Read Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two Online

Authors: Ramona Flightner

Tags: #Romance, #historical romance, #historical fiction

Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (24 page)

“But it’s yours. You should be able to do what you want with it,” I argued.

“In theory, Rissa, but not reality,” Savannah said. “And I would have greater control of it if it were actual property rather than money. As it is, Jonas controls it.”

“Then what use are the marriage rights laws for women?” I asked. “Why bother writing laws, saying they are going to protect the rights of women, and then ignore the laws they write?”

“Rissa…”

“You know as well as I do that the marriage rights laws were written to protect a woman’s property from their spendthrift husbands. That women were to be able to maintain control or title to whatever property they brought into a marriage. It was to help prevent women and children from becoming destitute and at the hands of creditors if they were to become widows, all because they couldn’t own or have the rights to property.” I snorted in disgust. “And yet the courts won’t uphold their own laws,” I hissed.

“You are taking a very one-sided view,” Savannah said.

“Of course I am. You should have control of your dowry, not Jonas. It’s yours, not his.” I took a deep breath, hoping my anger would dissipate. “You have had your dowry taken from you and are now trapped with such a man. Of course I am going to take your side.”

Savannah smiled and gripped my hand. “Rissa, I understand your need for suffragist politics, but today is not the day. Listen. Cameron knows about your dowry. It’s what he wants. Not you.”

I sat back against the settee, feeling winded. “And Mrs. Smythe?”

“She gets a portion of the dowry for smoothing his way.”

“How?”

“Why do you think he disappeared after my wedding?” She watched me closely. “Yes, I saw him there, taunting you. Why did he then miraculously reappear this fall after Gabriel was gone?”

“You can’t mean…” I asked, unable to continue.

“Yes, she advised him to give her time to ensure Gabriel’s absence.”

“How could she? She knew what Cameron was, and yet she encouraged him?”

“I imagine all she cares about is the money. And will do whatever she deems necessary to obtain it.”

“Even sacrificing me to someone like him,” I choked out.

“He has hurt you?”

“Terribly,” I whispered.

“I imagine he believes you are now bound to him?”

“But I’m not,” I said with a desperate defiance in my voice. “I made sure of it.”

Savannah watched me with sad eyes before nodding. “You aren’t yet, Rissa,” Savannah agreed. “You must ensure that you continue to evade him.”

“Sav, how do you know this?”

“The family parlor is fairly easy to eavesdrop on, which is why Jonas prefers me to entertain you there. He likes the maids to listen for any pertinent gossip and report back to him,” she said with a glower toward Jonas’s closed library door. “My maid, the only one in the house loyal to me, finally admitted it to me a few weeks ago even though she was terrified to do so.”

“Terrified?”

“Yes, for fear of being fired. She has to send money home to her family in Ireland.”

“Well, now that you know, you should say you prefer this parlor,” I said. “What did you learn when you eavesdropped?”

“I learned all about our dowries. About how the money almost compensated for having to marry so far below Jonas’s expectations,” Savannah said with a catch in her voice. “And I heard him encouraging Cameron to continue to pursue you even if he had to give a portion to that ‘dreadful’ woman.”

I glanced quickly at the door, saw no one nearby and heard no one approaching. I leaned in toward Savannah and breathed, “I have known for some time that I must leave.”

“Take care with those whom you trust, Rissa. You don’t want to be prevented from fulfilling your dreams.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before about what you had learned? You’ve known for a while now.”

“Jonas restricts who I can see and where I may go. When I called last week at my parents’ home, there were too many present to have a decent conversation. Jonas and I had a vicious argument yesterday about you calling today. I am sorry, Rissa, but I didn’t trust writing such information in a letter.”

I clasped her hand, my anger rising at the clues to her married life. “Please don’t worry. I know now and that will help me. Why don’t you want me to make a marriage like yours?”

“Because I realize I was maneuvered into a sham of a marriage. To a man who has no true regard for me. Into a world where I will never be accepted. Where people will always whisper about my shopkeeping beginnings. Where I understand now that even my mother used me to further her social standing and relationship with the grandparents.”

“Sav, Aunt Matilda loves you.”

“Not enough, it seems,” she said. “Though you should know, if you don’t marry someone acceptable, you may lose the dowry.”

“I don’t want their money.”

“You are so much braver than I am.”

