Undaunted Love (PART TWO): Banished Saga, Book 3.5 (14 page)

“They’re two sides of the same coin,” Jeremy said. “I think they’d be perfect for each other.”

I snickered my agreement.

“Wasn’t there some sort of scandal involving money surrounding his death?” Savannah asked.

“Yes. When he died, the company safe was breached at the same time as the fire. Everyone accused Sebastian, the mill foreman, of stealing the money.” I shook my head in consternation. “Anyone with sense would know he would never steal from his employers. He’s loyal and smart and wouldn’t do that. Besides, at the time he was supposedly busy stealing the money, he was in the mill, trying to save who he thought was Cameron. And nearly dying in the process.”

“Maybe they thought there was some sort of conspiracy?” Jeremy said. “That he would look to be aboveboard when he was really working with others to rob the company.”

“Whatever you say, I’ll never believe Sebastian had anything to do with the missing money. He’s a good man.” I shuddered. “Besides, Cameron admitted today he wasn’t going to return to Boston a pauper and mentioned the money from the safe. I’m sure he stole it. I just never thought he’d resort to murder.”

“Well, it’s your word against the town opinion in Missoula,” Jeremy said. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“I think we should have a gathering of minds,” Savannah said. “Let’s all meet at Sophie’s tonight. Jeremy, come with Florence and Richard. I’ll telephone Aunt Betsy, and we’ll concoct a plan.”

“I agree,” I said as I rose. “I should leave. I’m interrupting.” I waved, indicating the pile of papers in front of Savannah.

“Oh, I’m just trying to determine what we’ll need in our new home. Delusions of grandeur as I know everything we’ll have will be secondhand,” she said with a contented smile.

“I’ll escort you home, Clarissa. I don’t want you walking around with Cameron lurking about.” Jeremy rose, heading toward the small coat rack.

“I’ll come too,” Savannah said. I looped my arm through Savannah’s for the trip to Sophronia’s.

***

THAT EVENING, I SAT in Sophie’s parlor, attempting to smile bravely as everyone slowly trickled in. A fire crackled, emitting a gentle heat. Scattered lamps lit on side tables provided a welcoming glow to the room, in contrast to the stark brightness that would have been provided by an overhead chandelier. I had moved nearly every chair and settee in Sophie’s parlor so that they formed a large half circle, facing the fireplace, a low black walnut table in the middle. All seats were occupied. I sat nearest the fire, although I wished I had sat closer to the windows, as I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back.

“Well, my girl, you’ve gathered us together for some purpose. I hope you’ll soon share it with us.” Sophie’s voice was scratchier than usual as she tried to puzzle out why we were all assembled.

“A few of you know what happened today, so please forgive me for repeating myself. I was to visit Aunt Betsy and Aunt Matilda this afternoon. However, on my walk to Russell’s, I met Cameron.”

Colin jerked in his chair. “That’s impossible. He died in the sawmill fire. He’s buried in Missoula.”

“It wasn’t him who died, Col. Some poor drunk from Front Street. Didn’t it seem odd to you at Da’s funeral that his mother wasn’t angrier with me? At the time I was focused more on Mrs. Smythe, but, now that I think about it, I should have expected his mother to be distraught at seeing me. And she wasn’t.”

“What does he want?” Aunt Betsy asked.

“An illicit affair with Clarissa,” Jeremy said as I paused too long to answer.

“No,” Sophie gasped. I had rarely seen her shocked, and this was one of those moments. “The insolence!” Sophie said as she fanned herself. Her eyes flashed her displeasure.

“What can we do?” Florence asked.

“I don’t know. I have no desire to see him again, but a good friend of Colin’s, Gabriel’s and mine was accused of stealing the company money from a safe during that fire. I believe, and Cameron intimated, that he stole the money. I doubt I can obtain a binding confession from him. But I’d like some proof that he’s alive.”

“Have someone take a photograph of him,” Jeremy said. “That would prove the man is alive and help your friend in Missoula.”

“Would we have to hire a photographer?” Florence asked.

