Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four (24 page)

He laughed. “She just became engaged to Mr. Young yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Yes, although don’t bandy it about. A large notice is to be in the papers tomorrow. I believe they’re hoping for a big wedding in Newport this summer.”

“How wonderful for her. I wish them very happy.” Zylphia smiled in the woman’s direction, earning a confused glower from the woman and her friends.

“They’re terrified you’ll approach them and turn them into radicals.”

“Simply because I believe women deserve the vote, as much as any man, does not mean I’m a radical.” Zylphia then remembered Florence’s advice to temper her words and to try a different tact.

“Believing that your beliefs have as much merit as a man’s is radical though, Miss McLeod.”

She flushed, this time with irritation, at the gentle censure she heard in his tone. “It’s not as though it’s a disease. They believe that merely being in my presence gives them incurable notions. Heaven forbid they had a thought of their own one day.” Rather than the usual chuckle she was used to from Teddy, she sensed Mr. Hubbard stiffen before feigning a smile.

“You are rather forceful in what you believe.” He nodded at an acquaintance as the dance ended. “Men like to know there will be some sort of order in their home and that their word is to be followed. And plenty of women are still fond of the world as it is.”

“I suppose what you say has merit,” Zylphia said as she attempted to heed Florence’s advice. “A soothing home environment is conducive to the raising of children.” She shook her head to avoid laughing out loud at speaking that bit of nonsense she’d read in a lady’s magazine a few weeks ago. She imagined her disparate family’s boisterous homes and the happy, healthy children growing in them.

“Miss McLeod,” Owen said in his most charming voice. “I’m pleased to note you are seeing sense and that there’s no need to argue. It’s refreshing to hear you realize we all desire the same thing.”

“And what would that be?”

“A secure home. A secure future.”

Zylphia looked toward the dance floor, her stance more rigid even though she feigned ease. She gasped as he gripped her hand, placed her cup of punch on a side table and towed her toward the floor for a waltz. “Mr. Hubbard, this is not a good idea. I can’t dance the waltz with any grace.” She stumbled as he came to a halt, his hand holding hers. She belatedly placed her other hand on his shoulder, while she tried not to fidget at his hand on her waist, all the while stilling her panic.

“I’m certain you’re merely being modest. You don’t have nearly the opportunity you should to dance.” He swung her into motion, nearly toppling over as she misstepped and tangled her feet in his.

“I beg your pardon,” Zylphia gasped as they righted themselves, inches away from careening into a potted plant. “I warned you that I’ve never mastered the waltz.”

Rather than glower at her, a smile flirted with his lips, and he whispered, “One, two, three,” as he twirled her around the periphery of the ballroom. Zylphia relaxed and was soon able to concentrate on something other than the placement of her feet.

“Why did you want to dance with me?” she asked. She stifled a squeak as he pulled her closer than was proper. She met his intense stare, his blue-green eyes devoid of their customary merriment, instead filled with a singular focus and warmth.

“I couldn’t imagine one of the prettiest girls here not dancing.” He smiled as they now twirled effortlessly. “I know you are trying to assuage my fears as to your views, and I can hope that you will come to truly recognize the merit to my beliefs. However, I fail to see why any difference in our beliefs should be an impediment to our … friendship.”

“Mr. Hubbard …”

“You know I’m a stodgy man of business, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change.” His eyes held a silent entreaty. “I realize the world is changing. I understand there is unjustness. I might not want the world to alter in as radical a fashion as you, but I recognize that the world we live in will not remain as it is. Even as we waltz around a grand room, I understand that.”

Zylphia’s eyes glowed with pleasure at his words. She gripped his shoulder more tightly, her last thought on her awkward feet.

“I hope, as my friend, you’ll help me to see other ways of envisioning this world.”

She blushed as he twirled them to a stop, and he ran a finger quickly over her cheek. She gave a small curtsy as he bowed to her and offered his arm, walking her to the side of the ballroom.

He nodded to a passing servant, and two coupe glasses were delivered. “Come on. It’s not like you to be silent,” he coaxed as he took a sip of his drink.

“I find I don’t know what to say.” She studied him a moment as she took a sip of the drink, her nose crinkling as she realized it was champagne. “I would like for you to understand the difficulties faced by those less fortunate.” She held back from expounding on the merits of universal suffrage.

“But you fear that one, such as me, cannot alter my way of thinking.” His wry smile evoked an embarrassed nod of agreement.

“I fear that it’s not you who’ll be coaxed into changing, Mr. Hubbard. I like myself, and my beliefs, as they are.” She bit her lip, this time with no intent to hide a secret smile. She sighed at her rash tongue, at the truth she’d inadvertently spoken about her intractable beliefs. They set their glasses on a passing servant’s tray and backed farther away from the dance floor. They now stood in a small alcove, buffeted on three sides by palm fronds.

