Read Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four Online
Authors: Ramona Flightner
Zylphia smiled and sat up straight. “That was a fine scold. You’ve become more proficient with them these past few days. I’m glad I’ve been good practice for you when you’ll need them for Melly in the future.”
Jeremy laughed out loud and rose, offering his arm to Zylphia. “Let’s find you some dinner, and you can regale me with tales of that party.”
“I know Father had hoped my coming here would, in some way, lessen my desire to become such an active participant in this movement. Instead it’s fueled my desire to become an ever-greater part of it.”
“I know Uncle will only want for you to be content. If I know Uncle at all, he’ll be enormously proud of what you want to accomplish. Just as he was when he attended your graduation from Radcliffe.”
“I wish now I’d studied something other than English literature. I desire to know more about government policy and how to enact change.” She paused as she ordered dinner, and Jeremy asked for a cup of coffee.
“God help us if you were any more adept,” Jeremy muttered. “None of us would be safe from your plots to change the world.”
“I only have energy for the women’s movement.”
“For now. When you’ve accomplished this goal, you’ll find something else.” He smiled his thanks to the waiter and took a small sip of his coffee. “Unless, of course, you decide to do something truly conventional, like marry.”
Zylphia glared at him for a moment before laughing. “You know that I’ve never envisioned myself married with children.”
He watched her intently, and she struggled not to squirm under his scrutiny as he said, “I’ve heard how you are with Richard’s boys, how you dote and relish your time with them. Besides, I can’t imagine you wish to go through life alone.”
Zylphia flushed and played with her silverware, before tracing a finger along the starched white tablecloth. “There’s a joy in knowing I can leave for the quiet of my own house while they have to remain in the chaos of their home.”
“Zee.” He raised an eyebrow, refusing to be waylaid by her attempt at levity.
“I find it nearly impossible to imagine having what you and Savannah have. What any of your brothers have. I don’t think it’s meant to be for me.”
“You’re quite young to decide you are against marriage forever,” Jeremy teased. “Besides, didn’t Uncle mention you were to have some sort of foray into society?”
“Yes, I’m to learn what I can from Sophie and a few of my friends before I join them at a house party in Newport this summer.” Her eyes sparkled with her delight. “I’m hoping to make contacts that will help the movement.”
Jeremy laughed. “Or you could enjoy yourself. You never know who you’ll meet.” He laughed again at her frown, nodding as her meal was served.
“Can you see one of those society men interested in me? I have no graces. I speak before thinking, and I fear I’ll never learn to dance well.”
“If your worst fear is that you don’t waltz, I think you’ll do just fine.” He took another sip of his coffee as he watched Zylphia devour part of her dinner. “And, for what it’s worth—as I’m your cousin, and I know my opinion doesn’t count—any of those men would be fortunate to have a woman such as you in their lives.”
Zylphia flushed at his compliment before turning the conversation to Savannah’s and his adopted daughter, Melinda—Clarissa’s and Colin’s much younger half-sister by their father and his second wife. The older siblings persisted in calling their stepmother Mrs. Smythe as a sign of disrespect. At their father’s death in 1902, their stepmother had placed Melinda in an orphanage. However, Colin had rescued his youngest sister and brought her to live with him while he remained in Boston after his father’s funeral. When he decided to return to Montana in the spring of 1903, Jeremy and Savannah had joined him on the journey. During the train travel west from Boston to Missoula, Savannah and Jeremy had begun to consider Melinda their daughter and had raised her as such for the past ten years.
“We had a letter today from Araminta, who’s minding the children while we are away. She said they’re all doing well, although Melly misses us and her siblings, and wants us to return.”
“I imagine she’s jealous she wasn’t able to travel with you.”
“We didn’t want her to miss so much school,” Jeremy said. “Although I realize now that might have been an error. She would have learned a tremendous amount traveling here.”
“You have the resources to travel with ease, Jeremy,” Zylphia said with a wry turn of her lips.
“Yes, but Savannah and I decided that Melinda’s education is what is most important. We want her to have every opportunity available to her.”
“Which is the reason you support women obtaining the vote.”
“Partially. I support it because I believe in Savannah.” His eyes became distant, almost haunted. “I want her, and women like her, to have more rights when it comes to their lives. I know the vote won’t change everything overnight, but I hope it will lead to an eventual transformation as to how we view women.”
“That’s quite advanced, cousin,” Zylphia teased.
Jeremy shook his head. His sober countenance caused Zylphia to blush at her attempt at levity. “You didn’t see her. Battered and soul weary from the treatment inflicted upon her by her first husband.” He raised defiant, mutinous eyes. “When women have the vote, their concerns will be heard. Their abuse will no longer be brushed aside.”
Zylphia clasped his hand. “I’m sorry for teasing you, Jeremy. Forgive me.”