“No, we’ll buy one of those Brownie cameras from Kodak. One of you”—Sophie gazed with meaning at Jeremy, Richard and Colin—“will keep yourselves hidden as Clarissa is speaking with him.”

“If we splurge, we can buy one of their new pocket cameras,” Aunt Betsy said. “It would be much less obvious.”

“But how will we prove that she is speaking to him now and not when she used to live in Boston?” Savannah asked.

“The first picture taken should be one of the day’s newspapers so it dates the photos,” Jeremy said.

“Maybe I could also carry the same paper with me,” I said.

“Exactly,” Sophie said.

“We have to be close to them to obtain a decent photo of Cameron, Mrs. Chickering,” Jeremy said. He frowned as he envisioned the scene. “If there’s one thing I learned in the war, the best information you receive is that which the person freely supplies. We want him to feel relaxed with Clarissa, and, if he sees one of us, he won’t be.”

“Does he know all of us present?” Sophie asked.

“I’m afraid so,” I said as I glanced around. “We could meet in a coffee or tea shop. They’re always crowded, and one of you could easily hide.”

“The problem is that we’d need to be at the next table, Rissa,” Jeremy said. “The camera won’t take a good picture, probably not even at that distance.”

“He barely knows me,” Florence said. “He saw me when I was at your house for tea once, and then when I was in Richard’s arms at your uncle’s house. I doubt he paid me any mind, a poor, penniless schoolteacher. And I doubt he’d look twice at a pregnant woman.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do this, Flo,” I said.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Besides, it’s dreadfully dull being alone in the house all day.” She smiled. “I can act as though I’ve just received a new present from my doting husband, and I’m learning how to use it. That way I can sit next to you and take photographs.”

“You’ll have to be dressed a bit better,” Savannah argued.

“It seems a waste buying a new dress when I’ll soon be two sizes smaller,” Florence said with a pat to her belly.

“Savannah, you and Florence work on obtaining a dress. Colin, you can buy the camera,” Sophie said. “As for you, my girl,” she said with a tap to my knee with her fan, “I’d become accustomed to letter writing. You’re not leaving this house without an escort again until that man has been dealt with.”

CHAPTER 12

COLIN AND I STOOD on our old front steps, waiting for one of the maids to answer the door. I gripped my hands in front of me, pulling on my gloves with such force I tore off a button at the cuff. The black wrought iron handrail gleamed, as did the gold knocker on the door.

“Relax, Rissa. We have every right to want to visit our sister,” Colin said.

I nodded as I pasted on a smile as the door opened. Bridget barely spared us a glance before attempting to shut the door without acknowledging our presence. Colin stuffed his foot in the small opening, grunting with pain as the heavy door met his instep.

“Come on, Bridget, you know you have to let us in sometime,” Colin said. He leaned against the door with all his strength, and it burst forward as I heard a shriek and a
thunk
. I peered around Colin to see Bridget sprawled on the floor, her apron askew.

Colin entered, with me on his heels, and held out his hand to pull Bridget off the floor. “Loyalty is an admirable trait, as long as it’s not misplaced or misguided,” Colin said with a meaningful look.

She glared at the two of us and turned toward the back of the house, using the rear stairs to descend to the kitchen. Colin and I crept toward the door of the parlor and glanced inside. Colin couldn’t help grunting in surprise, and I gasped at the changes in the room.

At our slight noise, Mrs. Smythe turned toward us and glowered. “How dare you intrude upon my quietude,” she snapped. “You have no right to enter here.”

“We disagree. This was, after all, our home,” Colin said as he strolled into the room with feigned nonchalance. “Interesting choice of wallpaper.”

“It’s one that only the most esteemed of Boston society has been able to purchase. When I saw it, and realized the prestige it would bring our family, I knew I needed to have it installed.”

“Even though it beggared you and Da?” Colin asked.

“It’s done no such thing. And there isn’t a more desirable drawing room in the area.” She flushed as she slammed down her teacup.

