Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 (17 page)

“None, besides your maid, are willing to corroborate your claims.”

“Even if that means lying in court?” Savannah asked, anger lacing her voice. “And what my maid, Mary, Florence or Mr. McLeod saw? Does none of that matter?”

“There is the fear that their testimony would be construed as biased due to their association with you. They need to have irrefutable testimony as to his cruelty to have a successful case.” Sophronia watched Savannah with an intense stare. “As we can find no evidence of your daughter’s placement in an orphanage, we cannot use that as evidence of his cruelty toward you. The courts would believe him, especially as he has a doctor to provide testimony to his claim.”

“If the court would believe Mary, believe me, they’d know what kind of man he is. Stealing away my child,” Savannah rasped. “Why would they believe him over me? Over what I’ve suffered?”

“Without irrefutable proof of her birth and either time in an orphanage or adoption, the court will not consider it evidence of cruelty against him.” Sophronia sighed. “You know that divorces are not frequently granted in Massachusetts, and you must be willing to provide all the evidence necessary for the case.”

“I can’t return to him. I can’t …” Sobs tore from Savannah’s chest, and she bowed over, curling herself into a ball in her chair. “I can’t detail everything I suffered at his hands. I refuse to be an object of gossip and ridicule for the papers.”

“No, you will never return to him. I have summoned your aunt Betsy, and we will help you determine what is to be done.”

“Aunt Betsy?”

“Yes, the only member of your family, besides Clarissa—but she is too far away to render any help—who is capable of showing any sense.” Sophronia
harrumphed
again. “You’ll remain safe and free of him. I promise you.”

“Thank you, Sophie.”

“Now, as for the other matter at hand, I know you have enlisted the aid of your friends, the McLeods, in your search for your daughter.” At Savannah’s nod, Sophie continued. “I, too, have turned to those I can trust in an attempt to discover what occurred last November.”

Savannah gripped her hands together on her lap. “What have you discovered?”

“I spoke with a physician who was a good friend to my husband. He aided me a little over a year ago when I was in need of guidance for Clarissa. He was generous with his time again and agreed to speak to his colleagues. Unfortunately he hasn’t heard any rumors of babies whisked away in the middle of the night.”

All hope leeched from Savannah, and she shrunk into her chair. “Thank you, Sophie, for doing what you could.”

“If you think the extent of my influence ends with speaking to a physician, you don’t know me, Savannah.” She looked at her with amusement. “I’ve numerous friends and acquaintances who are on the boards of orphanages throughout the area, and I’ve written them with the hopes they’ll be able to discover if your daughter was placed in an outlying orphanage.”

“Have you heard from any of them?”

“I’m afraid many are away for the summer. However, those who have written have made inquiries on my behalf but with no success,” Sophie said.

“I fear I must resign myself to the truth that my daughter is lost to me.”

“Never give up hope, Savannah. It is something not even that wretched husband of yours can ever take away from you.”

CHAPTER 16

“WHAT’S THE MATTER, Mrs. Montgomery?” Jeremy asked as he set aside a piece of sandpaper and faced her. He turned toward the doorway to see her hovering a few steps inside the room, swaying as though with indecision if she should stay or leave. The stove to the side of the room pumped out anemic warmth on this chilly mid-September day.

“There are no more orphanages to visit. I just received a letter today from the last possible one in Connecticut. I … My baby must have died,” Savannah whispered.

“I thought you’d begun to believe that a few weeks ago. Florence mentioned it to me after you had tea with her.” He inched toward her as any sudden movement seemed to startle her.

“There’s a difference between saying the words and truly understanding there is no hope, Mr. McLeod,” Savannah rasped.

“Why do you come to visit me?” he asked as he continued his slow progression toward her.

“Because I like to think we’re friends.”

“We are,” he said in a soft voice. “Why else?”

“Because … because I don’t know,” she whispered as she turned to leave.

