Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 (19 page)

“Jeremy, is it?” Sophie asked with a raised eyebrow. “I know he isn’t, but you’re missing my point. My hope for you is that you learn what it is
you
want from life and for your life, independent of the wishes and desires of a man or other members of your family. As long as you continue to see him, you will not have that opportunity. This is your chance for self-discovery, Savannah.”

“Is that fair to him?” Betsy asked. “It seems Savannah’s a regular visitor. If she disappears, he’ll worry.”

“Savannah’s spent her life considering the concerns of those around her,” Sophronia said. “Now is her time.”

“What do you think, Savannah?” Aunt Betsy asked.

“I will consider what you both say,” Savannah said. “If you’ll excuse me, I wish for time alone.”

She rose, ascending the stairs and walking down the hallway to her room at the rear of the house. She barely noted the paintings on the wall or the small tables with vases overflowing with fragrant flowers.

She collapsed onto the chaise longue, her mind filled with Jeremy. His voice. His quiet approval of her shining forth from his eyes. His touch. His passionate kisses. Her fingers stole to her lips and traced them, and she couldn’t prevent a smile from bursting forth. She swallowed a giggle, curling onto her side.

She longed for Clarissa, for the days when they were each other’s confidantes. How she needed to speak with her, gain her advice. Was it normal to feel a mixed-up jumble of emotions? Was it normal to dream of kissing Jeremy? Of craving his gentle touch? Of wanting even more with him?

In an instant she blinked away tears, realizing she could have lived her entire life without knowing any of the passion and pleasure from today’s encounter with Jeremy. Maybe Sophie was right that she needed time away. But how was she to stay away from a man who finally made her feel like a desirable woman?

***

A WEEK AFTER SAVANNAH’S ENCOUNTER with Jeremy in his workshop, Savannah continued to battle her own vivid imagination. In an attempt to heed Sophronia’s advice, she decided to visit Florence rather than Jeremy on a bright late-September day.

“Hello, Savannah,” Florence said.

“Is this an inopportune time to visit?” Savannah asked, watching as Florence swiped at the sweat on her brow.

“No. Don’t leave!” Florence grasped Savannah’s arm and pulled her inside. “I could use the help.” She moved toward a small room off the dark hallway. “I know this is improper, but I’m so tired I can’t seem to mind.”

Florence pushed open the bedroom door. Savannah jerked to a stop to find Jeremy on a bed, across the room, the sheets tangled around his waist.

“You’re right, this is highly improper,” Savannah stammered. She looked toward a wall, trying to focus on anything but Jeremy’s prostrate form.

“You’ve been married. Nothing should come as a surprise to you,” Florence said with a wicked smile. “However, I’m not asking you to do anything that will mortify you. Just help me care for him. Wipe his brow, talk to him when he starts thrashing about.”

Florence moved toward Jeremy and stroked the hair off his forehead. “He’s calmed by someone talking to him.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Savannah asked as she inched into the room.

“A malarial attack. I hadn’t realized he’d suffer them, even though he was no longer in the Philippines, but the doctor told us that he must not have been completely treated and is having another attack.”

“The doctor was here?” Savannah asked. “Florence, I don’t mean to offend …”

“Although you probably will,” Florence said with a wry twist of her lips.

“But could you afford his care?” Savannah asked with a gentle pat to Florence’s shoulder.

“Barely. We’re trying to put as much aside for the coming baby.” Florence paused, absently patting her belly. At Savannah’s nod of understanding, she said, “And a visit from the doctor ate into our meager resources.”

“Would you let me help?” Savannah asked.

“Of course not.” Florence’s weak smile tampered the sting of refusal. “Whatever else we might be, we McLeods are mighty stubborn and self-sufficient.”

“You’re very proud of being a McLeod,” Savannah said. She sat on the chair next to Florence, her worried gaze darting over Jeremy’s still form.

“I finally belong, Savannah. I’m wanted. You can’t know what that means.” Florence met Savannah’s gaze. “I’ve been up the past two nights tending to Jeremy. Can you watch him for a while so I can sleep?”