“What...” I stopped as I heard footsteps approaching.

“Clarissa, how bereft I am to realize your visit is nearly over, and I have only just greeted you,” Jonas said.

“I did not wish to interrupt your important work,” Savannah murmured.

“I called to discuss the exciting news,” I said.

“Oh?”

“Yes, my travels to the suffragist convention in Minneapolis. I leave in a few days with Aunt Betsy and Mrs. Chickering.”

“Of course,” he said. “I had hoped you had rid yourself of such tendencies. Though I am certain, should you have the good sense to marry Cameron, you will be cured of such notions.”

“It’s not an illness.”

“Be that as it may, we shall be able to readily welcome you into our home when you have married an acceptable man,” Jonas said.

“I had hoped I would always be welcomed here,” I said with a lift of an eyebrow.

“Do not flatter yourself.”

“Jonas!” Savannah said.

“Don’t worry, Savannah, we understand each other,” I said.

“As long as you realize Cameron also understands you,” Jonas said in an ominous voice. “Has Mrs. Montgomery told you our news?”

I shook my head in denial, concerned for Savannah as she paled. “She will give birth to my son in six month’s time.”

“Your son?” I asked as I shared a quick glance with Savannah. “What about your daughter?”

“Mrs. Montgomery knows better than to give birth to a mewling girl.”

“She might have less control over the outcome than you think,” I said as Savannah paled further.

“Nonsense! Mrs. Montgomery knows she needs merely to focus to produce my heir. She knows what is expected of her and what shall happen should I be disappointed.”

“I give you my congratulations. I hope both mother and child have a safe and healthy time,” I said. I turned toward Savannah, searching for a spark of joy in her eyes. Instead, I saw overwhelming sorrow.

“I must leave you, Sav,” I said, choking up. I reached toward her, grasping her in a tight embrace. “Take care of yourself,” I whispered. She clung to me for a moment before releasing me.

“Jonas,” I said as I walked from the room with only a quick glance in his direction.

Outside I paused, closing my eyes, inhaling the scent of freshly tilled earth from their side garden, the loamy scent soothing me. I glanced to see red, purple and yellow tulips in full bloom, the beds recently weeded. I took a calming breath as I faced returning home for the first time since the day of Cameron’s assault.

***

I STOOD AT THE FRONT DOOR of my father’s house, fidgeting. Lucas sensed my mood and looped his arm through mine in an attempt to bolster my lagging spirit. I stared at a new gold knocker, the size of Uncle Martin’s large fist, fastened in the middle of the black door. Uncle Martin winked at me as he reached for it and rapped loudly on the door.

“It works well enough,” he said with a quick smile.

The maid Bridget answered the door. “I am unsure if they be acceptin’ callers,” she said.

“Nonsense,” Uncle Martin said as he pushed past her into the house. “I’m certain we are welcome.” He took off his hat, hung it on a peg on the hallstand, brushed at the sides of his trimmed brown hair, and walked into the parlor with Lucas and me in his wake.

“Sean, good to see you!” Uncle Martin exclaimed. I peered around the doorway of the parlor, hoping to see changes. However, Mrs. Smythe had done no redecorating in my absence, and the room was exactly as when I had left.

“Martin!” Da called out. He rose from his chair to shake Uncle Martin’s hand and to clap him on the back. “Lucas, you are very welcome.” He shook his hand, but continued to glance toward the doorway. I finally entered the parlor, and he said, “Ah, there she is. My girl, home at last.” He enfolded me in a warm embrace. He smelled of fresh soap and shaving cream. Smells that would forever remind me of Da.

“Hello, Da,” I whispered, trying not to cling to him.

“It’s good to see you,” he said. “I never thought you’d leave and not come back to us.”

I flushed and looked down.

“Ah, Clarissa, you’ve returned to us,” Mrs. Smythe said. She frowned, the fine lines around her eyes crinkling and highlighting her displeasure. She tapped her pale green silk fan against her thigh in agitation as we entered the room. “By now I’m sure you have seen the error of your actions and wish to move home.”

I took a deep breath to calm my roiling emotions at seeing her again. “Actually, no.”

“No? No? You’re not to move home? I’m surprised you don’t know your sense of duty. Duty to your family first, yourself always second. You are a selfish girl.”

“Mrs. Smythe, I have no interest in your proclamations on my person. I came to see my da and brothers before my journey.”

