Undaunted Love (PART TWO): Banished Saga, Book 3.5 (29 page)

Martin stood, standing next to the settee where Savannah and Lucas sat. “You are not welcome here. Savannah and her daughter will never return to you, no matter how you may have been led to believe otherwise by my wife. I ask you to leave.”

Jonas’s expression lightened to one of mocking amusement. “You mistakenly believe because you outmaneuvered me with regard to your business loans that you have some influence over my personal life. You are under the impression you have any say in the matter of whether Mrs. Montgomery, my wife, returns home with me or not. You have none. She is mine, to do with as I please. And it pleases me to have her at home with me. You granted me that distinction when you gave me her hand in matrimony.”

“Consider it rescinded,” Martin snapped. “I will not have a maniacal, brutal man near my daughter again. I will not have you anywhere near my granddaughter. Do you understand me?”

“Do you truly believe that one such as you can act against one such as me?” Jonas smirked as he watched Savannah who had begun to tremble on the settee. “Mrs. Montgomery, come here. Now.”

His low, harsh words provoked a shudder and whimper in Savannah. She raised tormented eyes to him, but, rather than the defeated look he was accustomed to, she smiled with defiance. “Never. You may have been able to control me in the past with your threats and brute force, but never again. I would rather die than return to that house with you.”

Jonas appeared amused. “Interesting you should say that, my dear.” He extracted a small pistol, pointing it at her. “You are returning with me now.” He pointed it at her and then to a spot next to him. “Come along. I’ve had all I can take with the newspaper stories and the loss of esteem among my business partners from your errant ways. You have much to repent for.”

“Mr. Montgomery, you would never act in such a way,” Matilda stammered. She paled as Jonas waved the gun around.

“I warned you that he was such a man, Matilda, but you wouldn’t listen,” Martin growled. He continued to focus all his attention on Jonas. “You believe you can march in here, on my daughter’s birthday, and ruin our celebration? You are mistaken.” He moved toward Jonas, placing himself between Jonas and Savannah, causing Jonas to back up a few steps. “Leave, now, before I call the police and file charges against you.”

“Hey, Sav. Sorry I’m—” Colin stopped abruptly, his glance moving from Jonas to his uncle to Savannah, and then to Lucas on the settee, partially obscured by Martin. “Is that a gun?” He paled, putting up his hands as Jonas veered the gun toward him for a moment. “Whoa. Calm down, Jonas.”

“Calm down. Calm down? After months of being played a fool by my worthless wife, you’re telling me that I must continue to suffer due to her perfidy? You are to come home now, madam!” he yelled, swinging to face her again, pointing his gun in her direction. Her father moved to block her completely from Jonas’s view.

“Do you have any idea what it’s been like, living with such an infamous wife? Reading the sickening lies in the paper of my purported abuse? You knew how you were to behave, and any aberration warranted punishment.” In his agitation he was nearly panting. He swung the gun in a constant arc from Matilda to Colin, keeping all of them within his sight. “You should have known your role rather than run away to an unnatural woman who doesn’t know her place.

“And then, to read that you are replacing me with a man not even worthy to clean your boots? How could a woman I chose as my wife deign to allow such a man near her?” He shook with fury as he spoke of Jeremy. “I repeat, you are to cease your rebellion and return to me this instant!” In his agitation, he pulled the trigger, shooting Martin. Martin gasped, grabbing at his chest as he crumpled to the floor, a stream of blood seeping onto the carpet.

“Father!” Savannah screamed, unaware in her concern for her father that she was now fully exposed to Jonas. Lucas jumped up, pushing Savannah down onto the floor, covering her as Colin attempted to wrestle the gun from Jonas.

“Let go, you fool!” Colin growled. “You’ve already shot an innocent man. Don’t make it worse than it is.” He and Jonas were in a sort of primitive dance, continuously circling, bending, and bowing as one of them tried to obtain the upper hand.

“Father,” Savannah whimpered, reaching a hand out to him. She grabbed his arm in an attempt to impart some sort of comfort.