He reached out and grasped her upper arm. “Stay. Speak to me. As your friend. As someone who wants you to stop hiding behind a brittle smile. Tell me what you’re really feeling. Please?” He released her arm and squeezed her shoulders with his hands in encouragement.

“Why would you want to hear what I’m thinking? What I’m feeling?”

“Because I know what it is to live in darkness. Just like you, Savannah,” he soothed.

“I don’t know what happiness is,” she blurted out. “I sometimes wonder if I’ve ever been happy. The memories from before Jonas seem to have happened to another woman. How could that have been me?”

Jeremy watched her, his silent compassion encouraging her to speak.

“I continue this so-called life because it is expected of me. I converse. I eat. I go on walks. But none of it really matters. All I will ever know is darkness.” She bit her lip as she swallowed a sob. “I know I am a coward because …”

After a few moments of silence where Savannah closed her eyes and leaned away from him, Jeremy asked, “Because?”

“Because I wish it would all end. I’d be reunited with my baby, and I’d finally have some peace. But I’m too much of a coward to do anything.”

Jeremy gripped her arms, at the last moment remembering not to hold her too tightly. “Look at me, Savannah.” He reached up, tracing her cheek and then one eyebrow until finally she opened her eyes. Tears leaked from her sky-blue eyes. “There’s no cowardice in not wanting to be enveloped in constant darkness. In wishing you could see light where otherwise all you see is pain infused with hopelessness. You are braver than I can say for continuing your struggle to find a good life. To live a life free of a man such as Jonas. You’re not a coward, Savannah.”

“Stop it. Stop it,” she demanded. She took deep breaths as she attempted to swallow her sobs. However, they poured from her, and she was unable to tamp them down.

“Cry, Savannah. Cry.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’ll hold you. Shh …” He rocked her to and fro as she began to keen.

“No, no, no!” she wailed. “I don’t want to feel.” She punched at his back a few times before gripping him tightly.

“Ah, but you do. Too much. And I hope you never stop.” He kissed her head as he cradled her quaking body. “Cry, sweet Savannah. Let it out.” For long moments he held her as she sobbed, his silence a shared acceptance of her sorrow.

Even when Savannah settled, Jeremy continued to hold her. “You will always miss your baby, Savannah. But you need to live. Find joy in the everyday.”

She pushed away from him, allowing him to see her red-rimmed eyes and runny nose. “How can I find joy, Jeremy? My baby is gone. Even if she didn’t die, I’ll never find her. I’ll forever be separated from her. How can I be happy again?” Her breath stuttered as she fought another sob.

He wiped her cheeks with his fingers before cradling her head, while his thumbs continued to chase stray tears. “I don’t know how you’ll find happiness again, but you will. One day you’ll have a moment of joy. And then another. Until you know more joy than despair. You must believe those days are coming, Savannah.”

“I can’t see past the pain.”

“I know, and you’ll carry this pain with you always. Some scars you see. Others are written on our hearts. And you never know when those will bleed. But hopefully this scar will bleed less frequently.”

She leaned forward, and Jeremy held her, cooing soft words in her ear.

***

“SAVANNAH, IT APPEARS you have a visitor,” Sophronia said.

Savannah glanced toward the doorway with a frown, then found Lucas hovering behind the butler.

He beamed as he sidestepped the butler, Poole, earning a loud grunt of disapproval from him and a smirk from Sophronia. “Mrs. Chickering, I presume? Wonderful to finally make your acquaintance. Sav, Aunt Betsy,” Lucas said as he approached them to embrace them both. He wore a tailored gray linen suit with no tie.

“Lucas, it’s wonderful to see you,” Savannah said with a broad smile.

He released Savannah and moved toward Aunt Betsy, winking at her. “When my favorite aunt is in town, I need to see her.”

“I’m your only aunt, you rascal,” Aunt Betsy said with a smile. She fanned herself, shifting the long skirts of her sea-blue cotton dress.

Lucas wandered toward the polished piano sitting to one side of the room. He traced the rosewood inlay, his fingers moving as though playing the keys.

