Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 (32 page)

I felt as much as heard Gabriel sigh. “I just wish Amelia would say that as plainly to him as you just did to me. It’s tearing him apart that she doubts him.”

“She’s never said …” I sputtered to a stop, unable to voice the words.

“Not in so many words, but her actions show her doubt. She barely speaks to him as he lies in that bed, bored and in pain, day after day. She has Nicholas or one of us bring him his meals. She only visits him to change his bandages. I know we’re here to act as chaperones, but that doesn’t mean she can’t have any contact with him.”

“I’ll talk with her.”

“No, Rissa. That’s the last thing I want you to do. Because then Seb would find out we’d meddled, and he’d be upset. He wants Amelia to determine what she wants without any influence from us.”

“What can we do for them?”

“Nothing more than be here to stem any further gossip surrounding them. Sleeping on this lumpy bed is penance enough.” He kissed the top of my head as I grumbled. “We can’t make everything better for everyone, darling. But we can give them the chance to work it out on their own.”

***

AMELIA CRACKED OPEN Sebastian’s door and crept inside, her stockinged feet sliding silently on the wooden floor. His chest rose and fell in the soft cadence of sleep. She moved to the chair facing him and perched on its edge.

Her eyes roved over his face in an attempt to discern if he were improving. She raised a shaking hand and held it over his brow, a few inches from his skin, tracing the shape of his face in the air but never touching him. A deep, yearning sigh escaped, and she moved to rise, but she gasped as Sebastian reached forward and caught her hand.

Pain-filled brown eyes met her startled hazel ones. “Why won’t you speak with me?” he rasped. “Every night you visit. Every night you do the same thing. And you never speak with me.”

Amelia wriggled her wrist until he released her hand. She raised it, caressing his russet-colored hair and tracing her fingertips down his stubbled cheek until her hand cupped his face. “I hope, every night, that you’ll be awake. But you always seem to be asleep.” She dug the tips of her fingers into the side of his face as he turned his head into her hand.

“Why won’t you visit me during the day? You send Nicholas to impart the news, as though he were the town crier, when all I crave is your company.”

Amelia grimaced at the recrimination she heard in his voice. “I don’t want there to be more gossip than there already is. I created quite a stir by insisting you remain here under my care. I’d hate for you to suffer due to my acting rashly.”

He moved his face so as to kiss her palm. “You acted in such a manner to care for me. I’ll never regret a bit of gossip.” He raised worried eyes to her. “Gossip is the least of my worries.”

“Sebastian.” She leaned forward until she slipped off the chair and knelt beside his bed, her face even with his on the mattress. “I know you are innocent. We’ll find some way to prove it.”

A tenseness Amelia hadn’t even realized had pervaded him eased at her words.

“Thank you.” After a moment where they stared into each other’s eyes, he whispered, “There is no possible way to show my innocence. I’ve no reputation past what Mr. Bouchard is willing to say, nothing to recommend me for another job.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ve nothing to offer you now. Forgive me, Amelia?”

She sniffled and chuckled humorlessly. “For what? For attempting to save another’s life? For risking your own?” She nodded. “Yes, you should ask my forgiveness for that for, if you’d died, I don’t know if I would have recovered.”

She stroked his cheek. “Sebastian, remember, Liam was taken from me cruelly.” She reached under the high neckline of her dress and pulled out a necklace. On it an oblong metal object hung. He reached forward and traced it, before looking at her with blatant curiosity.

“This was Liam’s tag. When he didn’t come out of the mine that day, they knew he remained trapped inside. When they realized he’d died, they gave it to me, and I’ve worn it, every day since I buried him, next to my heart.” She blinked away tears. “If you had died, I would have had no right to mourn you. No right to such a talisman.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow, the intensity of his expression forestalling any prevarication on her part.

“You were spared, and I daily give thanks for that. I don’t know what will happen, but I will never cease being thankful you are a part of my life,” Amelia whispered. “I will be forever grateful I don’t need to fashion another talisman to wear next to my heart.”

