Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 (13 page)

“I’ve missed your laugh,” he said huskily before he leaned forward to kiss me.

Soon our hands were grasping at buttons, hems and ties in our agitation to free ourselves from our clothing. I heard Gabriel swear softly as he tripped when stepping out of his pants and giggled again. My breath caught as he winked at me, his face lit with an all-consuming happiness.

I backed toward our bed, and he followed. For some reason, I was suddenly shy and dove under the covers, lying on my side.

“Rissa?” Gabriel asked. His fingertips traced down my back, barely touching. I arched backward, hoping for more of his caress. I felt his weight settle on the bed behind me and then a soft kiss to my nape. “Darling, talk to me.”

I rolled over so that I lay on my back, and he leaned over me, his weight resting on an elbow. He caressed the hair at my brow line, as though to soothe me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry for all the time we lost because I didn’t speak with you sooner. Because I wasn’t brave enough to share my fears.” I raised my hand, tracing his eyebrows, cheek and lips. “Watching you, just now, devastated me. I had always blamed circumstances or those such as my stepmother for separating us. But this was my doing. Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, my beloved darling.” He shifted his position slightly, leaning over me so that the weight of his hips and legs bore me into the soft mattress. I lay on my back, looking up at his serious face.

“I will never regret our life together. I will give thanks, every day, that you are my wife.” He leaned forward, and kissed first one eyelid and then the next. His thumbs swiped away my tears. “I have nothing to forgive, only a plentitude to be thankful for.”

“I hate that the specter of Cameron remains between us.” I was unable to mask my bitterness.

“He is not between us, darling. He has not separated us, nor will he ever be able to. He hurt you terribly, more than I ever realized. You have always been so strong, Clarissa.” He leaned forward and kissed my nose. “Let me be strong for you. Share your fears as well as your dreams with me. I would carry any burden you give me, so long as we are together.”

I leaned up, kissing him tenderly. “I love you, Gabriel, so much. I’ve been terrified of losing you.”

“Let me love you,” he whispered, as he nuzzled my neck and moved lower. “I’ve missed you so much, my Clarissa.”

I reached up and grasped his face between my palms. “I’ve missed you with an equal fervor.”

He took a deep breath, watching me closely. His eyes shone with a fierce love and nodded. His hands skimmed up my sides, over my breasts.

I gasped as he suckled my breast. I arched into his caress, rubbing my hands through his hair.

He moved to my other breast, while his hands stroked over my belly. “Gabriel,” I gasped.

“I want you to know how much I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too.”

He nibbled on my shoulder before kissing me deeply again. “What a pair of fools, living in the same house, but never speaking. Barely touching.” He sighed as he eased into me.

I arched up again to meet him. “Love me, Gabriel. Love me.” I gripped his back, fingers digging into his strong muscles.

“Always, my Clarissa, always,” he vowed, and we were beyond words.

***

I LAY ON MY SIDE with Gabriel’s arm across my belly, holding me close. He breathed deeply in my ear, but it didn’t sound like he was asleep. “Gabriel?” I whispered.

“Yes, darling?” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“What if we never have a child?” I tensed involuntarily at the question.

His hand tightened around my belly, and his face nuzzled the back of my neck. “You must know, Clarissa, my love for you is boundless. Nothing could make me love you more. If we have a child, I will cherish her. For I would love to have a daughter with your mixture of strength and beauty. If we are destined to be without children, we will be the best aunt and uncle around.”

“Every time I sense someone looking at my belly to see if I’m increasing or when I hear about others’ good news, I feel …”

“What, my darling?”

“Inadequate,” I whispered.

He rolled me to my back so he could see my expression, his hands cradling my face, preventing me from looking away. “You are not, and never have been, inadequate.” A wondrous smile spread as he traced my cheeks with his thumbs. “You’ve believed for too long you could never be loved for who you are. All I want is you, Clarissa. You. Anything else is—”

I didn’t let him finish as I leaned up to kiss him, an overwhelming happiness spreading though me.

