Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four (25 page)

“Did you stub anyone’s toes?” he teased.

“Teddy!” She flushed, before waving her hand as though it were of no consequence. “It makes me wonder why I bothered with all those dance lessons.”

He laughed again at her silent admission of her inability to dance with ease. “I’m surprised Owen Hubbard would favor you with your views on suffragism.” At her prolonged silence, he frowned. “Zee?”

“He may have formed the opinion that my views are not as fervent as they once were.”

Teddy’s frown deepened. “How could that have come about? Everyone knows of your beliefs.”

Zylphia paused her pacing to face him. “But that’s just the problem, Teddy. Everyone knows I’m outspoken for universal suffrage. If I tone down my rhetoric, maybe I’ll be able to persuade others to my way of thinking.”

“You actually liked the attention at the ball.”

Zylphia flinched at the accusation and the hint of disappointment in his voice. “It was refreshing to not be the only woman who didn’t dance for an entire evening for a change.” She tilted up her chin as her eyes flashed. “I have as much desire to be liked as anyone else.”

“For God’s sake, Zee, of course I know that. Everyone does, but not at the expense of what you believe. Not at the expense of what drives you.” He watched as she paced his laboratory again. “Is that what has you upset?”

She moved farther from the door.

“That you’ve begun to doubt your beliefs?”

“I have all this nervous energy thrumming through me, and I needed to escape home. My mother is having a special tea this afternoon to raise funds for the orphanage, and I couldn’t handle listening to the simpering obsequiousness needed to lighten the patronesses’ purses.”

She roamed, stopping in front of his desk and flipping through his drawings. She stilled at a few and then continued flipping pages. She slammed the book shut and moved through the room again, her nervous energy preventing her from remaining in one place for long. This time she paused in front of one of his long workbenches.

He smiled, his gaze following her as she picked up and set down one object after another. He winced as she slammed down a piece of metal on one of the tables. “Careful, Zee. Some of those take a long time to piece together. I don’t want my labors wasted due to one of your bad moods.”

“What are you working on?”

“I don’t like talking about my experiments until I’m more certain they’ll turn into something useful. However, I’ll make an exception for you.” He smiled as she traced one of his projects with a finger. “I’m working on perfecting wireless transmission.”

“Wireless transmission? Why would anyone want that?”

“I suspect many will, starting with the military.” He watched as her movements became less frenetic. “What’s wrong, Zee?”

She sank onto a stool, her teal silk skirt covering her legs, her vitality fading. “I loved that feeling of being accepted at the ball, Teddy,” she whispered. “But I hated that they only wanted to be near me because they didn’t know or accept the parts of me that made me who I am. They didn’t know me, and they didn’t care to. I felt a fraud. A popular fraud but a fraud all the same.”

Teddy reached out a large callused hand and stroked it down her forearm before gently squeezing one of her hands tightly gripping her knees.

She relaxed at his touch. “I want to do something with my life. My mother has her life’s work helping the unwanted children of this city. My cousins in Montana are busy preparing their campaign petitioning for the vote there. And here I am, wearing pretty dresses, acting vapid as I enjoy circling a dance floor, doing nothing. I thought things would change after the march in Washington, but that was nearly a year ago! However, nothing’s happened, at least not for me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

The scraping sound of him pulling up another stool to sit near Zylphia momentarily woke the maid. Zylphia and Teddy sat in a narrow aisle, obscured from view by objects littering the tops of the elevated lab tables.

“I have a feeling the struggle for the vote will be an on-going endeavor. Besides, you have your work at the orphanage.”

“That’s my mother’s work, not mine. I should be doing something for the women’s cause, other than tricking the unsuspecting into joining it. I should be doing more than sitting here with you, complaining I’ve yet to make a difference in garnering the vote.”

“Then why don’t you travel to Montana? Be with your cousins and help them?” He smiled gently. “That way you’ll work for a cause you believe in while not having to forswear those beliefs to a group of people who have little interest in altering their long-held prejudices.”

She froze, arrested in place at his suggestion. “My father would never allow me to go alone.”

“I know you’re clever enough to find a way to persuade your father and mother into traveling there with you.”

“Are you that desperate to see me gone?” She sobered when he failed to smile at her weak attempt at humor.

“I’ll never be happy to be separated from you. You’re one of my rare, true friends. But I will know joy to see you with a sense of fulfillment.”

His eyes, usually a brilliant gray, appeared almost silver behind his glasses, as he reached forward to push back a tendril of her raven hair.