He sighed, the tension dissipating as the air left him. “Forgive me for becoming too serious. As you can see, everyone has a different reason for wanting to join this movement.”
Zylphia toyed with her silverware a minute before asking in a halting voice, “How did you coax Savannah into trusting you? I’d think she’d have remained an unmarried woman rather than place her faith in any man after what she suffered with her first husband.”
“With time and patience, she learned that not all men were like him.” He smiled with fondness as he thought about the months he and Savannah had shared that led to their unique courtship. “I had to be patient, and she learned that I needed her as much as she could need me.”
Zylphia rested against the back of her chair, lost in thought.
“You’re too young to settle for a cause as your bedmate, Zee. Be patient.” Jeremy winked at her and then sobered as he murmured, “Be brave.”
* * *
T
he door creaked open
, causing Jeremy to cringe and dispelling any hope for a stealthy entrance. A small lit lamp cast long shadows on the walls and the bed. Savannah stirred under the cream-colored coverlet, and he grimaced. “Forgive me for waking you, my love,” he whispered as he changed out of his clothes.
“I meant to remain awake, but I was so sleepy.” She leaned up on one elbow, her rumpled strawberry-blond hair cascading over one shoulder in a long, disheveled braid. “Did you find her?”
“As you suspected, she attended the party alone.”
“I know you worry, but she is almost twenty-six. Besides, she was with a group of women.” Savannah yawned as she reached out an arm to Jeremy.
“Women who were attacked on the march today. The streets remain filled with rowdy drunken men intent on mischief.”
“Which, of course, you noticed outside while you were pacing in the lobby,” Savannah said with warm humor lacing her voice. “Come to bed, my darling. It’s been a long day.” She lay on her side, waiting to snuggle into Jeremy’s embrace.
He climbed under the covers, eliciting a shiver from Savannah as he tugged her into his arms, cradling her blanket-warmed body against him. He stroked a hand up and down her bare arm.
“How are you, my love?” he asked as he kissed the back of her head.
A stuttering sigh was his only response.
“I know it bothered you not being with your family today when they took to the streets.”
“You know as well as I do that I wasn’t strong enough for that,” she whispered.
Jeremy heard her breath catch.
“Besides,” she continued, “with what happened, … I wouldn’t have made it to the end of the parade route.”
Jeremy frowned as he felt the slight trembling of her body as she fought tears. “Talk to me, please, Savannah.”
“I am filled with such a nearly … unutterable … rage.”
Jeremy’s quiet acceptance of her words, the persistent soft stroke of his hand over her arm, encouraged her to continue.
“And a sadness that seems boundless.”
Jeremy coaxed her onto her back, stroking away silent tears, gazing with intense sincerity into her eyes. “Why the rage?” He bit back the question he most wanted to ask.
“At fate.” She swallowed back a whimper. “At what I can’t have.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, before asking, “With me?” He felt Savannah soften in his arms and opened his eyes to meet her gaze, filled with a mixture of revelation, self-recrimination and wonder.
“Never with you.” She stroked his cheek. “Every moment with you is a gift, Jeremy. I never knew I could be so fortunate as to meet a man like you. And to have a man such as you love me. I hate the limitations imposed on us by our recent loss and my slow recovery.”
“When you almost died this last time”—he broke off as his eyes filled with tears—“I just can’t lose you, my Savannah. Nothing, not making love with you, not even a baby, is worth that.” He met her eyes with a pleading desperation. “Please tell me that you understand.”
“I know we have Melinda, but I still yearn for more,” Savannah whispered, leaning up and burying her face in the crook of his neck. “A little boy with your eyes, my smile and a mixture of my impulsiveness and your good sense.”
“Ah, my love.” Jeremy cradled her face between his palms, knowing she dared never to dream for another daughter after losing her daughter Hope. “How could we want for more? We have a beautiful daughter in Melly. A wonderful home in Missoula, near Clarissa and Gabe. You have causes you promote, and I have my work. What more could we want?”
“Rationally I know what you say is true.”
“But the heart’s not rational,” Jeremy murmured, a deep love and understanding in his voice. “No matter what you want, no matter how I wish to give you your heart’s desire, I can’t bear to risk your life with another pregnancy.”
Savannah stifled a sob and nodded. “I know. I understand. And a part of me, the part that clawed back from the brink of death after the last miscarriage, is relieved.”
After a few moments while Jeremy held Savannah in his arms, stroking a hand over her head, her back, her arms, he felt her relax. “And the other part?”
“Continues to mourn the dream.”
“It’s nothing we can’t face together, darling.” Jeremy released a contented sigh as Savannah snuggled into his arms.