“Journey? Where are you going? Why have we not been consulted?”

“I am of age and able to decide what I would like to do.”

“It is that sort of belief that will cause you to remain a single, unwanted spinster for the rest of your life.”

“I am traveling to Chicago and then on to Minneapolis tomorrow with Mrs. Chickering and Aunt Betsy to attend the annual suffragist meeting. It is proper due to their presence.”

“I hardly believe going to a meeting with firebrand women who haven’t the sense to realize their good fortune to have men govern for them is acceptable for a young, impressionable woman.”

“I believe there are those who hope it will fulfill all of her suffragist tendencies and she will come home with an equal fervor for other interests,” Lucas said.

“You shouldn’t be going at all, young lady. If you were living at home, where you ought to be, if your unscrupulous uncle hadn’t taken you in and given you shelter after your horrific display of disobedience, then this would not be happening. You would be here now, with us, learning what you need to for your future life.”

“I believe I will learn important skills and information at the convention.”

“On how to scare decent, God-fearing men away! On how to continue to live your life as an unwanted, unloved spinster! How I despair for you. You have no sense, Clarissa. If you would only listen to those of us here, in this room, who wish the best for you.” She let out a dramatic sigh and then fanned herself as though it were all too much for her.

“Yes, I must always be certain to listen to the counsel of those who have my interests at heart,” I said.

Colin gripped my hand tightly. “It’s good to see you, Rissa,” Colin said. “Are all of your plans settled then?”

I shared a long look with him, his blue eyes showing their concern. “Yes, they are. We leave on the train tomorrow from South Station.”

“And all is to plan?” he murmured. We had spoken alone once after I received my letter from Gabriel of my plan to travel to Montana, and he had insisted on traveling with me.

“Yes.” I squeezed his hand, and he nodded in understanding. I swallowed a lump in my throat, thankful for his support.

“When do you return?” Mrs. Smythe asked.

“We return in a little over a month.”

“I hope when you return, you will have seen sense and will be more amenable to those who have shown you interest.”

Lucas and Uncle Martin moved to converse with Colin, and I rose to speak with Da. I wanted to spend a little time with him this evening and resented Mrs. Smythe’s presence.

He patted the settee next to him, and I sat down. “Tell me, Clarissa, how have you been? The house is too quiet without you in it.”

“I am well, Da. I have enjoyed having the liberty to do what I want and need.”

“I see now it was wrong to deny you of your freedoms…”

“Sean!”

“Hush, Rebecca,” he admonished. “I understand it was like trying to cage a songbird and expecting it to sing. Forgive me, Clarissa.”

“Da…” I said, unable to say more as I choked up.

“Any word from your Gabriel?”

“Sean!”

“He is well, enjoying life in the wilds of a mining town in Montana.”

“I always thought he’d come back for you.”

“Sean! That is completely inappropriate. She needs to focus on more acceptable men,” Mrs. Smythe sputtered.

“Well, I always thought he was an appropriate young man. A little forward, mind, and I would have appreciated him speaking with me about courting Clarissa. I want you to understand, Clarissa. Even though I wanted you separated from him for a little while when he lived in Boston, I never wanted him to leave.” He studied me as I nodded my understanding. “I wish him well.”

“Thank you, Da.”

“Clarissa, darling, when are you coming home? I had hoped, after my letter, you would return to us.”

“I am uncertain, Da,” I said. “I shall consider it after the convention.”

“Do. I want you home where I can ensure you’re safe.”

“I’ll let you know, Da,” I said, clearing my throat so that I would not cry. I stared around the room, the one room I would never feel safe in again and stifled a shudder. “I should leave soon as the train departs early tomorrow morning.”

“Take care of yourself, my Clarissa,” Da said, rising to envelop me in a strong embrace. “Come back to us.”

“’Bye, Da,” I whispered, fighting tears.

CHAPTER 21

“OH, GABRIEL, I AM SORRY,” Amelia murmured as she rocked baby Anne in her arms, trying to settle her. Nicholas sat in a corner near the dilapidated sofa, chastised for pinching Anne. Amelia’s hair was tied back in a lose braid, and faint traces of flour clung to her hair and clothes. The scent of baking bread wafted from the kitchen mingling with the scent of drooping day lilies and carnations from the funeral and wake.

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