Banished Love (39 page)

I hit a wrong note, and Colin jerked his head up, wincing.

“Behold the caterwauling Clarissa, capable of causing considerable auditory damage. Marvelous! Marvelous!” Colin called out from across the room.

“I’m not singing,” I protested.

“It sure doesn’t sound like the piano,” Colin argued. “If you must play, can you at least play something you know?”

I looked toward Patrick for help but saw his nod of agreement as he continued to read. I sighed, pulling out sheet music for “Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay.”

Colin snickered at my choice of song, and Patrick laughed, so I continued to play. I heard Colin humming the tune, envious of his musical abilities.

Colin sang,

I’m not too young, I’m not too old

Not too timid, not too bold

Just the kind you’d like to hold,

Just the kind for sport I’m told.

Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay.

Colin continued to hum, and I looked up from the music, playing the chorus, and laughed at Colin. “Colin! Those aren’t the words!”

Colin raised an eyebrow, humming “Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay” another few times, smiling and responding, “Those are the alternate words, Rissa. The ones that are popular. Not the innocent words you know,” he teased.

I continued to play, feeling happy for the first time in days. A few minutes later, Mary discreetly knocked at the parlor door.

“Excuse me, but there be a Mr. Gabriel McLeod here, an’ he’s wishin’ to speak wit’ Miss Sullivan.”

I saw Colin and Patrick exchange looks. Colin set down the paper, Patrick laid aside his novel, and both rose to meet Gabriel in the front hall. I sat, as though rooted to the spot, fingers frozen over the piano keys. Colin glanced at me with wry humor but then became serious as he left the parlor. I heard deep voices as they joined Gabriel, yet I could not understand what they were discussing.

I stood, pacing to the bow-fronted window, pushing aside the plush blue velvet curtains. I eventually sat in a Grecian rocking chair, attempting to appear calm, hoping the rocking motion would soothe my nerves.

A few moments later, the parlor door opened and Gabriel entered the room, with Colin a few steps behind. Gabriel held his hat in his hands, tracing the contours of the rim as he watched me with intense blue eyes.

“Rissa, I know you need to speak with him,” Colin said. “Patrick thinks it is foolish, but I understand that it is necessary for you. However, you can’t be alone with him. You must understand. So, I will sit in the corner reading.” Colin walked to the chair on the far side of the room.

I nodded in agreement, unable to take my eyes off Gabriel. “You look well,” I whispered. I had thought he would look tired, lost even. Some outward expression to mirror how I felt without him. Instead, he appeared full of life, full of hope.

“And you, Clarissa. You look a picture.” He smiled at me, with glowing eyes. He walked toward me, took my hand and kissed the back of it. My breath caught, and I was mesmerized.

We moved to the far corner of the parlor away from Colin, to attain a sense of privacy. We did not sit but continued to stand, watching each other with longing evident in our gazes. Gabriel continued to study me with thoughtful eyes, as though memorizing me.

He spoke in a very soft voice. “Clarissa, I come with news.”

I continued to watch him with my stomach tied in knots. I would have wrung my hands if Gabriel had not continued to hold one of them.

He cleared his throat, continuing in the same careful tone. “I have decided to leave Boston. I’m going to live out my dream and travel west.”

He watched me, studying my reaction. I felt dizzy, as though all of the air had left me. I clutched his hand to stay upright, and my vision blurred for a few moments. I then met his hopeful eyes with my anguish-filled ones, incapable of adequately expressing the devastation his words had wrought.

“Why must you leave?” I cried.

“Can’t you understand, Clarissa?” Gabriel implored, gripping me gently by both hands, gazing beseechingly into my eyes. “I need to make a fresh start for myself. I will never be free from the past here. Aunt Masterson will always try to interfere in my life. Look what she has tried to do to us. Not just to my brothers, but to you and me as well. I cannot live this way. I have a skill that I can use anywhere. I must try to see if I can build a new life.”

I had begun to sob, tears pouring down my cheeks.

“You are no better than Cameron!” I blurted out, wrenching one of my hands free, raising it to my mouth to attempt to cover my sobs. I half bent over for a moment, overcome with grief. I realized the unjustness of the words immediately after they were stated and looked up at him with huge shocked eyes. I could not remember ever feeling such agony, not even with Cameron two years ago.