* * *

H
e watched
her with the same blind intensity that overcame him when working on his inventions. When she didn’t flinch or move away from his soft caress to her cheek, he leaned forward, kissing her.

His eyes fluttered closed as their lips touched, and his hand moved from her cheek to her nape to hold her still as he kissed her first with featherlight brushings of his lips and then firmer kisses. He leaned forward, his long legs tangling in her skirts, and pulled her closer, one arm wrapping around her and the other moving up to caress her face.

He deepened the kiss, moving his hand down her neck and fluttering it over her collarbone. She gasped, but his roving hand went no farther. He pulled away, filled with passion as he attempted to control his breathing. He dropped his hands, although he was unable to completely break contact as he stroked one of her forearms.

She leaned back, holding fingers to her lips, a bemused expression flitting over her face before masking it. “You kiss differently.”

He stiffened, breaking all contact with her. “What do you mean? And who have you been kissing?” At her hiss, he whispered to not alert the maid to any distress, although it appeared all the distress was on his part. “Zee?”

“You’re not the first man I kissed, and I doubt you’ll be the last. I don’t know why you’re shocked.”

He flushed, gripping his hands together as he hardened his gaze. “And how was it different?”

Zylphia merely smiled, patted him on his shoulder and rose.

He gripped her hands, tugging her back down to sit across from him. “Don’t play a coquette, Zee. That’s not who you are. That’s not who we are.”

“We aren’t anything.” She flushed after her rash words.

He leaned forward, gripping her hands. “Is that why you continually visit me? Why you seek me out at functions? Because you feel nothing for me?” He frowned as he saw panic enter her eyes before she lowered her head. “I know we agreed on friendship, but—”

She held up her hand, stopping his words with her fingers to his lips. “I barely know you, Teddy.”

He had to lean forward to hear her breathed words. He then kissed her fingers before easing back and freeing himself from her touch. “Because you’ve never wanted to look below the surface. That fault lies with you.”

She raised eyes nearly overflowing with tears.

He grimaced, reaching to stroke her cheek.

She leaned into his caress for a moment before her movements became erratic. “You’re right. I need to stop visiting you and seeking you out. I must avoid your company at upcoming functions. There can be no reason for us to see each other.”

She rose, but he prevented her from moving past him by standing and blocking the narrow aisle and her exit from his lab. “Dammit, Zee. I’m not some toy you can come and play with when the mood suits you.”

“I’ve never thought of you in such a way. Please forgive me if I’ve ever given you that impression.” She raised her head, her eyes flashing with defiance, anger and hurt. “This is why I was advised women and men can never be friends.”

When he stiffened at her words, she pushed past him, and he watched her leave with her maid on her heels, the laboratory door slamming on her way out.

Z
ylphia burst
into Parthena’s private sitting room, having charged ahead of the butler in her enthusiasm to share the news. She halted upon hearing the lyrical, lilting music P.T. played on the piano. Zee tilted her head to one side, closing her eyes as she listened more closely to the song. When the music stopped, she clapped and whistled her approval, earning a roll of the eyes from Parthena. “Isn’t that one of my cousin’s songs?”

“It’s a Lucas Russell song, yes,” Parthena said, idly caressing the keyboards. “If he’s ever back in Boston and you don’t introduce me, I will do you bodily harm.”

Zylphia laughed, then laughed even more when she realized Parthena was serious.

“What has you so excited that you barged in here? I know we weren’t planning on meeting today.”

Zylphia held up a periodical, swinging it around in such an agitated manner there was no hope of reading it. “Alice has broken with NAWSA!”

“Oh my,” Parthena breathed, turning away from the piano keys and reaching forward to grab the
Woman’s Journal
.

“What will this mean for the movement?” Zylphia frowned. “I fear we’ll lose momentum again, as we did with the split in 1869.”

“Or it could be that Alice knows what she is doing and isn’t willing to compromise on her vision of how to proceed.”

“I think Carrie Chapman Catt and Anna Howard Shaw couldn’t handle the fact that Alice was as popular—”

“Or more.”

“—than they were. And I hate that we’ll be forced to choose sides when we all desire the same thing, the enfranchisement of women.” Zylphia grabbed the magazine back to stare at the small article, hidden on page six.

“I hate to think what the press will make of this,” Parthena said with a long sigh, moving to join Zylphia on the settee near the roaring fire.

“They’ve never been positive before, so I don’t know why we should concern ourselves now.” The two friends shared a long look before sharing a smile.