“I’ve heard you’re something of a decent player,” Sophronia said. “My daughter had the distinction of abusing that poor instrument. Thankfully she decided to leave it behind when she married. Her daughters have decided to deafen me with the violin rather than the piano.”

“Play for us, Lucas,” Aunt Betsy urged.

“What would you like to hear?”

“Something soothing. I’ve had a few rough days, and, although I’ve come to enjoy the newer songs you’re playing, I wouldn’t mind something older. More familiar.” Savannah smiled encouragingly, sharing a long look with Lucas. “I’ve missed your music.”

“Hmm …” Lucas said as he sat at the piano, raising the key cover. He played a few keys, warming up his fingers. “You keep this tuned and in perfect condition for an instrument that is never played, ma’am.” He looked toward Sophronia with a raised eyebrow.

“If one is to have the trappings of wealth, one might as well maintain that which gives us our perceived sophistication,” Sophie said with a grin. “Play for us, young man. Show me this talent of yours.” She settled back in her chair with her heels crossed at her ankles.

“I remember you liked this song, Sav,” Lucas murmured as he played a gentle piece by Chopin.

Savannah closed her eyes, the lyrical notes as though a lullaby, reminding her of the days before she married Jonas. By the time Lucas had finished, she swiped at a few of the tears trickling down her cheeks.

Lucas looked toward her with a grin that quickly faded as he noted her tears. He rose from the piano bench and strode toward her, kneeling in front of her. “Sav, I’m sorry. I remember it was your favorite piece years ago. When it was our secret that I played the piano.”

“That’s why I was crying, Lucas. It reminded me of the girl I once was. Of how innocent I used to be. It made me nostalgic.”

Lucas’s jaw tightened at the allusion to her life with Jonas. “Have you had any contact with Jonas?”

“No, nothing.” Savannah sniffled. “And I know that should soothe me. But it doesn’t. It only makes me more afraid of what’s to come.”

“Whatever comes, you are not alone this time, dearest. You have all of us and the McLeods,” Sophie said.

Lucas raised one eyebrow as he moved to sit in a chair next to Savannah. “The McLeods? Clarissa’s too far away to be of any practical assistance.”

“I’ve befriended Florence and Gabriel’s brothers,” Savannah said.

“I imagine his brothers are as capable as Gabriel,” Aunt Betsy said.

“Cryptic as always, Aunt Betsy,” Lucas said.

“If I remember the story correctly, it was Florence and the brother Jeremy who … rescued you, for lack of a better word, from your husband’s house,” Aunt Betsy said.

“It was. And saved her from another horrid beating,” Sophie said.

“Another, Sav?” Lucas asked as he gripped his hands and flushed with anger.

“Please, Lucas, I’m fine. It’s nothing,” Savannah whispered as she reached out to stroke his clenched fist.

“Promise me that you won’t ever return to him. Not for any reason,” he said, urgency lacing his tone.

“I promise.” Savannah shuddered at the thought.

“As for you, young man,” Sophronia said, “what are you doing, wasting your life selling linen when you should be performing?”

“One such as I does not perform, Mrs. Chickering. Only those of the lower classes would do such a thing,” Lucas said.

“Balderdash,” Sophronia said with a
harrumph
for emphasis. “Whoever filled your head with such nonsense, and I have to assume it’s either your misguided mother or insipid grandparents, should know that such talent as yours should not be squandered.”

Lucas flushed, this time with pleasure. “I thank you, Mrs. Chickering. I’m content with the life I lead.”

“Content,” she hissed. “
Content
is for those who are in their dotage reliving their lives, thankful they have no regrets. Careful, my boy, for you will not be one of those. You will become a sad, bitter old man for all that you did not do.”

“Sophie!” Savannah gasped.

“Someone needs to speak sense, and it’s clearly not going to be a member of your family, Savannah.” She gave a pointed look at both her and Aunt Betsy. “If you had, Mr. Russell would be performing with the symphony by now, rather than in my parlor on my decrepit piano to a tone-deaf woman.”