“That wouldn’t be hard as you are now in a working man’s neighborhood. It’s not as though you are in the Back Bay,” I said. “Where did the piano go?”

“I thought a sitting area was more to our needs, rather than a decrepit old piece that constantly needed tuning.”

“So you sold that too? Even though you knew it was one of our mother’s favorite pieces?” Colin asked.

“One such as I will always look to my future rather than cling to the past. I’d suggest you do the same.” She eyed Colin. “It’s how I managed to receive more than I ever expected for the forge.”

“You stupid woman,” Colin growled. “If you had even a tenth of the intelligence you think you have, you would have spoken with me or someone with any knowledge about a forge. You would have known that, over time, you would have earned a handsome income. That selling was the last thing you should have done. Instead, you were on the verge of parting with it for a bargain to a fortune hunter.”

“I did no such thing. I received half again what I had originally expected to receive. A wealthy businessman offered more than Mr. Wade had been willing to pay. I think I did quite well for myself.”

“Did you never wonder why a wealthy businessman, one who has no previous experience in blacksmithing, would—all of a sudden—take an interest in your forge? He paid you half what it was worth, but because you’d been led to believe it had such little value, you thought yourself cunning. You’re a fool, Mrs. Smythe.” Colin paced in front of the fireplace.

“I fail to see how any of this is your business, Colin. It was mine to do with as I please. As your father’s widow, I inherited his estate. You and your siblings were entitled to nothing as you had all left home, and no will was formally written.”

“Did our da tell that you he’d like to leave us something?” I asked, my voice cracking as I looked around the sitting room, devoid of any of my mother’s warmth or charm. I fought the inclination to strain for my da’s booming voice; to listen for his heavy footsteps descending the stairs; to imagine, at any moment, he’d enter the parlor and enfold me in his strong arms.

“He made no specific bequests to any of you,” she snapped. “You ungrateful children are entitled to nothing! All you brought him was pain and heartache with your defection and inability to show him filial loyalty.”

“Mrs. Smythe …” Colin growled.

“And I would thank you to give me the respect I am owed as your stepmother. My name is Mrs. Sullivan, not Mrs. Smythe.” Her bosom heaved as she spat out her first married name.

“It was my birthright!” Colin roared. “And you stole it from me. And still you don’t have the decency to thank Clarissa and me for intervening, for advising Gabriel’s uncle to buy the forge for more than you were to receive from Mr. Wade so that Richard could run it. You continue under your delusional belief that you were a successful businesswoman.”

“How dare you interfere in my negotiations!”

“How dare you believe you could negotiate with a pair of sharks and not come out mauled!” Colin snapped, watching Mrs. Sullivan with unmitigated loathing. “If you’d had any sense, you would have kept the forge and offered it, if not to me, then to Richard to run.”

“I refuse to have any further contact than is strictly necessary with that family.” Mrs. Smythe glared at Colin and me, her back ramrod straight. “Any other foreman would have been preferable to a McLeod.”

“You are such a fool,” I whispered, filled with such a rage I couldn’t speak any louder. “You have no idea what you’ve lost. What you’ve forced, each of us, to lose. We lost Patrick due to your meddling. Colin lost the forge. I almost lost Gabriel. And you wonder why we never welcomed you into our family? Why we insisted on calling you by your first married name? Because you never wanted us. You never wanted to be a part of our family. You just wanted Da and whatever material gains you could receive from him. And now none of it matters. Because you don’t have Da, and you have no income.” I blinked away tears as I stared at her, feeling my antipathy bleed into a numb indifference.

“I have no need to discuss my business transactions with the likes of you. I would like you to leave my house,” Mrs. Smythe said.

“No. We want to see Melinda. We haven’t seen her since we arrived in Boston. We need to ensure that she is well.”

“Of course she is well. How dare you intimate otherwise! When I think of all I’ve had to suffer at the hands of such ungrateful stepchildren …” She glowered at us but did not finish her sentence.

I stood, my gloves twisted in knots in my hands. “We know the way to Melly’s room. Good day, Mrs. Smythe.” I turned and walked toward the parlor door.