Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (22 page)

“Rich.” Florence sobbed as she fell into his arms, the two of them kneeling on Aunt Matilda’s thick Aubusson carpet. I gripped Jeremy’s arm in my excitement for Florence.

“Someday you will have this too, Miss Sullivan,” Jeremy whispered.

“Thank you.” I sighed.

“Isn’t this a touching scene?” Cameron asked as he strolled into the room. His blond hair was held in place with pomade while his impeccable clothes proclaimed him a man of wealth and society. He fiddled with his cuff links, the emerald ones he had worn that day in my sitting room. I fought memories as I inhaled the scent of his bay rum cologne.

I started at his unexpected arrival, with Polly nowhere in sight, and grasped Jeremy’s arm with such force he grunted in pain. “Cameron, what are you doing here?”

“No need to show such enthusiasm, Clarissa,” Cameron chided.

Richard, who continued to hold a sniffling Florence in his arms, looked from Cameron to me, concern flitting across his expression. “Mr. Wright. I had hoped not to see you again.”

“The sentiment was mutual,” Cameron snapped as he glared at Richard and Jeremy. “I had hoped to sit next to my betrothed.” He hovered over Jeremy and me, raising one eyebrow as he looked toward Jeremy. “Would you please move to another seat?”

“No,” Jeremy said in a hard voice as he glared at Cameron. “Miss Sullivan?” he murmured as he leaned toward me but did not take his gaze off of Cameron.

“We are not betrothed,” I said. “We are nothing to each other.”

“You wound me, dearest Clarissa. I thought we’d come to an understanding last time we met in your sitting room. From your actions, I understood you to agree to my proposal. I, for one, enjoyed our interlude.”

“The only understanding we reached was that you have a fanciful imagination,” I gasped. “And for my part, little enjoyment was found.”

“Oh, I no longer need to imagine much,” he said in a low silky voice that caused me to shiver. “In fact, I brought you a gift to replace the worthless bit of tin you wore last time I called.”

“You no longer wear Gabe’s necklace?” Richard asked from across the room.

I felt Jeremy flinch next to me and heard him say, “Ah,” as Cameron leaned over me. I focused on breathing as his scent, his warmth, his nearness enveloped me. His emerald cuff links twinkled at me, mocking me. “Go away,” I urged as my hands gripped the seat edge of the settee, my nails gouging into the dulled, gaudy fabric.

“Never, darling Carissa. You will never be free of me.” He reached for the neck of my gown as though to open it. I jolted and squirmed, bumping into Jeremy.

Cameron reached for something in his pocket, and I jerked farther away, leaning as far into the back of the settee as possible, battling memories. After a moment, I freed my hands from their tight grip on the settee and pushed at his shoulders with all my strength. “Go away!” I yelled. He stumbled back, nearly falling onto his backside.

When he rose from his crouched position by my side, he smoothed down his jacket and hair. A red flush highlighted his cheekbones and agitation.

“I believe Miss Sullivan would like you to leave,” Jeremy said.

“I would think you would know better than to interfere in matters that do not concern you. Although seeing as you’re related to that worthless laborer, I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t know your place.”

“He’s worth ten of you,” Jeremy snapped, rising to his imposing height, towering over Cameron. “If you will follow me out, sir, Miss Sullivan has made it clear she has no interest in seeing you.”

“How impertinent! Who are you to order me about?”

“I don’t care who you think I am, and I don’t really care what you think about my family. But you are through hurting Miss Sullivan.” Before I knew it, Jeremy had grasped Cameron’s arm and wrenched it behind his back, immobilizing him. Cameron gave a shout of pain as Jeremy hitched his arm a bit higher up, causing Cameron to bend forward. “You are no match for the likes of me. You have no idea what I am capable of. Don’t test me.” He pushed Cameron in the back and propelled him out of the room.

“Bravo,” Lucas said as he plastered himself against the door frame as Jeremy forced Cameron out of the room. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”

“Clarissa?” Florence asked from Richard’s embrace. “What did Jeremy mean?”