“Give me a chance, Zylphia,” he whispered, her eyes flaring with surprise as he used her first name. “I believe you’ve come to accept the only sort of man you could entice is Mr. Goff. We both know you could do better.”

She stiffened at his criticism of Teddy. “Please do not speak poorly of him. He’s a friend who does not warrant such ridicule.”

“Forgive me,” he said with apparent contrition. “I merely wanted you to know that there are others who admire you.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

He glanced around, and they were largely ignored by the others. He grasped her hand and pulled her out a side door to the small glass conservatory. Although heated, the early winter’s cold seeped in through the sealed windows. The December chill caused her to shiver in her dress. He pulled off his jacket and slung it over her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked, jerking away from him to return to the overheated, crowded ballroom.

“I don’t know how else to have any time with you. You seem to either always be with your mother or your friends. How else could we be alone?” he asked, maintaining a gentle hand on her forearm.

At any moment she could have broken away from him, but she remained in the conservatory with him. For a fleeting second, she thought of her stolen interludes with Teddy, only returning to the present moment when Owen cupped her cheeks.

He frowned for a moment before a warmth lit his eyes when she focused on him again. One hand reached to cup the back of her head, and he leaned forward, kissing her forcefully.

She leaned into him, although she maintained her hands at her sides. When he dropped the hand from her cheek to her shoulder and moved lower, she stiffened and pushed him away. She held a hand to her lips, panting as she backed up with startled blue eyes.

“This is why I think we’ll suit. You’ve a passion in you,” he said with a satisfied smile. “A passion for life. For all things.”

“I don’t want a husband.” She blushed at her rash words. “That didn’t come out right.”

His eyes flared with interest, and she backed up a step. “I want nothing illicit,” she whispered.

“I want you to share your passion with me, Zylphia,” he whispered. He stroked a finger over her cheek, tracing it down her neck to her collarbone.

She shivered before backing up another step. “What I have is a passion for things you’ll never appreciate.” She shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to him. She shivered once before sidling into the ballroom, her momentary absence unnoticed.

“
W
hat I would
like to know,” Parthena said four days after the ball at the Greaves’ house, “is why Mr. Hubbard danced with you.”

The three young women sat in the large glass conservatory at the back of the former Montgomery mansion, now the McLeod mansion, where Zylphia lived with her parents. The room was as warm as a summer’s day from the heat generated by the potbellied stove and the heating vents hidden in the floor. Throughout the room, ferns sprouted from pots and lent a tropical feel on a dreary mid-December day.

Rowena picked through a pile of cookies and scones, searching for the least-burnt option. She finally decided on one and raised it, shaking it at Zylphia. “What I want to know is what happened in their small conservatory to cause you to look so flustered?”

“Ro!” Zee hissed as her eyes flared. She rose and flipped the lock on the glass-paneled door. She settled on a mint-green-cushioned wicker chair, tucking one foot underneath her. At her friends’ expectant gazes, she flung herself backward with a sigh of exasperation.

“If a Hubbard were to show you interest, that would be quite a coup,” Parthena said, shaking her head no as Rowena held up the plate of burnt cookies and scones.

“He said he wants a friendship with me. Wanted to get to know me better.”

“A Hubbard would never approve of your beliefs,” Rowena said, taking a sip of tea to wash down the dry scone.

Zylphia flushed. “I had visited my cousin Florence recently, and we discussed my lack of success in encouraging those I’d met at the balls and in society to join the cause. Florence suggested that I temper my arguments and become friends with people first before persuading them to my way of thinking.”

“Does this mean he believes you are no longer a suffragist?” Parthena asked with wide eyes.

“No, but I fear the impression I gave was that my beliefs weren’t as strong as I had portrayed them to be. He said he wanted me to help him learn about a new way of envisioning the world,” Zylphia said as she curled into a more comfortable position on her chair.

“A new way of envisioning …” Rowena sputtered. “Please tell me that you set him straight that the only vision he needs is one where his wife has as much to say as he does.”

“I didn’t,” Zylphia whispered. “He seemed to like me better. And he kissed me.”

Rowena shared a quick glance with Parthena. “And?”

At Zylphia’s prolonged silence, Rowena said, “What’s bothering you, Zee?”

“He acted as though he had every right to drag me to another room. Grab me and kiss me.”

“Did you not enjoy it?” Parthena asked.