“Of course,” Savannah whispered.

“Don’t worry. Just wipe his brow with this.” She held up a dry cloth. “Stroke his brow when he starts to sweat again. If he becomes agitated, talk to him about anything, and he’ll settle. He’s not due for another dose of medicine until Richard returns home, so you won’t have to deal with that onerous duty.”

“Onerous?”

“You’ve never seen a man fight you so hard when you want to put a spoon in his mouth,” Florence said with a shake of her head. “I’m not saying I don’t understand, but it makes the caring of him more difficult.”

“I’m sorry not to spend time with you, Florence. I wanted to talk with you about your wonderful news.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that. The best thing you could do for me is let me sleep.” She squeezed Savannah’s shoulder and rose. A few moments later Savannah heard a door creak shut down the hall.

Savannah glanced around the sparsely furnished room. Jeremy’s single bed sat across from the doorway. A battered maple table next to the bed had a lamp with a chipped shade; a stack of books were beside the lamp. Chairs she recognized from the dining room had been placed next to his bed due to his illness. At the foot of the bed, a tall chest of drawers stood, with a few bottles on top. A glass and ewer sat on top of the bureau positioned to the right of the door, with a mirror above the pitcher.

She now sat with a chair between her and Jeremy, and she decided to move to sit next to him. She picked up two of the books. “
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
.” She shook her head. “No thank you.
An Ideal Husband
.” She smiled. “Seems a bit risqué to read Oscar Wilde, but why not?”

Savannah set the Thomas Hardy down and flipped open Wilde’s book. She squirmed around in the hard wooden chair, attempting to find a comfortable position. After a moment of reading to herself, she glanced toward Jeremy. “I feel ridiculous reading aloud to myself, Jeremy. But I will, for your sake.”

She used the cloth to mop at the small amount of sweat on his face, brow and neck before settling back to read. She read, giggling at times. To entertain herself, she tried to make up different voices for each character but then forgot which voice she’d given to which character.

“I had not thought to hear your voice, ma’am.”

Savannah looked up from the book, gasping and dropping it. “Jeremy! You’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been run through the ringer,” he rasped. “Is there any water?”

Savannah rose to the bureau and poured a small amount of water from the ewer into a glass. “Here, sit up,” Savannah said. She reached over to help him and found herself perched against the edge of his bed, one arm around his shoulder as she used her upper body to propel him into a sitting position. “Up you go,” she urged.

“I hate being so weak,” he said through chattering teeth. After slurping a little water, he collapsed again on his side, shaking uncontrollably. “Are there any blankets? I’m so cold.”

“I thought you’d have a fever,” Savannah said, as she reached out to touch his forehead, finding it burning to the touch.

“I do, but I wax and wane between very hot and very cold. Right now, I’m cold.” He burrowed into the blanket Savannah placed over him, grasping her hand. “Please stay,” he said.

“I will,” she said as she squeezed his fingers. “Do you want me to keep reading to you?”

“I don’t care.” He closed his eyes. “Just keep talking to me. I love your voice,” he whispered as his body shook uncontrollably.

Savannah reached a hand out and stroked his shoulder, tucking the blankets around him. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my life before I married Jonas. About the girl I was before my grandparents took a great notice in me. Clarissa and I were always in trouble. Lucas and Colin too, although they always made it seem like Clarissa and I were the ones who started everything. Patrick, Clarissa’s eldest brother, disapproved of everything and never took part in any of our antics.”

Savannah chuckled before sighing. “One time I remember our old maid, Bridget, took in a stray cat. He was a feisty, mean thing, had a scar down the left side of his face from his eye to his cheek. It looked like it should be a friendly tabby, but it was vicious. The only person it had a soft spot for was the cook, because she fed him bowls of milk. Mother would have had a fit if she’d known how much milk went to that animal.

