I believe a change of scenery could be what you need.”

“You don’t want me here?” Zylphia whispered.

“Come now. None of that nonsense,” Sophie said, her voice tinged with impatience. “I thought you’d rather travel there than the other states where the question is on the ballot.”

Zylphia ticked them off in her mind: Nevada, Nebraska, Ohio, Missouri, and North and South Dakota. She nodded at Sophie.

“You’ve often spoken of your desire to do more for the movement, and this is your chance.”

“Of course I’d prefer to be with my family in Montana,” Zylphia said, “and if I can help earn us the vote, too …” Her voice trailed away.

“It won’t be as difficult for you, Zee. You’ll be able to travel around with women who are already accepted among the suffragists and the townsfolk there,” Rowena said.

Sophronia watched Zylphia with a knowing glint in her eye. “Excellent. All you must do is convince your father. And be in Montana by the first part of June, I should think.”

“That’s barely two months away.”

“As you have nothing keeping you here, it should pose no difficulties for you,” Sophie said, leaning forward to heave upright.

“I don’t know if I can leave so suddenly,” Zylphia sputtered.

“It will only benefit the men of this town to realize you are a woman of purpose and that you and your beliefs should not be trifled with.”

Zylphia nodded absently at Sophie’s edict.

“Besides, I’ve been informed that Mr. Hubbard has become a bit brazen, and I should think you’d relish a reprieve from his company.”

Zylphia met Sophie’s knowing gaze and acquiesced with a long sigh. Zylphia, Parthena and Rowena walked together with Sophie and paused as a group of women approached them. “Aren’t you excited, Miss McLeod?” one of them gushed.

“I heard you might even have the opportunity to meet Dr. Shaw herself,” another enthused.

Zylphia stiffened as Sophie gave her shin a nudge with her cane. “Of course, I’m quite pleased about my upcoming travels and any opportunity I might have to meet those in leadership of our movement.”

The women bustled past them, leaving Zylphia with her friends. “Well spoken, Zee,” Parthena said.

“None of them would know you’d rather meet Alice than Anna,” Sophie said, with a small cackle of laughter. “Seeing as this group is aligned with NAWSA, best not to ruffle their feathers.” Sophie turned to Parthena and Rowena. “You two should prepare yourself for some sort of work this summer. However, I realize your families aren’t as progressive as Zee’s, and I wouldn’t want to hasten any unfortunate events.” She
harrumph
ed as she turned to walk down the front stairs to her waiting automobile.

* * *

“
I
don’t understand
why you insist on bothering me here,” Zylphia snapped. She flopped onto one of the tufted red velvet chairs in her studio and glared at her mother.

Delia sighed as she wandered toward the front windows, glancing at the discordant colors and shapes in Zylphia’s most recent paintings. “These are different.” She traced a line down one side of a cube meant to be an eye and frowned. “Why?”

“It’s art, Mother. It’s not always meant to be beautiful.”

“Why waste your talent on something so … mediocre?” She watched as Zylphia flinched at her criticism. “They’re not nearly as good as your other work. Something I’m sure you realize, as you are honest with yourself about your art.”

Zylphia covered her face a moment before lowering her hands. “I simply haven’t discovered what will make them … make them …”

“You can’t even determine what you want them to be. They’ll never be beautiful. They’ll never cause someone to stop what they’re doing and lose all sense of themselves staring at your painting. Not like your other work.” Delia turned from the newest paintings and studied Zylphia, her frown deepening. “Zylphia, you must see it yourself too. How your inherent vitality has dimmed. Your eyes that used to sparkle with merriment or mischief are dulled and filled with disillusionment. What’s bothering you, dearest?”

Zylphia shook her head as she battled tears. “Sophie wants me to go to Montana. Learn from Sav and Rissa how to successfully wage a battle for the vote.”

“Why should that upset you?” Delia moved toward the matching chair near Zylphia and reached out a hand to stroke her arm.