C
larissa sat
at the table in Sophie’s suite, sipping a cup of tea. Bright light streamed in through the curtain-free windows, casting a warm glow on the gold and green flowered rug. She perused the morning’s newspaper, shaking her head in disgust as she read an editorial criticizing the women for marching. She flipped the page, featuring a picture of Inez Milholland on her white horse, and read the account of the violent march. She glowered as the reporter cast blame on the women marchers for enticing the men into acting in such a manner, although the reporter admitted that the men forced their way past the erected barricade.
Even though she’d lived through it, she shivered when reading how over one hundred women needed medical care after the march. Dozens remained hospitalized or incapacitated in some way. The varying calls for the return to a traditional home and values equaled that of the outrage voiced at the treatment of the women on the march. Calls for a congressional investigation were strong, although one opined his belief that the women who marched should expect no deferential treatment if they desired to move into the political realm.
Clarissa focused on a small notice of President-Elect Wilson’s arrival in Washington the previous day. Her glower transformed into a smile as she read of his disgruntled realization that no crowds greeted his arrival because they were watching the women’s march. “I hope this will help him understand the importance of our cause,” she murmured as she flipped to another page.
She grimaced as she read about the disastrous sinking of a British passenger ship, the
Calvados
, sunk during a storm in the Marmara Sea near Istanbul, where all two hundred passengers perished. “So terrible.” She momentarily thought of losing her family in such a way, but her mind shied away from such a tragedy. Losing one child had been painful enough. She couldn’t imagine any harm coming to her three living children.
“Are you ready, dear?” Sophie asked as she emerged from her room. She raised an eyebrow at Clarissa’s downcast expression.
“Of course. I was reading about the disaster in Turkey.” She folded the paper and held out the article for Sophie to scan.
“Poor wretches,” Sophie said. “Although I can’t imagine anyone desirous of visiting that part of the world.” She
thunk
ed her cane. “Come. We are meeting the others in the lobby, and I refuse to lose our seats along the inauguration route due to any dillydallying.”
Clarissa smiled and rose. Her woolen sage-green dress highlighted her trim figure, chestnut hair and the bruise blooming on her cheek.
“I’m thankful you did not use any of those horrid so-called beauty products on your face to conceal your injury.” She paused in the doorway to look at Clarissa’s face. “It’s coloring as I’d hoped it would.”
“Sophie, how can you be pleased at my mistreatment?”
“I’m not. However, seeing as you were abused, it seems only proper you stand front and center of our group as we greet our new president. He should see what the actions of so-called
gentlemen
have wrought.” She spun, her cane
thunk
ing with her determination as she strode down the carpeted hallway toward the elevator.
“Sophie!” Clarissa sputtered. Others were present in the elevator, preventing Clarissa from speaking freely. As the elevator stopped at each floor and filled, pleasantries were exchanged by those who boarded. Clarissa hid a flinch each time a stranger gawked at her bruise, tilting up her chin with false bravado.
They joined their group in the opulent foyer. Bright sunlight streamed through the high windows, enhancing the spacious feel of the entranceway. A shaft of sunlight enhanced the earthy tones of the mosaic and marble floors, while the golden marble columns gleamed. Hotel patrons streamed from the elevators and foyer, many carrying small flags, as they headed toward the inauguration and its parade. Their voices were excited, although subdued in comparison to the previous day’s participants.
Clarissa stood next to Gabriel, flinching as his hand came to rest on the small of her back. She spoke to her family. “Sophie wishes me to sit at the front of our group, thus confronting President Wilson with the violence that occurred yesterday.” She felt Gabriel stiffen behind her.
“I’m not certain this is the correct action to take,” Gabriel said. “Clarissa and the other women marchers have already suffered plenty.”
Zylphia clapped her hands together with barely contained excitement. “I think it a marvelous idea. Why should we cover up what men have done? They should feel ashamed, not us.”
“I fear I must agree with Zee,” Jeremy said. “The women had every right to march and expect protection. Now some sort of consequences should be levied against those who perpetrated such violence.”
“Yes, that’s all well and good, but it’s not you who must be made an example of,” Clarissa protested. “I’m thankful we are just watching the parade, rather than sitting through his inauguration.”
“If I could have obtained seats, we would have been at the ceremony. However, the best I could do was convince a friend of mine to give us a block of seats along the parade route. I refuse to stand for hours on end at my age,” Sophie said, ignoring Clarissa’s complaint.
“You can do it, Rissa,” Zylphia said, looping her arm through Clarissa’s and dragging her forward with the force of her enthusiasm. “We’ll all be with you and beside you to support you.”
Sophie’s striking eyes sparkled with mischief as she followed Zylphia and Clarissa from the hotel. Gabriel offered his arm to Sophie, and his brothers walked arm in arm with their wives.
