Undaunted Love (PART TWO): Banished Saga, Book 3.5 (30 page)

“At too early an age,” Aidan growled. “Zylphia, you will never know what joy it has brought me to know I have a daughter. Or what sorrow to realize all the years I lost with you. All I ask is that I be given a chance to know the woman you are now. I …” He broke off what he was going to say when he saw Jeremy rushing toward him. A waiter trailed him, attempting to prevent him from approaching the table, but Jeremy shook off his hand and strode to the table. At a glance from Aidan, the waiter faded away.

“Uncle, if I might have a word?” Jeremy said, gasping a little. He clutched the rim of his hat in his hands, his suit sprinkled with dust from the workshop.

“Jeremy, sit down before you fall down.” Aidan pointed to the empty chair at the table. “My nephew, Jeremy McLeod. I believe you’ve met Mrs. Maidstone. Her daughter, Miss Maidstone.”

“Ma’am, miss.” Jeremy nodded in their direction but looked at his uncle beseechingly. “I need your help. Savannah’s in trouble, and I don’t know what to do.”

“What kind of trouble?” Aidan asked, his eyes sharpening.

“Colin’s waiting in the lobby. He found me at the workshop. Told me that Sav’s been arrested. For murder. Her father and Lucas are in the hospital.”

Delia gasped. “Is she all right? Has her husband harmed her?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her. I doubt they’d let me see her,” Jeremy said, fear and impotent fury lacing his tone.

“Delia, Zylphia, will you please excuse me? This is an unfortunate turn of events, and I must render what aid I can to my nephew’s friend.” Aidan clasped Delia’s hand for a moment before rising. “Please, enjoy dinner. I’ll call at the orphanage as soon as I can.” He rose, speaking with the waiter as he strode out.

“What in God’s name happened?” Aidan asked as he and Jeremy met Colin on the sidewalk outside the hotel. They began the short walk toward Sophronia’s.

“Savannah insisted on accepting her parents’ invitation to celebrate her birthday with them. She’s missed her father and wanted to show her mother she was well. They asked that it be a strictly family affair, thus I was excluded.”

“And Jonas? Why was he there?”

“Aunt Matilda invited him,” Colin said. “Said she was tired of the ridicule and gossip surrounding the family.”

“Seems she’s only garnered more after tonight,” Aidan said. “How can they have charged Savannah with murder?”

“Because she killed Jonas,” Colin said, meeting Aidan’s incredulous stare. “He had a gun and had already shot Lucas and Uncle Martin, and I think he would have shot all of us if he could have. He gave no indication that he was going to leave without Savannah.”

“How did he die?”

“She stabbed him with a letter opener,” Colin said. “In an instant, he was brought to his knees, gasping for air.”

Jeremy pounded on Sophronia’s door, and the three of them were led immediately upstairs to a pacing Sophronia in the formal sitting room.

“About time you arrived,” she said in her scratchy voice. She nodded her thanks to a maid who delivered coffee and tea, following her to the door and firmly shutting it behind her. She waved the men to various chairs as she sat in her lady’s chair. “A letter opener, Colin?”

“It’s what was at hand, ma’am. And it proved quite sharp.”

Sophronia frowned and tapped her fingers on the wooden arm of her chair. “I’ve sent for my lawyer. I’m certain he’ll be most displeased at being disturbed at such an hour, but it can’t be helped. How are her father and brother?”

“I don’t know. They were brought to the hospital, and we were instructed we could visit tomorrow. They were both shot by Jonas and bleeding heavily.”

Sophie glanced toward the door at a gentle tap. Poole opened the door, admitting Sophronia’s lawyer. “Ah, Mr. Jurdaine. Thank you for coming at such an hour.”

He nodded, setting his briefcase next to his chair and sitting down. He crossed his legs, his chocolate-colored pants pleating with his movement. His deep brown eyes took in the three men sitting across from Sophronia. Aidan, impeccably dressed for dinner in a black suit, white starched shirt and polished shoes. Jeremy, covered in a thin sheen of wood dust and wearing worn pants and a long sleeved shirt. Colin, whose light-blue shirt was marred with splotches of blood. All three men wore the same resolute, determined look as they met his stare.