He jerked away from me, as though I had slapped him, looking stricken. “Don’t you dare compare me to him,” he hissed. “Unlike him, you know what I am thinking. You know what I plan to do. You have no reason to doubt how much I care for you. We will be together again. I promise on all that I hold dear to me, we will,” he vowed, still gripping one of my hands.

“Those are empty words, said only to reassure yourself. You will forget me when you are away, having your adventure. I will be alone again.” My voice cracked on the word
alone
, and I felt panic nearly overcome me at the thought of being left behind. I wanted to crumble to the floor, but pride made me maintain a semblance of composure. I stiffened my back and attempted to halt my tears, although I knew that would be impossible.

I saw him flush red, with a strong emotion. He refrained from speaking, letting go of my hand, stepping away from me, turning away, massaging the back of his neck. I simply knew I needed to be alone. In a flash, I realized that I would soon have many moments alone. As I stood there in the parlor, not touching Gabriel, but listening to his harsh breaths, I understood that if I allowed him to leave without undoing some of the damage of my words, the harm could be permanent with a distance too great to span.

I felt twin tears continue to track down my cheeks as I reached out to lightly touch his arm. “Gabriel,” I whispered, unable to speak louder.

He pivoted to face me once more, looking up at me through his lashes. He vibrated anger, hurt pride, disappointment.

I swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the thickness in my throat. “I am so afraid of losing you. I am afraid of being alone again. I feel like all my hopes for happiness leave with you, and I don’t know how to start all over again.” I was unable to describe coherently my inexplicable despair.

He pulled me brusquely into his arms, gripping me tightly, his hands biting into my back. “You won’t lose me!” he gasped into my ear. “I love you, Clarissa.” He leaned away, gripping my face in his hands, his thumbs outlining my cheeks, brushing away my tears, looking into my eyes with a fervent intensity. “I
love
you. We will be together again. I feel it in my bones.”

I nodded mutely, still crying, leaning into him and his embrace. I needed him here but did not know how to convince him to stay with me. I took comfort in his embrace, trying to feel the same confidence he did in our future together. I shuddered and sighed, my crying slowly abating. After a few more moments, I was able to speak again.

“When do you leave?” I whispered into his chest.

He nuzzled the top of my head. He kissed my hair, and then murmured, “I think about a week from now. I delivered the bookshelves to your schoolroom yesterday and I wrote your aunt Betsy of my inability to construct her a sideboard. I need to pack up my tools, settle my affairs here. Then I will go. I must travel while it is still summer there. Hopefully to settle before winter hits.”

“Will you write me?” My voice sounded plaintive, but I could not prevent that. I was shocked at the sudden life change, and my self-control was depleted.

“Only daily.” I could feel his smile. He leaned away from me, bracketing my face with his hands again. “I will think of you every day. Dream of you. Dream of a time when we are together again. I will not forget you,” he vowed. His eyes held mine with a searing intensity, a new passion that I had not seen before. I wished we were alone so he could kiss me but heard the soft rustle of Colin’s movements and knew that wouldn’t be possible.

“I shall miss you dreadfully,” I said in a low voice. Two remaining tears escaped my eyes, coursing down my cheeks. He chased them with his thumbs, caressing my face.

“Will you write me?” he asked, pleading in his voice and expression.

“Every chance I have.” I smiled more fully at him. “I will write to you as though you are still here with me and keep you informed of my life. I hope the mail service is efficient.”

He chuckled, enfolding me in his arms again. “I have no idea, but I am sure we will find out.”

I sighed, cherishing the feeling of being in his arms, dreading the moment when he would leave me. I heard Colin gently clear his throat.

“Ahem. Sorry, Gabe,” Colin said. “You should be going.”

Gabriel eased himself away from me, carefully brushing my cheeks again with his thumbs, and then left the parlor. I sank onto the piano stool, in shock, unable to comprehend all that had transpired.

Colin saw Gabriel out and then returned to the parlor.

“What’s the story, Rissa?” He took one of my hands, kneeling down before me to meet my eyes. “I can tell you are distressed but couldn’t hear enough of what was said to make out the reason.”