Throngs of people filled the streets, crowding both sides of Pennsylvania Avenue. A large contingent of police ensured the avenue remained clear. The grandstands used for the previous day’s procession were now filled with national and international dignitaries, and they awaited the new president’s triumphant journey from his inauguration at the Capitol to his new home at the White House via the inaugural parade. The decorative red, white and blue bunting strung from the balconies and windowsills had doubled from the day before. Peddlers hawked commemorative inaugural coins and postcards of Washington, DC.
As the McLeod clan walked, Sophie used her cane to clear a path within the crowd, having taken the lead from Zylphia and Clarissa. Sophronia maneuvered their large group to a smaller grandstand with perfect views of the inaugural route. She pushed Clarissa, Florence, Savannah and Zylphia to the front of their group and stationed the McLeod brothers behind their wives, while Sophie sat behind Zylphia.
The sunny day had warmed to over fifty degrees, and they sat, awaiting the arrival of the president. They heard distant applause and then the sounding of a cannon followed by trumpets. Clarissa shared a bemused smile with Zylphia and leaned forward to find Pennsylvania Avenue empty.
“He’ll arrive soon,” Sophie said.
A large contingent of soldiers on shiny black horses appeared. Half of their number preceded a carriage, while the other half flanked the rear of the carriage.
“That will be the president,” Sophie said. She gave Clarissa a nudge, and Clarissa raised her head and leaned forward in her seat from her family members. However, by the time President Wilson reached them, his carriage was moving quickly. He waved at the large crowd, his rapid pace precluding him from focusing on any one group.
After he passed, Sophie
harrumph
ed her displeasure. “That man must be made to see what was wrought yesterday.”
“I’m afraid that, even if he’s forced to acknowledge it, he may not understand it,” Florence murmured. “After what I saw yesterday, too many believe the women received what they deserved for daring to demand more.”
Richard laid a soothing hand on his wife’s shoulder, and she leaned into his touch.
The group remained to listen to the marching bands interspersed with floats representative of every state in the nation. Montana’s float depicting the industry of the state appeared, carrying a group of men dressed as miners and another as loggers. Four strong Percheron horses pulled the float. As they passed, the Montana McLeods cheered loudly, earning a salute from the men on the float.
This caused the McLeods to cheer even more loudly, their enthusiasm infectious to those around them. “Oh, how wonderful that Montana is represented,” Clarissa said.
“They said every state in the nation would be, although I had my doubts they truly meant it,” Gabriel said.
As the parade ended, the McLeod clan joined the slow-moving group leaving the parade route and returned to their hotel. “I’m planning a quiet evening tonight,” Sophie said. “Those who would like to join me are welcome.”
* * *
S
ophie
harrumph
ed
as she read the evening newspaper. “I hope Alice has something to say to our new president to alter his way of thinking.”
“As do I. There is no excuse for how the women were treated on the march,” Richard said.
“That’s not what I mean. Listen to what he said in his Inaugural Address. They reprinted it in the paper.” She cleared her throat of a portion of its raspiness and read aloud:
Men’s hearts wait upon us; men’s lives hang in the balance; men’s hopes call upon us to say what we will do. Who shall live up to the great trust? Who dares fail to try? I summon all honest men, all patriotic, all forward-looking men, to my side.
Richard shared a perplexed glance with Jeremy. “I’m uncertain as to why you are offended. Seems a sound argument to me.”
“
Men. Men. Men
!” Sophie barked. “Don’t believe for a moment he was considering women in his speech when discussing his concern for men. I doubt that man remembers on many days that he was birthed by a woman, is married to one, nor that he has a daughter.”
“That’s uncharitable, Sophia,” Savannah scolded.
“But true.” Sophie slapped down the paper, glaring at the words. “I fear that man will refuse to be reasonable when it comes to women desiring the vote. If his only concern is for men, it is evident he fails to see the other half of the population.”
“It makes sense for him to address those who voted him into office,” Jeremy said, with a wink to Richard.
Sophie glowered at him. “Exactly, dear boy. Which is why he, and politicians who think like him, must come to understand that the struggle for universal enfranchisement is not one they can defeat. Their fists, their bullying and their patronizing will not keep us from attaining our objective.”
“I don’t know what more you can do,” Savannah said.
“Thankfully we have young women who are intent on reaching the objectives my generation has failed to secure. I am convinced that, with their diligence and determination, we will succeed.” She
thunk
ed her cane for good measure, discouraging disagreement.
“I fear they will promote violence,” Jeremy said. “Zylphia is already enthralled with the women she’s met here, and I’m concerned she will become even more so should she meet Miss Paul or Miss Burns.”
“While it’s true that Alice and Lucy learned numerous methods from the Pankhursts in England, many which would be considered objectionable, I remain convinced Alice will refrain from outward violence.” Sophie shared a chagrined smile with those in her sitting room. “However, I cannot guarantee Alice won’t defy conventions.”