CHAPTER 14

Boston, August 1902

FLORENCE ENTERED THE Arlington Street gate to the Public Gardens, glancing around for Sophronia. The sounds of passing trolleys and carriages faded as Florence moved farther into the verdant sanctuary in the heart of the city. She strolled at a leisurely pace along tree-shaded paths, past the small lake at the center of the gardens. The swan boats, only half full on this bright, humid afternoon, slowly floated around the lake. As she approached the side of the gardens toward Beacon Street, she saw Sophronia.

“High time you arrived,” Sophronia said from a park bench in the shade of a tree. “I’d not thought you would be so tardy.” She sat with her back ramrod straight, her hands holding a walking stick. Her cream-colored hat, tilted to one side, failed to hide her inquisitive aquamarine eyes, and her matching suit remained starched and wrinkle free, even in the oppressive heat and humidity.

“I’m sorry, Sophie,” Florence said as she settled next to her. “I wasn’t feeling my best this morning, and it delayed me.”

“I hope it is not some sort of illness?” Sophronia frowned as she looked Florence up and down.

“No illness. Just the nine-months’ sort,” Florence whispered with a blush.

Sophronia cackled her delight. “Wonderful, girl. Wonderful! And what does your young man have to say for himself?”

“He’s overjoyed but terrified something will happen to me. We’ve known for some time, but I haven’t wanted to tell anyone. I wanted to wait until I felt the baby move.”

“Well, your husband’s is a natural reaction. When he holds the baby in his arms and sees you are well, he’ll be fine.” Sophronia patted her hand a few times. “Have you written Clarissa?”

“No.”

“Why ever not? I should think she’d be elated.” Sophronia nodded to a passing acquaintance but did not welcome her to join in their conversation.

“I know. And I will write her.”

“Well, I’ll keep your secret, although I know it will make my girl Clarissa happy. I know she frets that she hasn’t yet found herself in a family way. But, all in good time,” Sophronia said. “And you might not be able to stop your husband from writing his brother.”

“I know. I fear he wrote him when we first suspected,” Florence said with a blush. After a moment’s hesitation she asked, “How is Savannah? I was worried when I received your note.”

“Mourning,” Sophronia said bluntly. “If I ever see that man again, I fear what I will do.” She turned fiery blue eyes on Florence. “He attempted to shatter her spirit, and, for that, I will never forgive him.” Sophie sighed. “I didn’t want to meet at the house because Savannah insists she’s not ready for visitors, and yet, had you called, she would have made an attempt. After so many months where her wishes and desires were ignored, I’m trying to demonstrate that what she wants will be respected.”

Florence squinted her eyes as she looked at Sophronia. “But you don’t agree.”

“No. She’s spent enough time crying in her room, staring out the back window. She’s been in my home, refusing to leave, for over a month. We’re nearing mid-August. She needs to reenter the world.”

“She needs to find a new purpose, Sophie.”

“Well, a few weeks of crying are not going to heal the wounds she has suffered. You and I know that. And she is quite reticent at becoming part of the movement. But I’m sure we can find something for her.”

“Maybe it is for her to discover,” Florence murmured. “I believe she will have no interest in any movement until she has found her child.”

“I believe you are correct. I presume you will aid her?” Sophie raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly at Florence’s nod of agreement. “Excellent. I have begun to make discreet inquiries for her but have yet to meet with success.”

“I’m sure we will discover something, Sophie.”

“For her sake, I hope so. As for the divorce, it is not proceeding as I had hoped, but I am convinced it is the correct way forward for her. I find comfort that she is safe in my home away from her horrid husband.”

“Has he called again?”

“Not since I threatened summoning the police,” Sophronia said. “Savannah remained in her room for four days after hearing his voice.”

“We’ll provide the support we can, and the McLeods are family, of a sort,” Florence said. “However, Savannah needs to determine what she desires, Sophie. She may not be ready to face the infamy of divorce.”