“It … he kisses fine, but I wanted some thought, some consideration for me.” She closed her eyes as she envisioned the scene in the cold conservatory. She flushed as she recalled her embrace with Owen. “I enjoyed his kiss. And he didn’t hold me against my will. But there was no tenderness, nothing that made me feel like I was special to him.”

“If he shows you such little consideration now, it will only become worse if you encourage him.” Rowena reached over and stroked a hand down Zylphia’s arm.

“I know. It’s as though he believes I’m a weak-willed woman because I’m no longer fervently espousing my beliefs. As though I could easily be manipulated.” Zylphia shuddered. “I think he wasn’t entirely certain of my change of heart because he spoke of his awareness that the world constantly transforms itself and that he too could change.”

“Thus, making it seem as though he’s interested in change for himself, when he truly wants you to change. As he hopes you have already.” Rowena tapped the saucer with such force that Zylphia glanced at the china to see if it were chipped.

“For you to give up your beliefs,” Parthena said with a near growl.

“The entire time that I didn’t say what I truly believed, I felt sick to my stomach.” Zylphia looked at her friends mournfully. “I felt like I’d betrayed myself.”

Both Rowena and Parthena reached out to Zylphia. “You didn’t permanently betray yourself,” Rowena said with a glower. “You followed your cousin’s erroneous advice. Now you know that’s not the correct action.”

“It made me feel ill, but, in a way, it worked. He’d never said more than a few sentences to me before tonight. He’d never danced with me again since Newport.” Zylphia held a hand to her head. “I’m so confused.”

“Do you want to proceed through life feeling a fraud? Living a lie to the point you forget what you truly believe?” Parthena asked.

“Of course not,” Zylphia sputtered.

Rowena asked, “What I want to know is why are you confused? It seems like you know exactly what you should do in the future.”

Zylphia blushed. After exhaling a deep breath, she raised her eyes to meet her friends’ curious gazes. “I liked the attention. I enjoyed no longer being the woman scorned, exiled to the side of the dance floor, instead someone worthy of notice.”

Parthena frowned. “Well, you now know the cost of such attention.”

Zylphia nodded.

“Did you agree to see him again?” Rowena asked.

“I was flustered after I left him in the conservatory. When we were leaving, he spoke with my mother as we collected our wraps. We’re to go to the New Year’s Ball in a few weeks at your house,” Zylphia said with a nod to Parthena.

“Ugh, that infernal ball. It’s all my mother will talk about. She’s already concocting some necessity for me to dance with that horrid Mr. Wheeler.” Parthena shuddered at the thought.

“It should be entertaining to watch,” Zylphia said, hiding a giggle.

“I hope your Mr. Goff doesn’t attend. He’s such a boor.” Rowena settled into her chair, the burnt cookies and scones abandoned while she held her teacup.

“There is much you don’t understand about him,” Zylphia said.

“So you say, but we never see it. Whenever he’s out, he’s as a petulant child. Grumpy and incommunicative.” Parthena gave Zylphia a sly smile. “Unless he’s with you.”

“Stop it. He’s just a friend.” She sobered. “That’s all he can be.”

Rowena watched her intently. “Why? Did something happen between the two of you that you didn’t share with us?”

“You know I have no desire to marry.” She absently traced a piece of wicker with her finger.

“What would that have to do with the reclusive Theodore Goff?” Parthena asked. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to marry him.” She gave a theatrical shudder, provoking a snicker from Rowena.

“Stop speaking so poorly of him,” Zylphia snapped. “He’s a brilliant scientist, and I …”

“Oh my,” Rowena murmured. “You’re interested in Teddy?” She gaped at Zylphia. “Socially awkward, hides in his lab, reclusive
Teddy
?”

“I don’t know! One moment all I can think about is the movement and how I’ll help garner the vote for women. The next, all I can think about is my time with Teddy.” She massaged her temples as she leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “If I thought I knew one thing, it was that I had no interest in marriage and a family of my own until women earned the right to vote. Until I earned the right to my own voice.”

“You’ve always had the right to your own voice, Zee. And of your opinion,” Parthena said.

“Not by the law. The minute I marry, I hate the fact that I become nothing more than an extension of my husband. I want to count too.” Zylphia sighed. “I never expected entering society would prove to be so confusing.”

Parthena and Rowena laughed. “You forget that you come from a very wealthy family. Of course you’d be of some interest to the men.” Parthena tapped her fingers on her chair’s arm as though she were playing a piano. “What you can’t forget is that Owen Hubbard knows you are wealthy and will most likely want that wealth for himself.”

Zylphia sighed. “I wonder if any of these men would still want me if they realized I come with no dowry?”

Parthena choked on the bite of cookie she had finally chosen as Rowena nearly dropped her cup and saucer before recovering and setting it on a nearby glass-topped table. “What?”