Lucas looked into the parlor at Florence’s voice, and saw Florence and Richard sitting on the floor near a chair by the piano. He tugged on his dusty gray waistcoat and shrugged into the matching jacket he had been in the process of shedding. As he brushed his light brown hair out of his eyes, he turned to me with inquisitive amber eyes. “I hadn’t realized we were entertaining the McLeods tonight.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Lucas, could you play for us?” I asked, thankful for his arrival and distraction from Florence’s question and ignoring the implied question from Lucas.

After he studied me for a moment, he said, “I’d love to. Seems a celebration of sorts is in order for the removal of such a rodent.” He sauntered toward the piano in the corner of the room, sat and played “Für Elise.”

Jeremy entered and stood in the doorway transfixed by Lucas’s music. Lucas continued to play songs in the same vein as Jeremy eventually sat in a nearby chair, though he continued to focus solely on Lucas’s playing.

After a while, Lucas finished and smiled toward me. “Any requests, Rissa?” He continued to play random, harmonious chords as he awaited my response.

“Can you play ‘Maple Leaf Rag’ for us?” I asked.

“With pleasure!” Soon the room was filled with the sounds of his joyous playing. The song was bittersweet as it reminded me of last year when I was with Gabriel. I saw Richard settle Florence into his arms as he leaned against a chair. Jeremy now watched Lucas play with rapt fascination.

When Lucas finished, we all burst into applause. “Have you ever considered performing?” Jeremy asked. “You are extraordinary.”

“No, no need to perform when I have a good, steady job here at the linen store,” Lucas said. Jeremy looked to be about to argue with Lucas when he was interrupted.

“Lucas!” Savannah exclaimed from the doorway. “I am thankful I heard the end of that song. You play it so well, and I haven’t heard you play in too long.” She rushed into the room to embrace her brother.

“Sav!” I said, jumping up to hug her. “What are you doing here? It’s wonderful to see you.”

“I had thought I would call as it has been a while since my last visit. Mr. Montgomery likes to keep a very busy social calendar. And I heard that you were staying with Mother and Father now.” We studied each other.

I noted her gaunt features and listless hair. Her stylish cream-colored brocade tea dress with fine machine lace overlay hung on her. No amount of corseting could enhance curves that had disappeared. As I studied her, I could only imagine what changes she saw in me.

“Savannah, may I introduce you to Mr. Jeremy McLeod and Miss Florence Butler? I am sure you remember Mr. Richard McLeod. Florence and Jeremy, this is my cousin, Mrs. Montgomery.”

“Pleasure,” Florence and Jeremy said in unison.

“Clarissa, what did Jeremy mean by not allowing Cameron to hurt you further?” Florence asked.

“Cameron was here?” Savannah asked as Lucas frowned at me from his piano bench.

“Yes, he was,” I said as my mind raced to concoct a suitable excuse.

Lucas spoke up as he continued to play. “I would think Clarissa wouldn’t want much more to do with that rat after he abandoned her almost three years ago. Why would she allow herself to be hurt by him again? She’s smarter than that.”

“Exactly,” I said.

Florence and Richard seemed unconvinced, and Jeremy shook his head in silent disagreement but said nothing else.

“Mother would be scandalized to find the pair of you sitting on her parlor floor. Why don’t you sit on one of the settees?” Savannah asked Richard and Florence.

“We are quite settled where we are,” Richard said as he snuggled Florence closer to him.

“And the settees aren’t all that comfortable,” Lucas said.

“Lucas!” Savannah chided.

“Well, they aren’t, Sav. Besides, they just became engaged. They want some time together, I imagine,” I said with a wink to Lucas.

“Oh, engaged. How lovely. Let’s call for a bottle of champagne to toast your future.”

“Sav, I doubt Uncle Martin has champagne waiting for a visit from you.” I shared an amused smile with Lucas as Jeremy shook his head at the thought.

“I will think of something,” she said as she rose and walked to the door. After a few moments, she returned. “This reminds me of a party I attended recently. It was a grand affair on Newbury Street. We must have drunk fifty bottles of champagne. What an evening.”

“I’m surprised at you, Sav,” I said. “I thought you were more of a temperance-movement wife.”

“Jonas doesn’t approve of the movement. Thinks that individuals, rather than any governmental decree, should decide for themselves what they should and shouldn’t drink. I, of course, believe as my husband does.”