“I hope you continue to feel that way,” Sebastian whispered, as he turned his face to kiss her palm again. “There are things you don’t know about me. Things that others will be only too happy to repeat now that I’m injured and unable to defend myself.”

“None of it matters to me.”

“It does to me, because there are always shades of truth to it.” Sebastian sighed deeply. “I was married before, Amelia. I had a wife who became dissatisfied with this life and ran away.”

“Why?”

“Said she never imagined living as a nobody, married to a nobody in a nothing town. Expected more from her life.” His jaw hardened. “There are those who will say I was cruel to her. Treated her in such a manner as to force her away.”

“Did you?” Amelia asked.

“We yelled at each other a lot. Especially at the end. When I knew she was unhappy and I couldn’t figure out how to make her so.”

“No one can make you happy, Sebastian. That comes from within.”

“Well, they sure can make you miserable,” he said wryly. “I want you to understand that I never raised a hand to her. Never threatened her in any way. But I did raise my voice to her.”

“Do you think Liam and I never fought? That we had a blissful understanding about everything? We argued fiercely at times, but there was always enough caring to bridge the distance of our misunderstandings.”

“Thank you, Amelia.” At her questioning look, he said, “For understanding. For considering me worthy of a talisman.” A long pause followed as he stared into her hazel eyes. “For caring for me.”

“That’s the easy part,” she murmured, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. She smiled, caressed his face one more time and rose, slipping out of the room as silently as she had entered it.

CHAPTER 29

ALMOST TWO WEEKS after moving into Aidan’s house, I sat in Aidan’s study, reading letters from Boston. There were two windows in the office at the front of the house and another to the side, allowing a generous amount of light in every day. Whitewashed walls made the room seem even brighter, and a few paintings of San Francisco hung on the walls. Aidan’s desk sat in front of the two windows with a pair of comfortable leather chairs in front of them. A leather ottoman was shared between both chairs, and I propped my feet on it as I curled up to read my letters.

I had taken to spending a few hours each day reading and sending letters, as Amelia had no need of any help in the kitchen, and I had no desire to hold a conversation with myself as she continued to brood. A quick glance outside to the fading afternoon light indicated Gabriel would soon arrive to keep me company before dinner. Aidan’s study had become our private retreat, and I relished the time we shared discussing our days or sitting in peaceful harmony, holding hands.

I looked toward the door as a gentle knock sounded. Amelia entered, a small yellow envelope in her hand “This was just delivered for you.”

“Thank you.” I reached forward, tracing my name scrawled in an unknown hand on the front. Amelia nodded and closed the door with a quiet click. I scanned the few words, rereading them twice in my confusion.

Unknowingly I let out a screech and fell out of my chair. I knelt on the floor of Aidan’s study, rocking in place. I opened the telegram again, rereading the words but still disbelieving them. How could they be true? I wrapped my arms more tightly around myself in the belief that I could in some way hold myself together. And yet nothing worked. I rocked and rocked and rocked to the point I tipped over onto my side, unable to restrain a keening wail.

“Shh, darling, don’t carry on so,” Gabriel crooned as he entered the room and knelt beside me, caressing my back. He leaned over, kissing my exposed forehead, my nape. When he realized I was lost to my grief, he gently pulled me toward him as he leaned against the shut door. I came to rest on his lap, his arms and legs sheltering me, my face resting on his chest.

All the while, he continued to croon soothing sounds in my ear. The soft, repetitive motion of his hand over my scalp and upper back acted as a balm, and my sobs quieted. “Ah, darling, I hate to see you so sad,” Gabriel murmured, kissing my head. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“My da, he’s dead.” My throat ached from all the crying.

I felt him stiffen and then relax. “How, darling?”

“A heart seizure. At the forge.” My stuttering words were barely comprehensible, but Gabriel managed to understand.

“Oh, darling, I am so sorry.” Another kiss to my forehead before he pushed me up to meet his gaze. He caressed my cheeks, rubbing away the tears that continued to fall. “When is the funeral?”

