Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 (20 page)

“You know I never remember what happens when I’m sick with malaria.” Jeremy stretched and yawned. “God, I need a bath, but I think I’d fall flat on my face if I stood up.”

“Savannah was here and helped care for you. Allowed Flo to rest,” Richard said.

“Savannah? My … our friend?” he asked.

“Yes, showed up day before yesterday. I think she was here to talk with me about the baby, but I didn’t really listen to her. Just thrust her in here and into the role of caring for you. I was so tired by that point, and she didn’t seem to mind.”

“How can I not remember she was here?” Jeremy asked.

“You just said you never remember,” Richard said.

“I know, but …”

“But you think you should have remembered that the woman you’re attracted to, for lack of a better word, was here tending you at your worst?” Florence asked. “According to Richard, you even missed a rather entertaining story about her youth.”

“Yes, something to do with a cat and bells,” Richard said with a laugh. “You should ask her about it some time. You were the calmest when she spoke to you.”

“I hate that she saw me like that,” Jeremy whispered.

“Well, it’s part of who you are. Not worth trying to hide it,” Florence said. “At some point you’d have to tell her.” Florence shrugged.

“We’re friends, Flo,” Jeremy said.

“And I’m a Chinese monk,” she said with a wry smile. “Would you like some soup? Mint’s in season, and I remember you liking the cold mint soup last time after you were ill.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Jeremy said as he rolled onto his back.

“I’ll leave Richard here to help wash you and to change the sheets.”

Richard reached for the pitcher of water, pouring some of it into a bowl. He wrung out a cloth and handed it to Jeremy. “Do you feel up to bathing yourself, or do you need my help?”

“I’ll do it,” he said, grabbing the cloth. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, gripping the mattress edge with his free hand.

“I’ll be back in a minute with the sheets,” Richard said.

Jeremy began to wash, pausing every few moments to rest. Richard returned with a stack of clean towels, clean nightclothes for Jeremy, as well as fresh sheets. After Jeremy washed and put on fresh clothes, he sat on a chair huddled under a blanket while Richard stripped the bed, flipped the mattress and then remade it.

“I can’t believe Flo is having you do this,” Jeremy said. He canted to one side from his exhaustion, finally scooting the chair next to the wall so he could lean against it.

“She said that I had learned many important skills while I lived with Gabe, and there was no reason I couldn’t continue to use them when we married. Thankfully she hasn’t resorted to having me cook dinner.”

“Thank God,” Jeremy said with a snort of laughter. “You always were the worst of the three of us. When I knew it was your night to cook, I made sure I ate before coming home.”

Richard pelted him with the dirty pillowcase. “You did not!” At Jeremy’s laughter and nod, Richard shook his head.

“You don’t mind one second, do you, Rich?”

Richard shared a small smile with Jeremy. “Not at all. I have Florence in my life, and she’s content. If I need to change some beds or sweep a floor, I’m happy to do what I need. I got her back, Jer, and I’ll do what I can to ensure she’s happy.”

Jeremy closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the wall. “Of course she’s satisfied. She’s a McLeod.”

“Doesn’t mean much when you’re all alone,” Richard said.

“Did I do anything to embarrass myself in front of Savannah, Rich?”

“Not that I know of. You were barely awake when she was here. She told you stories, read you part of that Oscar Wilde play you were reading. Flo heard her giggling a time or two over that one.”

Richard tugged on Jeremy’s arm, pulling him to his feet and then spinning him to the freshly made bed. “Ah, heaven,” Jeremy said with a sigh. “Thanks, Rich.”

“Before you fall asleep, take your medicine, Jer. I have no desire to force it down your throat again.”

Jeremy opened his eyes and furrowed his brow in question, as he watched Richard approach him with a spoon and a bottle of medicine.

“You were a beast, thrashing and fighting as I tried to get this down you. More ended on your chest and neck than in you. I even had to sit on you once, although it only made you fight harder.”

Jeremy flushed and looked away. “Sorry, Rich. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“I know. I didn’t fully understand what I was attempting or what you’d been through until now. Forgive me for not comprehending what you’d experienced.”

Jeremy nodded, taking the spoon and shuddering as he swallowed the metallic-flavored medicine. “There’s no way you could. You weren’t there.”

Richard raised his eyebrows and returned the medicine to the bureau.

“Thanks, Rich,” Jeremy murmured as his eyes closed, and he fell asleep.

CHAPTER 18

SAVANNAH DESCENDED THE STREETCAR at Haymarket and walked toward Salem Street, long shadows falling in the late afternoon. The streets bustled with passing carriages and carts, and the sidewalks were crowded with women, many of whom carried bulging baskets after a day of shopping. Men were sweeping Salem Street, cleaning away the remains of the day’s market.

As she approached the small alleyway that led to the McLeods’ house, she stopped short. “Jonas,” Savannah breathed.

“Hello, darling wife,” Jonas said. He wielded a walking stick in his left hand, pushing away those next to him on the sidewalk. His brown eyes shielded by his hat did not prevent her from seeing a gleam of triumph within.

“I had not thought to find you in this area.”

“Are you still searching for your long-dead daughter?” he sneered as he watched her. “I would have thought you’d have realized she’d died and given up the search. Although you always were without sense.”

“What are you doing here, Jonas?”

“Have I no right to visit this part of town?” He glanced around at the other streetgoers dressed in work-roughened clothes. From his stylish hat and suit to his highly polished shoes, he stood out like an oasis of refinement, with those passing by careful not to jostle or mar his fine clothes.

“You’ve never expressed a desire before.” Savannah stiffened as he leaned toward her. “I had thought you’d never leave the exalted environs of the Back Bay and commercial districts of Boston.”