“One day it started yowling and hissing, cornering Clarissa and me as it swatted at us. We were freed only when Lucas took a broom to it. The four of us decided we were going to get that cat back. It had a favorite spot it liked to sun itself. Clarissa and I bought sturdy green ribbons and tied bells to the end of each. We then tied the ribbons to two long strings and gave them to Lucas and Colin.

“Clarissa and I stood in a corner of the kitchen, on the lookout for the maid and the cook. Lucas and Colin, who wore really long thick gloves borrowed from Clarissa and me”—Savannah chuckled as she acted out putting on long gloves—“crept toward the slumbering beast. They managed to attach one of the strings and tie it with a sturdy knot, although the second string brushed the cat’s face and woke it up.”

Savannah giggled as she covered her mouth with glee for a moment. “I’ve never seen two people jump so high so fast! They yowled as loud as the cat and scurried over to us. The cat rose and shook itself. As it did, the bells rang and scared it silly. It started to run, thinking it could escape the noise. However, the more it moved, the more of a racket it created. Soon it was running through the house, careening into the furniture and knocking over vases!”

Savannah brushed at her eyes as she laughed. “Oh, I’d never seen Mother so angry. Or Father try so hard not to join in the hilarity. I can still see that cat scurrying around a corner, trying to escape the noise.”

She sighed again, reaching out a hand to wipe at Jeremy’s forehead. “The cat received an extra portion of milk that night, so I shouldn’t feel too sorry for it.”

After a few moments of silence, Savannah felt Jeremy’s forehead. “Oh, no. You’re even hotter than before.” She rose, finding another clean cloth on the bureau. As she turned toward the bed, she paused at the sight of Richard.

“You’re the last person I would have expected to find in my brother’s sickroom,” Richard said as he entered. “That was a fine story, Mrs. Montgomery. Seems you’re more like Clarissa and Colin than I’d given you credit for.”

“I’ll take that as the compliment it was intended to be,” Savannah said, blushing. “I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome.” She glanced at Jeremy, shivering on the bed. “He will recover, won’t he?”

“He always has,” Richard said. He reached out his hand for the cloth. “Thank you for visiting today and giving Florence a chance to rest. She’s been run off her feet caring for Jeremy.” He tossed the cloth from one hand to the other, his gaze flickering between Jeremy and Savannah. “Will you come back tomorrow? It would mean a great deal to know that Florence will have more rest tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be able to work without worrying so much about her.”

“Of course,” Savannah said. “Please tell Florence and Jeremy I’ll return in the afternoon.” She smiled at Richard, brushed Jeremy’s hand and moved past Richard to slip out of the room.

***

JEREMY AWOKE FEELING a deep ache in every muscle in his body. He groaned and a rough hand touched his forehead. “Is that you, Rich?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah. About time you woke up,” Richard said with a note of worried teasing in his voice. “I’ve about worn a permanent indentation in my backside sitting in this chair for so long.”

“Sorry,” Jeremy mumbled as he rolled to his side. “God, I feel awful.” He buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

“Is it worse than usual?”

“No, I just keep trying to forget about how bad these attacks are. I’ve already got the damned memories. Why must I have the disease too?”

“As long as you’re alive and well, Jer.”

“I wouldn’t call frequent bouts of malarial ague as alive and well.”

“So he’s awake then,” Florence said as she walked into the room, holding a pitcher of water and fresh cloths. She set down everything and then reached for Richard’s hand.

“I’m sorry to have caused you so much work,” Jeremy said, as he opened his eyes and noted the dark smudges under Florence’s eyes. “Especially when you should be caring for yourself and the baby.”

“Jeremy, I’m fine. A few sleepless nights won’t harm me. Besides I had help.” Florence sat in the vacant chair next to Richard. She placed a hand on the swell of her belly, nearly six months pregnant now, and smiled as she felt the baby kick.

“Thanks, Rich. I can only imagine how hard it’s been, having me ill and working at the forge too.”

Richard grinned and shared an amused glance with Florence. “You don’t remember, do you?” he asked Jeremy.