“If you had to choose a side to support, whose would it be?” Parthena asked.

“Alice Paul’s,” Zylphia said without a moment’s worth of hesitation. “I believe she has a true plan on how to succeed.”

“She is radical. And she believes in hunger strikes.”

Zylphia shivered. “I can’t imagine being force-fed, like I’ve read about the suffragettes suffering in England. I’m certain it won’t come to that here.”

“I imagine force-feeding is better than starvation,” Parthena mused. “However, I agree with you. Anna’s vision of winning the vote state by state would take us into the twenty-first century to accomplish.”

“What will we tell our parents when we join the more radical aspect of the suffragist movement?”

“I doubt your parents will be all that surprised. I’m certain your father would help fund it for you,” Parthena said with a touch of envy in her voice. “My father will attempt to gag me as he convinces Mr. Wheeler to marry me.”

Zylphia snickered at the vision of her friend married to Mr. Wheeler. “You’d murder each other within a month. He still hasn’t forgiven you for the fountain incident last month.”

“That’s just one of many unfortunate episodes we’ve suffered together,” Parthena said. “And, yes, without a doubt, one of us wouldn’t make the one-month anniversary.” Parthena shuddered at the prospect. “We must keep my interest in Alice quiet lest I suffer a fate worse than death.”

“I think we should speak with Sophie. She always seems to know what to do.” Zylphia frowned. “Although I think she’s still disappointed in me from last summer. I can only imagine what she’ll think when she learns of my recent actions.”

“Sophronia is three-quarters bluster. Once she realizes you’ve come to believe as she does, she’ll forgive you.”

“How do you know Sophie so well?” Zylphia played with a tassel on a pillow.

“My uncle married one of her daughters.”

Zylphia gaped at her. “I never knew you were related. Why didn’t she take you under her wing?”

“She knew my father would never countenance it. He can barely tolerate her presence in a ballroom filled with two hundred other guests. He’d never have allowed me to spend time with her alone. He has yet to realize she was in Newport with us last summer.” She shared an amused smile with Zylphia. “Besides, she came to fear I’d always be glued to a piano stool.”

“You are talented.” Zylphia’s gaze became distant. “With two groups vying for funding, I’m sure Alice will need all the support she can obtain. Perhaps you could have a recital that would raise funds.”

“Zee, you speak utter nonsense. My father would never agree to me playing in public, never mind for money.” She raised an eyebrow as she widened her eyes dramatically at the thought. “It simply would not be borne for a Tyler to be seen asking for money.”

Zylphia waved away her comment. “We need to brainstorm, and I think Sophie’s the one to help us.”

* * *

Z
ylphia
, Rowena and Parthena sat in Sophie’s rear sitting room overlooking her neighbor’s gardens, with her desk and its small vase of hothouse flowers sitting in front of the windows. A rocking chair and a lady’s chair were angled to the side of the fireplace where a fire roared, while more heat pumped from the vents in the floor. Zylphia sat upright on the settee as the
thunk
ing of a cane heralded Sophie’s arrival.

“It’s about time you paid me a visit,” Sophie barked as she entered the room. She waved to the maid on her heels to place the tray on the table before the settee and then motioned for her to leave. The door clicked shut behind the maid as Sophie settled in the armchair near the fireplace. “Forgive me for not entertaining you in my formal parlor. I’m having it redecorated, and it is turning into a monumental task.”

“I’ve always liked this room,” Parthena said.

“I should think so. It’s where you always came to escape your parents, the few times you were forced to call on me.” She nodded to Zylphia. “I see you continue to perpetuate the folly you’re no longer interested in the movement.”

“Sophie, it was Florence’s idea,” Zylphia said.

“It’s about time you had ideas of your own. First it was that peabrained suggestion by Alva. Now Flo’s notion to act as though you’re no longer a suffragist. I nearly came to blows with Mr. Hubbard’s mother when she proclaimed your change of heart and newfound acceptability.” She glared at Zylphia. “I did not appreciate learning I was in the wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Sophie.”

“As you should be. Having popularity when based on a falsehood is a waste of energy, time and emotion.” She patted Zee on her knee. “If they don’t like you for who you truly are, then they aren’t worth knowing, Zee.” She turned her fierce aquamarine eyes to the other women present. “It’s the same for you two.”

“Sophie, we’re here because we want to know how we could help Alice. We read a few days ago how she broke with NAWSA.”

“Anyone with sense knew that break was coming. Anna and Carrie could not abide her popularity or her unwillingness to bow to their model of garnering the vote.”