A few moments later, Polly entered with another maid carrying a tray with glasses and two bottles of white wine. “It’s not champagne, but it will suffice to toast the newly betrothed,” Savannah said. She raised her glass. “To Richard and Florence! May you have a lifetime of love, health and prosperity.”

“Hear, hear,” we all said in unison.

After the toast, Savannah noted the time and rose to depart. I walked Savannah to the front door. “You are happy here, Rissa?” Savannah asked.

“Yes, I am. Much more so than at home,” I said. “I needed more freedom.”

“I don’t see you missing Mrs. Smythe, although I feel badly for your father.”

“I do too, but that couldn’t be helped.”

“Are you feeling well? You’re quite pale.”

“I’m just a little under the weather. I am sure it will pass soon,” I whispered. Savannah studied me for a moment before nodding her agreement.

“Take care with Cameron. He is set on you and will not be easily thwarted.”

“Sav?”

“Be sure to call for tea soon,” she whispered as she leaned in for a hug.

I closed the door behind her and moved toward Gabriel’s glass-case displays. I needed to feel close to him tonight, and I wanted to read his letter away from the sitting room and curious eyes.

April 19, 1901

My darling Clarissa,

I write with news that may distress you. I know that for some time you have believed that I would return to Boston. I must be honest with you. I will never return to Boston to live.

Boston is my past, darling. Life in Montana is my future. Would you consider traveling to me? I have friends here who would welcome you. I know it is not the same as having family nearby, but I believe we can become family for each other, wherever we live. I have steady work, and my reputation as a reliable finish carpenter is growing.

I miss you, my darling, and want nothing more than to be reunited with you. Please come to me.

I miss you, my love,

Gabriel

I stifled a sob as I kissed his handwriting. Finally I knew where I was headed: toward my heart’s desire.

CHAPTER 19

“GABRIEL, I DON’T FEEL strong enough to go to Duggan’s. Will you…” Amelia stopped speaking, biting her trembling lip as tears fell. Her honey-blond hair was pulled back severely into a tight bun, and she wore a dated black satin mourning dress with puffy sleeves.

“Of course,” Gabriel soothed. “Do you still wish to have the wake here?” he asked as he looked around the cramped living room. His crisp black pants had creases down the front, thanks to the meticulous laundering from the Chinese laundry. The indigo of his shirt enhanced the blue of his eyes.

“I want my Liam home, even if it’s only for the wake. And Matthew and Ronan were our good friends. They should be together.”

“I understand, Amelia,” Gabriel said. He gripped her arm as he left to travel to Uptown Butte. Not wishing to dirty his clothes for the wake, he rode the streetcar for the short trip to the undertaker’s in Uptown. A faint breeze blew, allowing him to see the valley and the mountains in the distance as the trolley descended the hill. He disembarked at Copper Street walking the short distance to Duggan’s.

Duggan’s funeral parlor consisted of a small brick building with potted plants in the front. Gabriel glared at the flowers, at anything attempting to brighten his mood. As he entered the dimly lit foyer, he doffed his hat. Soon his nose itched from the hint of incense and he wanted to flee as he heard the faint wails of another’s grief. After waiting a few moments, he spoke with a chubby middle-aged man.

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” the man said as he wiped perspiration from his forehead with a crisp white handkerchief. “The … ah ... well, they are waiting for you over here.” He held out his arm and led Gabriel to a small room adjacent to the main entranceway.

Upon entering, Gabriel noted that the coffin covers were closed. He did a quick double take when he saw two coffins. “Excuse me,” he said to the man as he took his leave. “There were supposed to be three.”

“Only two were delivered, young man.”

Gabriel collapsed onto a nearby chair. “Are you saying that one of them survived?”

“I couldn’t say. What I can say is that we prepared two bodies for you for burial. And we’ll transport them to the widow’s home when you like. Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, we’ve been terribly busy of late.”

“Of course.” Gabriel sat, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, staring at the coffins. He took a deep breath, stood up and slowly approached the caskets.

He exhaled, reaching out to the first coffin, grunting with the weight as he heaved it open more brusquely than he would have liked. He looked down into Matthew’s peaceful face and sighed.

After carefully lowering the casket cover, he moved to the other one. Prepared for the heavy weight of the lid, he opened it more smoothly. “Liam,” he murmured.