“I thought you both had stated that having dowries was antiquated and offensive,” Zylphia said with a sparkle in her deep blue eyes. At their persistent silence, she laughed. “I have no dowry. When I marry, I go with nothing. That’s what my father has told me.”

“He must be joking,” Parthena said.

“Why? He believes it is the only way to ensure that a man wants me and not my father’s influence or his money.”

Rowena sat back in her chair, a dazed expression on her face. “It’s a wicked thing to do. Dangle you in front of society, with the expectation of wealth should one of them marry you, and then not offer anything.” She shook her head.

“Some will say your father is ashamed of you and, thus, refuses to dower you,” Parthena said.

“Those who know him will know that’s complete nonsense.”

“Careful not to tell anyone else this, Zee. You know how cruel people can be,” Rowena said as Parthena nodded her agreement.

“I won’t. Besides, I know if I should ever marry, my father will be extraordinarily generous. He simply doesn’t want the promise of wealth to be the sole reason a man would wish to align himself with me.”

Rowena studied Zylphia a moment before glancing around the elaborate conservatory. “It seems he’s afraid of the past repeating itself.”

Zylphia thought of her cousin Savannah and the stories she had heard about Savannah’s first marriage to Jonas Montgomery as she glanced around a room that had once been theirs. Only after the wedding had Savannah realized he’d married her for the generous dowry promised by her grandparents. Another of Savannah’s cousins, Clarissa, had barely evaded a similar fate. “Exactly.” She smiled at her friends. “Besides, I don’t know why we’re worried about marriage when we’ve our pact.”

Rowena shook her head. “You know as well as I do that the pact was foolish. We’ll have to marry before women are granted the vote.”

Parthena nodded her agreement to Rowena’s words.

“I refuse to live as a pauper while my father moans about the expense of having me under his roof. His threats are becoming more frequent.” Parthena shuddered.

Rowena smiled gently at Zylphia who appeared crestfallen. “You know it was juvenile, Zee. It had no basis to it other than a momentary exuberance for a preposterous idea.”

Zylphia sighed. “If I’m honest, I can say I agree. I liked having a ready excuse to have at hand when my family discussed the many potential suitors I would meet at the balls.”

“Well, unlike my family, yours wants to see you happy,” Parthena said. “They’d never threaten you with penury.”

“No, but I sometimes think they doubt my ability to know my own dreams,” Zylphia said.

“I think they refuse to allow you to limit yourself,” Rowena said with a smile. “When you think about it, that’s a truly wonderful thing.”

* * *

“
W
hat brings you by
?” Teddy asked as he watched Zylphia wander his laboratory. He raised an eyebrow at her maid dozing in a chair by the door.

Zylphia took note of his focus. “My mother insisted I not come alone. She doesn’t want me running as freely around the city as I like.” She waved him to sit while she roamed about. “Ever since her return in November, she’s been much more concerned about propriety. She doesn’t understand it’s January 1914. Times are changing.”

“For your mother, I imagine times are changing too rapidly.” He smiled with sardonic humor. “I know my mother still imagines she lives in 1890 and attempts to behave in the same manner. Did you enjoy the New Year’s Eve party?”

“As you can imagine, it was filled to the brim with the most important members of Boston society. Miss Tyler’s mother wouldn’t have it any other way.” She glared at him. “Although you weren’t there.”

“I’ve never been particularly fond of New Year’s. Seems an arbitrary thing to celebrate.” He shared an amused smile with Zylphia. “I’d rather we persisted in celebrating the solstices.”

Zylphia couldn’t help but snicker. “You’re already enough of an oddity, no need to espouse any more odd notions.” Her mouth firmed as she thought of the party. “You didn’t miss much, although an enormous fountain was in the center of one of the large rooms off the ballroom, and Mr. Wheeler tripped and fell into it.”

Teddy’s smile broadened. “I’m sure there’s more to the story than that.”

Zylphia giggled and clapped her hands together. “You know how P.T.—Miss Tyler—and he can’t bear to be in the same room? Well, her mother somehow forced him to waltz with her. She attempted to walk away from him on the dance floor, but he clung to her like a burr, and they argued while she steered him from the floor. I don’t know what they were talking about, but I heard her call him ‘a conceited, misinformed buffoon,’ and then she pushed him, and he went flying. Rather than help him, everyone jumped out of the way, and he landed with a splash in the fountain, the goddess on top pouring water on his head.”

Teddy laughed. “I wish I’d been there solely for that.” He watched her as she appeared lost in memories. “Did you dance, Zee?”

“Yes, many times. Mr. Hubbard introduced me to a few of his friends, and I had a wonderful evening.”