“If you could bring me up-to-date?” he nodded again, this time giving his thanks for a cup of black coffee.

Colin spoke, giving a brief overview of the evening’s events.

“And you’re certain she told the policemen that she killed the man?”

“I’m certain,” Colin said. “It’s why they took her away and put her in a paddy wagon.” Jeremy grimaced next to him. “However, they granted her the courtesy of not handcuffing her.”

“This is highly irregular. There are mandates set forth by various court cases such as
Runyon v. State of Indiana
or
Beard v. United States
. They stated that a person has the right to protect oneself from attack, particularly when one is in one’s home. And I will argue, what had previously been one’s home and should be as her home, as is the case for Mrs. Montgomery, thus negating the argument of
Allen v. United States
.”

“You’ll be able to free her then?” Sophronia asked.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult. There is a strong court precedent for it, and there is a well-documented history of abuse.”

“I thought you stated the staff would never speak out against Jonas,” Jeremy said, his shoulders relaxing slightly at the lawyer’s show of confidence.

“They wouldn’t while he was alive, although I wonder if it will be different now that he is dead.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. One of the doctors who had associated with Mr. Montgomery died last week in a trolley accident. I spoke with his colleague about the potential court case and the concern for a history of abuse at Mr. Montgomery’s hands just yesterday. For some reason this colleague allowed me to see the notes taken. The abuse detailed is rather … extensive.”

Jeremy tensed. “Imagine living through it,” he hissed.

“I’d rather not. But, if this were to go to court, which I doubt it will, there will be a substantial amount of evidence as to the past abuse and the concern for future abuse at her husband’s hands, had he succeeded in forcing her home with him. That threat alone would warrant her need for self-defense. I suspect I will merely need to speak in front of a judge.”

“How soon can Savannah be released?” Colin asked.

“Hopefully tomorrow.” He shared a sardonic smile with Sophronia. “I remember her saying she did not want to have the details of her abuse made public. I’m afraid she’ll become the most talked-about woman in Boston for a time.”

***

AIDAN KNOCKED on Delia’s door at the orphanage the following afternoon, uncertain of his welcome. At her short, “Enter,” he pushed open the door. “Hello, Delia.”

She glanced up from reading the headlines proclaiming “Abused Socialite Takes Law into Hands, Skewers Savage Spouse.” She asked Aidan, “Is this true?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is.” He closed the door behind him and, as was becoming customary, sat in the chair in front of her desk. “Savannah suffered greatly at his hands, and he attempted to force her back with him last night. He shot her brother and father in his attempt.”

“Would he really have shot her too?” Delia continued to look from the lurid paper to Aidan.

“Colin believes so. He struggled with the man in an attempt to force him to release the gun, but Jonas was determined to hold onto it.”

Delia held a dazed hand to her head, a relieved smile flitting over her lips before she subdued her emotions. She met Aidan’s curious stare and shrugged.

Aidan tilted his head to one side, running one of his hands over the fine linen of his black pants as he studied her. “Why would you be pleased that Mr. Montgomery has met his maker?”

“Did you never wonder why else I might have acted as I did, Aidan? That there might have been something other than anger or resentment motivating my actions toward Savannah?”

He studied her a long moment, his features hardening while his gaze became implacable. “What did he threaten you with?”

“Exposing my secret about Zylphia. He had learned, somehow, that there’d never been a Mr. Maidstone and threatened me that, if I ever aided Savannah in any way, I’d ensure not only the loss of my post but that the orphanage would be destroyed. That all the children would be thrown out onto the streets.”

“You had to have known he was bluffing, Delia,” Aidan said.