“Stay down,” Lucas grunted, grabbing her arm and forcing her to curl in on herself. He pushed her backward, in a futile attempt to push her under the settee.

Another shot rang out, and plaster fell on top of them from the ceiling. Colin shook his head to clear his eyes and attempted to keep Jonas’s arm pointed upward as they continued to scrapple. However, Jonas kicked Colin in his thigh, and he momentarily lost the battle to keep Jonas’s arm raised. The gun lowered, and another shot rang out.

Colin glanced up to see Lucas clutching his side. He continued to fight Jonas for control of the weapon but was unable to wrest it away from him.

“Lucas!” Savannah screamed, pushing him to his uninjured side.

“No, Sav,” Lucas protested weakly, “stay down. Stay protected.”

Colin’s grip on Jonas firmed, and he fought with a lethal intensity. “God dammit, you’re going to hell for what you’re doing to my family.”

Jonas sneered at him and then gasped, releasing his grip on the gun. He fell to his knees, a groan emerging. Colin wrested the gun from his lax fingers and blanched at the blood blooming under Jonas’s right rib cage. Jonas gasped for air, small droplets of blood gurgling forth with each breath.

Colin spun to see Savannah standing, dazed and yet determined, a sharp letter opener in the shape of a dagger in her hand. She gripped it tightly, watching Jonas. “Never threaten me or my family again,” she rasped before dropping it and turning to kneel in front of her father and brother.

“Don’t worry about me, Sav,” Lucas whispered. “It’s just a nick.” He reached a hand out to his father. “Father?” He grasped his hand.

Savannah leaned over her father, pressing her previously pristine ivory shawl onto his shoulder wound. She grimaced as he hissed with the pain. “I’m sorry, Father, but we have to stop the flow of blood.” She remained focused on her father and Lucas, who held first his and then Colin’s handkerchief to the wound in his side, ignoring the chaotic bustle of servants around them. She resisted firm, competent hands easing her aside until she realized it was the doctor.

“Mrs. Montgomery, perhaps you should tend your husband,” he said with gentle reproach.

“Help my father and brother, please,” Savannah said, releasing her hold on her shawl. She rose, grasping Colin’s arm for support as her shock-weakened legs buckled. She continued to ignore Jonas’s prostrate form on the ground. Colin led her to a side table with a pitcher of clean water and helped her wash her hands and wiped away a smudge of blood from her cheek.

“They will be conveyed to the hospital,” the doctor intoned. “The ambulance is here, and the hospital is only a short distance away.”

“Thank God the servants had the presence of mind to call the police and send for the doctor,” Colin murmured as he watched the doctor tend Lucas and his uncle.

“What more can be done for them?” Matilda asked, coming out of her momentary shock.

“Pray infection doesn’t set in,” the doctor said, as he nodded to Colin to help him carry first Martin and then Lucas. When they were both in the ambulance and ready to go to the hospital, the doctor said, “There’s no need to come to the hospital until tomorrow. All that can be done for them will be done.”

When Colin arrived upstairs, he found the police officers circling the room. A sheet had been draped over Jonas.

“Would you care to explain, ma’am, how your husband died?” an officer asked. He held a small book in one hand and a sharpened pencil in the other, while watching her with unveiled fascination.

“He interrupted my birthday celebration with my family, charging in here with a gun. Demanding I return home with him. He shot my father. My cousin, Mr. Sullivan, attempted to free him of his gun, but he shot again, wounding my brother. I …”

Savannah took a deep breath and met Colin’s worried gaze. He nodded to her and smiled gently. “I speared him with the letter opener.” She bit her lip at the pride-infused words. “I meant to hit him in his shoulder, but he stumbled, and it hit him lower.”

“You murdered your husband,” the policeman said. “You’re admitting it.”

“On the Ides of March,” his colleague muttered.

“I was acting in self-defense,” she whispered. “He had already attempted to kill my father and brother and was determined to come for me.”

The policeman read the name she’d supplied and then studied her. “You’re the one who left her husband due to mistreatment. The one the newspapers are full of.”

“Yes.”