“They perceive that their notion is the superior notion, not realizing that there could be more than one way to lead toward full enfranchisement,” Rowena said.

“Well said,” Sophie agreed with a nod. She took a sip of tea and then tapped a fingernail against the neck of her cane. “As you can imagine, Alice will need money. She’ll need women willing to work with her and follow her instructions.”

“Would we need to move to Washington, DC?” Zylphia asked.

“Not yet. Today I received a letter from Alice, and she did not mention any need for more women in Washington.”

“I didn’t know you were that close to her,” Parthena said.

“I like to think I’ll remain open to all possibilities. I plan to attend the NAWSA events in Boston, but I also will remain abreast of Alice’s plans in Washington.”

“I doubt that would make you popular with Anna or Carrie,” Parthena said with a smirk.

“I doubt it would, which is why I hope it won’t be bandied about.” Sophie looked at Zee. “I have an idea for you, Zee, to become more involved in the struggle. However, I’m uncertain yet as to what it will entail. I’ll keep you informed. For now I suggest you limit your time with that Hubbard boy.”

“What about Mr. Goff?” Rowena asked.

Sophie’s eyes sparkled as Zylphia flushed. “You’ve yet to discover all there is to know about him. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

* * *

Z
ylphia sat
in her office in the orphanage, one she also shared with her mother, Delia. Now that Delia’s role was mainly to find benefactors among Aiden’s contacts, Delia had vacated the small, yet comfortable, office and rooms that had been their home for years. This tiny space was like a converted closet, with no windows and a bare lightbulb dangling from the ceiling to illuminate the sparse space.

Zylphia visited the orphanage a few times a week at the request of the new matron to review the books and to boost the morale of some of the younger residents. Although she and her mother had moved eleven years ago into the mansion her father had bought, the orphanage had been her home for the first sixteen years of her life.

“I wondered if I’d find you here,” Theodore said, leaning against the doorjamb.

Zylphia started, her gaze shifting to the doorway filled by him. She frowned before attempting a weak smile.

“May I come in?” His gray eyes showed his hesitation, and he fidgeted with his hat.

“Yes, although I don’t know where you’ll go.” She smiled as she looked around the cramped office.

He entered, stooping under the lintel, cleared off a chair of its pile of papers and deposited them on the floor and then sat in front of her desk. “How do you get behind the desk?”

Zylphia flushed. “I crawl over it.”

He chuckled. “I’d like to see that.”

“Generally I keep the door shut so no one witnesses my unladylike behavior, but today the room felt too small.”

He glanced around the narrow room painted a stark white, lit harshly by one lightbulb. The desk Zylphia sat behind was the width of the room.

“I have to remember to clear the desk first, or I’ll knock everything to the floor.” They shared a rueful smile.

“Why don’t you have the desk sideways?” He seemed to studied the dimensions of the room as he asked his question.

“We tried that, but it was a little tight with the desk and the chair. When my mother is here, a lot of people are coming and going, and she didn’t like always looking to the side. She prefers to see people head-on.”

“Do you mean your mother crawls over the desk too?”

“Yes.” Zylphia giggled. “She claims it keeps her young.” She sobered again.

“I thought you said you hated math,” Teddy said, looking at the ledger in front of Zee.

“I didn’t like the advanced classes I took. Basic math is easy.” Zee shrugged. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior the last time, when I saw you a month ago.” His gaze never left hers. “I’d hoped to see you before now, but I realize you are quite adept at avoiding those you don’t wish to see.” He watched her curiously as she flushed.

“Apologize? It was of no consequence.” She cleared her throat and tapped her pen on the desk.

“Exactly. Because it was of no consequence to you, I should never have acted in such a way. My apologies.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“I think there is, on both our parts.” When she remained mutinously quiet, her expression imploring him to remain silent, he closed his eyes before holding out his hand, as though pleading with her to understand. “Zylphia, I never meant to overstep the boundaries of propriety. Of those of friendship. To inaccurately read your sentiments toward me.” His gaze trailed over her raven hair in a perfect bun, her cream-colored blouse perfectly starched. “You for …”

“For becoming as bristly as a hedgehog,” Zylphia whispered.

He nodded. “Why won’t you let anyone close, Zee?”

She flinched at his question.

“Why do you keep everyone at arm’s length? Even your parents?”

She swallowed. “I’m capable on my own.”

He stifled a laugh. “You misinterpreted my words. Let me clarify. You’re the most independent, capable woman I’ve ever met. How could you doubt yourself?”