“This is why women will never be in business. They incapable of understanding the full extent that a man must go to in order to succeed. Even the most undesirable must be faced, Savannah, my love.”

She paled at his endearment. “I wish you success with your business. I must go.”

Jonas moved toward her, backing her up until she was pressed against a wall. “Do you think I don’t know you visit those wretched McLeods? I find it nearly unforgiveable you have formed such a friendship as the one with Clarissa’s schoolteacher friend. I will learn everything there is to know about you, wife. You are mine, and never forget it.”

“I am no one’s,” Savannah declared. She stood on her toes in an attempt to escape touching Jonas in any way.

“No, you are mine until I deem you no longer desirable.” He laughed mockingly. “You never were desirable. But you are mine until you are no longer worth my attention.”

He leaned away, looking to his right and left, a charming smile aimed at the worried glances of those passing by. “I expect you at the house this evening, Mrs. Montgomery. You’ve been away for nearly four months, and I want you home. I’d hate for you to need too many lessons.”

Savannah shivered, unable to hide her revulsion and fear at his words.

He nodded at her and spun, walking away.

Savannah’s body shook, but she fisted her hands and forced herself to remain standing and not crumple to the ground. She tried to smile at those walking past her, but they were seen as though through a rain-drenched windowpane. Blinking her eyes only made the tears fall, and she paused to wipe them away before continuing her walk to the McLeods’ home.

Savannah turned down the mouth of their alley, no men loitering at this hour. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of rotting vegetables and trash. She glanced toward the sky, wondering if the darkening clouds would lead to any relief of the overwhelming stench. On their doorstep, she took a deep breath and rapped on the door.

“Savannah,” Florence said. “It’s wonderful to see you. Our invalid is on the mend.” Florence smiled, only to frown after a moment, perplexed as Savannah remained silent. “Please, come in. I’ll make us some tea.”

Savannah followed her, not sparing a glance for Jeremy’s room. She slumped onto the couch, barely missing the cat. At its yowl in protest, she emerged from her dazed stupor. Florence sat next to her, the tea forgotten.

“Savannah? What happened?”

“I met Jonas a few blocks from here.” Savannah gripped her skirts in an attempt to still her hands from shaking.

“Did he hurt you?” Florence placed one of her hands over Savannah’s, her gentle touch imparting solidarity and comfort.

“No. But just seeing him terrifies me.” She exhaled a stuttering breath. “He demanded I return to his house tonight.”

Florence stilled, her jaw clenching for a moment before she relaxed into the couch. “Will you?”

“Of course not. I can imagine how irate he’ll be, and it will be that much worse the next time I see him. I hate that merely seeing him reminds me of the power he once had over me. That he is able to instill fear in me with such ease.”

“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d have any less. You’ve never confronted him over his callous disregard and mistreatment of you.”

“Only a suffragist would envision a woman could confront a grown man.”

“It’s how it should be. How it will be one day. Women will have rights, independent of those of their husbands, and those rights will be defended by the courts and law.” Florence’s passion-filled, purposeful gaze challenged Savannah. “Besides, you’ve barely been away from him. You need time to recover from what he did to you.”

“Thank you, Florence.” Savannah gripped her hands. “How is Jeremy?”

“Improved, although still weak. Most likely irritated you haven’t gone in to visit him.”

“His fever’s broken then?”

“Yes. The doctor visited again today and thinks the higher dose of quinine will prevent any further relapses.”

“I hope he’s correct.” She bit her lip as she stared toward the far wall. She squinted as she turned to face Florence. “If the doctor came again, the cost ate into your meager savings even more, didn’t it Florence?”

Florence burst out into joyful laughter and then continued to smile broadly. She brushed aside a stray black curl and pushed her glasses more firmly onto the bridge of her nose. “No, it didn’t. Richard had written his uncle, telling him our news, and Uncle Aidan sent us money for a baby fund. He was quite generous.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Savannah gripped Florence’s hands. “I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Nor I. Richard tried to hide his concern, but he wasn’t successful. I am so thankful for his generous uncle. I wish he would return to Boston. Aidan would have his reunion with Jeremy and see Richard again. He’s never visited since we married, and I’ve yet to meet him.”

“Did he mention visiting in his note?”

“He said something about the fall. He’s quite busy with work, and he now has a home in Missoula. I try not to be envious of Gabriel, having frequent contact with Aidan. After all, Richard has Jeremy. But I know Richard dearly misses the support and guidance from someone who knew his father.”

“I wish Clarissa and Gabriel would come home,” Savannah whispered.

“I fear that’s a dream that will never come to fruition. I doubt you’ll ever see Clarissa in Boston again.”

“I’m afraid you are correct.” Savannah sighed before straightening her shoulders. “I should visit with Jeremy a few moments before returning to Sophie’s.”

Florence nodded and Savannah rose. She walked down the hallway and poked her head around the door frame. She smiled as she saw Jeremy lying on his back with his hands crossed over his belly, his head turned toward the door. His green eyes opened, and he grinned upon seeing her.

“I hoped you’d visit me. I could no longer hear your voices, and I feared you would leave without coming to speak with me first,” he said.

Savannah moved into the room, sitting on the chair facing him, rather than her customary chair closer to him. She catalogued his features. He had a four-day growth of stubble that enhanced rather than detracted from his looks. The black beard, along with his ebony hair, made his green eyes appear an even deeper, darker hue. His cheeks were more concave, and the rigid control that he exuded was absent.

“You’re still recovering,” Savannah whispered as she reached out to straighten his sheets and blankets. She blushed, stilling her motion just as she was about to lean over him. “Forgive me. I know you have the strength to do this now.”

“I’ll never be saddened if a beautiful woman wants to care for me,” Jeremy said with husky humor in his voice.