The policeman sighed and turned to his partner. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we must bring you in, for further questioning and to ensure you don’t attempt to flee.”

Savannah paled. “Please, not a jail. I’ve done nothing but protect myself.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the policeman repeated as he reached forward and grasped her arm, pulling her firmly toward the hallway. “If you cooperate, I won’t handcuff you.”

Savannah nodded, attempting to forestall tears, and stumbled as she was propelled by the two policemen.

“As for you,” the policeman nodded to Colin and Matilda, “I’d plan to remain in Boston for the foreseeable future. You were witnesses and will need to be questioned further.”

Colin followed them down the stairs to the front door, grim faced as he watched Savannah led into a paddy wagon. “Where are you taking her?”

“The county jail. She’ll have a private cell there.”

Colin bristled at the image of Savannah in a cell. “Expect a vocal contingent of supporters tomorrow morning,” Colin said and attempted to smile reassuringly to Savannah.

Savannah held up a hand, through the bars of the enclosed rear of the wagon. Colin gripped her fingertips, giving them a squeeze for courage. “I’ll see you soon, Sav.”

“Tell Jeremy,” she said through tears. “Tell him …”

“Never fear. You aren’t alone, and we’ll ensure you’re released almost as soon as those doors are closed.” He released her fingers as the wagon rolled away, watching its departure with a burning anger.

CHAPTER 23

AIDAN STOOD IN THE FOYER to the Parker House Hotel, awaiting the arrival of Delia and Zylphia. He practiced again and again what he wanted to say to Zylphia, but, the more he thought of his daughter, the more muddled the words became. Bright light shone from numerous chandeliers onto the rich wood in the foyer. Gold-framed mirrors along the hallway reflected the light, enhancing the warm glow.

“Mr. McLeod,” Delia said from behind him.

He spun to face her, surprise and then delight shining from his eyes. “Mrs. Maidstone, Miss Maidstone,” he murmured. “I am delighted you were able to join me for dinner.” He watched as both Delia and Zylphia paused to stare at the fine furnishings in the lobby. “Shall we?” he asked, ushering them toward the dining room.

Delia and Zylphia removed their coats before following the waiter to the table set in a small nook to one side of the large dining room. Other patrons sat scattered throughout the room, but at discrete distances from each other, allowing privacy.

“Why are we having dinner with you?” Zylphia asked, after she accepted a menu from the waiter. She attempted not to gape at the splendor of the dining room with its marble pillars, coffered ceilings and mahogany paneling.

Aidan grinned at her sharp question. “One reason would be that I know you had a birthday last week, and it seemed a shame not to celebrate it.”

Zylphia frowned as she studied the refined man in the impeccable clothes. “Why should you care about my birthday? No one bothers about someone living in an orphanage turning sixteen.”

Aidan shared a long look with Delia, who nodded subtly, granting her consent. “I knew your mother many years ago. Unfortunately we parted in anger, and I did not know she was to be the mother of my child.”

Zylphia frowned, looking from her mother, who was playing with her silverware, to Aidan, sitting with forced calm across from her. “You are mistaken. My father is dead, sir.”

“I am not dead, Zylphia,” Aidan said fervently. “I only learned of your existence yesterday. And, if you cared to look for it, the family resemblance is impossible to ignore.”

“Where have you been for sixteen years?” Zylphia demanded, leaning forward as her blue eyes flashed their anger.

“First I was away at sea, and then I’ve been in San Francisco,” Aidan said.

“You abandoned my mother, and now you’ve finally returned, thinking your sweet words and money will woo us to want to be with you?” She glared at him. “I’ve never been in need of a father, and I have no need of one now.”

“Zylphia,” Delia said, unable to fight the tremor in her voice, “this is not Aidan’s fault. He never knew he was to be a father.”

“I know you, Mother, and you must have had a good reason.” She turned to Aidan with a fierce scowl. “Did you treat her badly? Have another woman on the side?”

Aidan blanched, while Delia sighed. She glanced at Aidan apologetically. “It’s one of the disadvantages of having been raised in the backrooms of an orphanage. She’s been exposed to the seedier aspects of life.”