I looked at him with bruised, weary eyes, before whispering, “She won.”

“What?”

“Mrs. Smythe,” I replied. I took a shuddering breath as a few more tears escaped my eyes. I raised my hand to the bridge of my nose, pinching it in an attempt to prevent a headache and to forestall any further tears. “Gabriel is leaving Boston next week. He is going to travel west, have his grand adventure.” I paused for a moment and then finished in a barely audible voice, “And forget about me.”

“He’ll never forget about you, Rissa. Stop thinking that way,” Colin admonished. He sank down to his heels and looked to the floor. “I can’t believe he’d go. He has his workshop and family here.”

“He wants to be free of his aunt, wants to start again,” I said, bending forward at the waist, holding myself as though trying to contain the pain that seemed to overflow and seep out of me.

“Hmm…” Colin replied.

The door to the parlor flew open. Da stalked into the room. His frame vibrated with his restrained wrath, and his forehead shone beet red. He was breathing so hard I thought he would not be able to speak.

“I heard that
he
was here,” Da bellowed. “Colin, who let him in?”

Colin met Da’s glare with a steely expression, upset enough to not react to Da’s mood. “Da, calm down and listen for once,” Colin snapped. I blanched at Colin’s words, although felt too weary to react any further.

Mrs. Smythe sailed into the room, the pale green of her dress billowing behind her with her rapid movement. “Sean, whatever they tell you, they will fabricate what they need to make it seem necessary for that man to be here visiting Clarissa even though you forbade him to come here. I am surprised your children hold your authority with such little regard.” Her words baited Da as she turned a taunting, satisfied smile toward me.

“I would be quiet if I were you,” Colin said in a very low voice to Mrs. Smythe. He turned toward Da. “Da, will you listen to Rissa?”

Da stopped to study Colin and then took in my expression. I had turned to face him, and the ravages of my recent crying fit were clearly evident.

“Rissa, darling, what’s troubling you so?”

“He’s leaving, and he’ll never come back to me!” I started sobbing again. Colin patted my back and glared at Mrs. Smythe.

“What’s got the girl in such hysterics? She really needs to learn to better control her emotions,” Mrs. Smythe said with disdain in her voice.

“Gabriel is leaving within a week, and we don’t know if or when he will ever come back,” Colin ground out. He continued to glare at both of them, having decided that they shared the blame for this debacle.

“Gabriel, leaving?” Da asked in wonder. “He can’t leave. It was meant to be just a month or so apart to temper the gossips Rebecca was so worried about. He can’t go.” He sat down with a loud thud in his favorite chair.

“He can and he is. Because he’s sick of people like his aunt and Mrs.
Smythe
trying to ruin his life,” I cried.

“Clarissa, no one is trying to ruin his life,” Mrs. Smythe retorted with a small sniff. “And I don’t see why anyone is so upset. Good riddance, I say. You should have been focusing on more acceptable men in the first place, such as that charming Mr. Wright, though of course no one ever listens to me.” She paused, looking around the room, meeting Da’s glare at the mention of Cameron. She flushed with anger and said, “If you will excuse me?” and quietly left the room.

“I am sorry, Clarissa darlin’, that ye will be alone again,” Da said in a gruff voice. Da rose to approach me and then ineffectively patted my shoulder before following his wife from the room.

I fell into Colin’s arms, sobbing until I could cry no more. When I calmed, Colin eased me away and handed me a clean handkerchief.

“Rissa, I know you are upset, but I must give you a bit of advice,” Colin said warily as he watched me wipe my face.

I nodded for him to continue. My throat felt too raw to speak.

“You must encourage Gabriel in this journey, in this endeavor. He is taking a great risk in seeking to follow his dream, and you need to support him. Say that you will, Rissa,” he urged.

“I will, Col, though I don’t know what that means,” I said. All I envisioned were more nights spent sitting alone in the parlor listening to the insipid nattering of Mrs. Smythe.

“It means showing enthusiasm toward him and his trip before he leaves, not crying every time you are together. It means writing to him, so that he continues to feel a connection with you. It means believing that you will someday be with him again. That’s what I am saying,” Colin encouraged.