“For the first few days I was so scared I didn’t sleep at night. All I could envision was the scandal and the loss of everything I’ve worked for. Zylphia on the streets. These beautiful children forced to suffer even more.” She closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. “Even though I realized that most of what he’d said was pure bluster, that he would never have the clout to shut the orphanage down, he still retained the ability to destroy my life. Thus, I acted to protect myself.”

“And your daughter. Our daughter,” he murmured.

“Yes.” She firmed her lips. “And I’d do it again. There’s little I wouldn’t do to protect Zylphia.”

“I have no plans to hurt her, Delia.”

“I know, but, when you left precipitously last night, she was more confused than you can imagine. You didn’t even acknowledge that Jeremy is her cousin.”

“Delia, forgive me.”

Delia held up her hand, forestalling any further rush of words on his part. “I understand it was a crisis. I’m sorry for reacting the way I am. I worry for Zylphia. She’s seen the harsh realities of the world too quickly, and I can’t bear for her to be disappointed now.”

Aidan rose and moved toward her, tracing a hand along her desktop. He stilled as he saw a small pink shell on the corner. He picked it up and traced its fragile shape. “Delia?”

“That was the last thing you gave me. From the trip before everything changed. You brought me home a set of pearls and that shell. For some reason that shell was always more precious to me.”

“What happened to the pearls?” Aidan caressed the shell once more before setting it down.

“I sold them. Years ago when Zylphia became ill, and I needed money to pay for a doctor.”

“Good.” Aidan reached out long fingers to stroke her cheek. “I wish I’d been there with you, to share the worry. The joy. The indescribable terror as she grew and demanded her independence.”

“Aidan,” Delia rasped.

He crouched in front of her, at the same height as she was, while sitting in her chair. He caressed a hand to the nape of her neck, moving his thumb along her cheek. He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers, waiting a moment for her to press him away. Instead, her hand curled into his shoulder, and he deepened the kiss.

He broke the kiss when they were breathless and nibbled his way up to her ear, whispering, “I’ve missed you, my Delia.” He leaned away, brushing at her hair, smiling to find it still in place.

“Aidan,” Delia murmured, pushing at him and rising when he leaned away. She walked to the bookshelf, gripping one of the shelves with one hand, the other on her hip.

“I’d like to have a gathering where you and Zylphia can meet my nephews and their families. I want them to know you even though I understand if it needs to be secret.” He watched her stiffen with his words. “I’d prefer to proclaim my interest in you. Have the world know you are the woman I—”

“Don’t, Aidan,” Delia pleaded, still facing the bookshelf.

“Don’t speak the truth to you? I thought we promised each other honesty. Why won’t you allow me to speak of my feelings?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m almost fifty-five years old. I would think I’d know what I feel by now.” Humor laced his voice.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she whispered.

“Oh, Delia, I’m not. Well, I’m laughing at the two of us. For not grasping at our chance at happiness. We shouldn’t squander this opportunity, Delia. It won’t come again.”

“When are you leaving Boston?” She traced the spine of one of the texts, and Aidan couldn’t make out the name of the book.

“I’ve no fixed schedule. I have competent people at my offices in San Francisco, and I will continue to rely on them as I remain here.”

“I’d hate for your business to suffer on my account.”

He gripped her shoulders and spun her to face him. “My business can go hang, Delia. I care about you. And Zylphia. About my nephews and their families. Everything else is secondary.” He watched her with such intensity shining from his deep blue eyes that she shivered. “I hope someday you’ll come to believe me.”

Delia remained frozen in place, her face a mask of impassivity. She watched him with eyes dulled from years of unfulfilled hopes, failing to respond to the yearning in his eyes and gentle grip on her arms.

He backed away a step. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few appointments I need to keep.” His shoulders stiffened when she remained silent as he walked away from her. He paused at the door. “Although I don’t agree with you, Delia, I find I don’t have the heart to continue to deny you what you want. I will no longer call at the orphanage to see you. If you’d like to see me, you know where I’m staying. I will write Zylphia to determine if she is amenable to seeing me again.”