“Soon,” I sobbed, fresh convulsions racking me as tears poured from my eyes. “I must be there, Gabe. I have to.”

“Who wrote you, darling?” Gabriel kissed my head, swaying a bit from side to side in an attempt to soothe me.

“Aunt Betsy sent a telegram. She was afraid we wouldn’t be informed in a timely manner. Says she’ll try to postpone the funeral as long as possible.” I met Gabriel’s gaze with determination. “I know you’ve been frustrated due to our need to be here for Sebastian and Amelia and having to postpone our trip away. I know we don’t have much saved, but I need to return to Boston. I need to be there.”

He studied me for a long moment, a sigh escaping him as he looked deep into my eyes. “I understand, my darling. There’s no better use for our savings than to ensure you are at your father’s funeral.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.” I leaned against him, all my strength spent. “I still have most of the money Aunt Betsy gave me when I traveled here.”

“I can only imagine how pleased she would be to know that it would help ensure you could travel home for your father’s funeral.”

“Not home,” I whispered. I shook as the shock of the news became real. “I hate that the last conversations I had with my da were either in anger or me misleading him.” I shuddered in a breath. “I hope he knows how much I loved him.”

“He knew, darling. No father loved a daughter more than he loved you. He was just misguided by that awful woman.”

“Oh, Gabe! I knew I might never see him again. But to know there’s no chance now, no hope …”

He held me closer, his big palm against the crown of my head. “I know, Clarissa. And nothing will ever take away this pain.”

I pushed away, bracing my forearms on his chest. I reached up to trace his cheeks, and I saw decades-old sorrow reflected in his eyes. “Now I’m an orphan too,” I whispered.

He groaned and coaxed me to rest again on his chest. “We have each other, darling. And our siblings.”

“Although I haven’t heard from Patrick in over two years. Ever since he moved to New York, he’s failed to maintain any contact with us.”

“Rissa, does Colin know?”

“No-o,” I stammered. I snuggled back into Gabriel’s arms, wishing I could remain in his embrace forever, ignoring the telegram heralding the death of my da. “I can’t imagine telling him.”

“We’ll tell him together, before supper tonight. He’s coming over to eat with all of us.”

“Oh, Gabriel, I can’t. I …” I broke off.

“I know you want to curl up in bed and hide,” he whispered. “The pain’s too fierce and how could you possibly sit through dinner?” He kissed my eyebrows. “But you’ll be with friends who are as family. You need the support of those who love you at a time like this. Let them help care for you, darling.”

***

I HEARD COLIN’S BOOMING VOICE as he entered the kitchen. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply at what lay before me.

“I’ll be here with you, love.” Gabriel squeezed my shoulder before opening the library door to speak with Colin. I heard their deep voices, Colin telling some tale about an errant dairy cow’s escapade through the city’s streets as they approached.

“You sure have made yourselves at home,” Colin teased as he entered the study. I saw him still as he looked toward me. He stood rigidly with his shoulders drawn together and his hands clenched at his sides as though preparing for a fight. “What is it, Rissa?”

“I had a telegram today, Col,” I croaked out, sounding as hoarse as a bullfrog.

He rushed toward me and crouched beside me. “Is it Savannah? Has that bastard—”

“No, no, Col.” I gripped his hand and patted it as a tear leaked out. “Da died. He had a heart seizure at the forge and died.”

Colin fell backward until he sat on the floor, a dazed and distant look in his eyes. “He can’t be dead. He was always so strong. So healthy.”

“I know, Col. But Aunt Betsy wouldn’t lie to us.”

He nodded. “When’s the funeral?”

“Soon.” I bit down a sob. “I plan on traveling east for it. I hope to leave on the train tomorrow.”

“I should have been there,” he rasped. “I shouldn’t have left him to run it alone. I knew how much work it was. How hard a time he was having finding someone he could trust. And I left him. I left him!” Colin banged his fist onto the wooden floor in his anger.