“I feel as though she’s banishing me. It’s irrational, I know.”

“You feel safe and secure here, in this home, when you’ve had little security in your life,” Delia murmured.

Zee nodded, exhaling a loud sigh. “It’s childish, but I have this irrational fear that, if I leave you and Father behind now, something will happen, and everything will be different when I come home.”

“Or that your father or I won’t be here,” Delia whispered.

Zylphia lost her battle with tears as they trickled out, forming silver tracks down her cheeks. “It’s stupid.”

Delia moved closer, kneeling on the floor by her daughter and pulling her into her arms. “It’s not, my dearest, beloved daughter.” She ran a hand over Zylphia’s disheveled hair. “Is it because you don’t want to leave someone else here, too?”

Zylphia closed her eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not what any man here would want. Should want. In the end I’d only be a disappointment.”

“What utter nonsense,” Delia hissed. “I knew I should never have agreed to your desire to enter society. There was little to gain and much to lose, as I feared.”

“I know what I am, Mother.”

“And what is that?” Delia demanded, anger lighting her eyes at Zylphia’s resigned tone. “A brave woman, willing to fight for others’ rights and her own? A brilliant artist?” Delia’s jaw firmed with her ire. “I hope you know better than to limit your sense of self due to your youth spent at the orphanage.”

“It has repercussions, Mother. I’m not like the other women I meet.”

“No, you aren’t, thank God.” Delia smiled as she swiped a hand down the side of her daughter’s cheek and rested it on her shoulder. “Zylphia, I can’t promise you nothing will happen to your father or to me—or any other person. That this house will always be here. Life is precarious. Which is why it is precious. Yet I can promise that you’ll never be without those who love and cherish you.”

Zylphia leaned forward, hugging her mother. “I know.” She leaned away. “I want to be of some use for the movement, but I hate the thought of leaving right now.”

“There’s never a good time for leave-taking, Zee.” She squeezed Zylphia’s hand before she gave a small groan as she rose. “I’m getting too old to kneel on floors.”

Zylphia chuckled and gripped her mother’s hand for a moment. “Thank you, Mother.”

Delia gently squeezed hers and left, closing the door softly behind her as Zylphia remained lost in thought.

* * *

A
idan sat
in his comfortable chair in the family parlor, reading the newspaper, a low fire burning in the grate. Delia grumbled over paperwork from the orphanage at her desk, and Zylphia lay curled on a settee, a book held in her hands for show, staring into space. Every few lines of the paper he read, Aidan would glance toward his daughter, frowning more fiercely as he noted her mood.

“Your mother tells me that you’re to travel to Montana to aid in canvassing for the vote,” he said, setting aside the paper and the disturbing news about the Saint Martin in the Fields church bombing the day before in London—with British suffragettes the main suspects. He pointed at the paper even though she was unable to see the article. “I hope you’ll continue to focus on nonviolent ways to achieve your goals.”

Zylphia rolled her eyes at her father. “How many times must I tell you that I don’t condone violence?” Then she smiled at her father. “Would you mind if I traveled to Montana soon?”

“Of course I’ll mind. I hate it when you are away from home. However, I think it will be good for you and important for you to feel a more active participant in the movement you espouse.” He shared a look with Delia. “Will Mr. Hubbard miss you?”

“I doubt it. He’s not truly interested in me but you. I wish men could court each other and leave us poor women alone,” Zylphia grumbled, provoking a startled gasp from Delia and a snicker from Aidan.

“I wouldn’t say that outside this room,” Aidan said as he controlled his mirth. “Although I understand your sentiment. I imagine women tire of feeling like pawns in men’s games.”

Zylphia grunted her agreement. “It would solve a lot of problems.” She shared a smile with her father.

“Not all men are as bad as you make them out to be,” Aidan murmured. He studied her as her gaze became distant again. “And not all men are what they appear.”

Zylphia nodded absently and curled up further into herself on the settee.