“Maybe so,” Sophie said with a sigh. “There are tough days ahead for Savannah, Florence. She will need her friends. I was hoping you’d write her. Encourage her to call on you. Try to convince her to come to one of the meetings. Show her that you’re her friend, as well as Clarissa’s.” Sophronia paused, gripping her walking stick for a moment before releasing it along with her agitation.

“I’ll write her tonight,” Florence said with a sad smile. “I shudder to think what more she suffered at his hands. The little I witnessed was horrible enough.”

***

“SAVANNAH, ARE YOU AMENABLE to visitors for tea? I’m afraid a few of my friends insist on calling,” Sophronia asked as she sat at her desk in her private sitting room. The lower half of the walls were covered in white wainscoting, with dusty-rose-colored wallpaper covering the top half of the walls. Like her more formal sitting room, there were few pieces of art on the wall. In this room, the focal piece was a scene of a mountain glen after a heavy snow. Sophronia’s desk sat in front of the rear window, and comfortable chairs were scattered throughout the room. Savannah sat in the rocking chair.

“Yes, of course. I would hate for you to curtail your social calls due to my presence.” The tightening of her grip on the rocking chair arm betrayed her agitation.

“Most of my set are away for the summer. Doing mostly useless activities in Newport and the like. However, a few are in town, and I look forward to a lively discussion about the cause and hearing about their efforts to save birds.”

“Birds?”

“There are many good causes to dedicate your energies to. You’re too young to simply lay about with no purpose to your life.”

Savannah nodded and intrepidly avoided committing to any of Sophronia’s causes. “Would you prefer if I were absent? I would hate to cause you any more scandal.”

“Ah, Savannah, when are you going to learn that a little scandal is good for the soul? If you live your life too much by society’s dictates, you will have nothing interesting to relive when you age.” Sophronia raised one eyebrow as she spoke. “Besides, I think a few of them are quite interested in making your acquaintance.”

“I have no desire to be seen as a circus act,” Savannah said.

Sophronia cackled and returned her attention to her correspondence.

Savannah rose and wandered to the small room she had chosen on the third floor. Sophronia had protested heartily, insisting she occupy a grander room, but Savannah enjoyed its soothing mint-green silk wallpaper, the understated elegance in the mahogany four-poster bed, and the simply carved walnut armoire. Her favorite aspect of the room was the chaise longue set next to the window. It overlooked the green area of Sophronia’s neighbors. Savannah enjoyed passing the afternoon, watching the light move across the walls, listening to the birds and trying to heal.

A few hours later, Mary knocked gently on her door, and Savannah rose from the chaise. “I’m coming, Mary.” Savannah wore a simple light-blue cotton muslin dress, perfect for the hot, humid day. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to drink tea on such a warm day.”

She exchanged an amused glance with Mary as she left her room. Savannah walked slowly toward the front parlor, uncertain if she should enter after hearing the raised voices.

“When I think of the damage you have already wrought on this family due to your interference with Clarissa …” A long pause followed. “And now you seem determined to destroy Savannah’s future. Do you have no decency, Mrs. Chickering?”

“Apparently not, at least where you’re concerned,” Sophronia replied, and Savannah could hear a hint of amusement in the outspoken woman’s voice. “As for your estimation of what is decent, I know we will always have differing definitions.”

“How dare you sit there like the Cheshire cat, smug and all knowing, when you have ruined Savannah’s marriage!”

Savannah leaned forward to see Mrs. Sullivan, Clarissa’s stepmother, snapping at Sophronia. Savannah blanched to see her mother sitting next to Mrs. Sullivan, glaring at Sophronia. Savannah backed away, remaining hidden in the hallway, not wishing to be seen but wanting to overhear the conversation.

“I’m surprised you would know of such a creature, Mrs. Sullivan. I had thought your intellectual leanings were more in the domestic vein.”