Undaunted Love (PART TWO): Banished Saga, Book 3.5 (33 page)

“I will forever be thankful to you for caring for my daughter as your own. For she was yours, the daughter of your heart,” Savannah whispered as she fought tears.

“If you will forgive me, I must return to Harriett.” Mr. Woodhouse rose. “The services are planned for the day after tomorrow in Lowell. I’ll leave the information with the butler.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy said as he rose and walked with Mr. Woodhouse to the front door. When he returned, Savannah was curled on the settee, a throw pillow clasped to her middle as sobs burst forth.

Jeremy knelt beside her, hugging her as best he could. He pulled her to him and rocked her in his arms, sitting on the floor with her in his lap. Running his hands over her head and shoulders, again and again, he attempted to impart wordless comfort.

Sophronia came in as Savannah sobbed and met Jeremy’s tormented gaze, her aquamarine eyes glistening at the sounds of Savannah’s distress. She sat in a chair, waiting for Savannah to calm.

“You’ll go with me?” Savannah asked.

“You don’t need to ask,” Jeremy whispered into her ear. “Can I tell Sophie? She’s sitting behind you.” Savannah nodded her agreement, rubbing her face up and down on his chest. “Mr. Woodhouse visited today,” Jeremy murmured.

“He refuses to travel with you and wants Hope to have no further contact with you?” Sophie asked, her anger and indignation rising.

“No. We didn’t even ask him about Montana. They’d sent messages that Hope’s been ill with a cold. I guess it must have been more serious than they told us because she had typhoid. She died last night.”

“Well, I never,” Sophronia said, as she held a hand to her chest. “Why didn’t they tell you so you could visit?”

“She was recovering and then became suddenly more ill again. Unexpectedly. He meant to send a telegram but didn’t want to leave her bedside.” Jeremy kissed Savannah’s cheek as another sob stuttered out.

“Admirable,” Sophronia whispered as she watched Savannah. “Oh, my dearest. There are no words to ease this torment. What can I do?”

“Come to the funeral with me,” Savannah whispered. “I can’t go to it alone.”

“Nor will you be,” Jeremy vowed. “I’ll speak to Colin, and I know he’ll be there. Richard can man the forge. I doubt Florence will want to travel such a distance with the baby. I’ll speak with Uncle Aidan, and I know he’ll be there.”

“What will you do afterward?” Sophronia asked.

“There’s no reason we can’t travel now,” Savannah whispered. “I want to see Clarissa. Go west. Leave all this behind.”

Jeremy shared a worried glance with Sophronia. “Her father and brother are improving and are expected out of the hospital in a day or so.”

“When they are home, we should make plans to leave,” Savannah said.

Jeremy kissed her head, holding her more tightly against his chest. “Soon, my love, soon.”

***

March 22, 1903

Dearest Mrs. Maidstone,

I promised to honor your wish and remain away from the orphanage. I am endeavoring to remain true to that vow. Rather than bring this news in person, I write with the hope the news reaches you in a timely manner. Mrs. Montgomery’s daughter, Hope Woodhouse, died from typhoid yesterday, and her services will be in Lowell at 10:00 a.m. the day after tomorrow. We are meeting at North Station at 7:30 a.m. to travel together to the funeral. I believe it would be acceptable for you to join us.

Sincerely,

Aidan McLeod

***

SAVANNAH STOOD TO ONE SIDE of the mourners with Jeremy, Colin, Sophronia and Aidan forming a wall around her. She need but reach out and one of them would seek to offer her comfort. However, she bowed her head as the pastor intoned a prayer, fueling impotent rage rather than imparting solace as intended. She gripped her hands to her sides, holding herself with a rigidity not experienced since living with Jonas, encouraging the deep numbness settling over her.

Sophronia sniffed, and Aidan placed a consoling hand on Savannah’s shoulder moments before she moved forward to sprinkle dirt on the tiny casket. She bent, lifting the dirt and holding it over the yawning hole in the barely thawed earth, her arm shaking as her fingers refused to release the dirt. After a few moments, she held her gripped fist to her mouth, kissed it and then, with visible effort, released the dirt. As it fell, it created a tinkling sound on the casket.

“Good-bye, my beloved,” Savannah whispered. She returned to stand near Jeremy, but moved so that no one would touch her. A few moments later came a ponderous “Amen” from the pastor, and the service concluded.

Savannah moved toward the Woodhouses, dressed in unrelieved black. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” she whispered to first one and then the next, and moved on as the line of mourners grew behind her.

“Ma’am,” Mr. Woodhouse said, gripping her hand to prevent her from slipping away. “Will you come by the house? You and your friends? There are things we’d like to show you.”

Savannah nodded and moved away. Jeremy approached her, a quizzical expression marring his features as he studied her. “Savannah? What did he say?” He reached out to stroke her arm, moving his hand up and down, even though she tensed with the contact.

“He invited all of us to their house. There are things they wanted to show us.”

“Of course,” Jeremy said. “Aidan had planned a meal at a nearby tavern. We’ll go there first and then to their home.”

Savannah allowed herself to be led by Jeremy, climbing into the hired carriage to ride the short distance to the tavern. Upon their arrival, Aidan descended, marching into the tavern to speak to the owner as Jeremy and Colin helped Sophronia and Savannah out.

“As I had requested, there is a private room for us,” Aidan said. “I’ve been told the food here is quite good.” He nodded for them to enter and intercepted Savannah. “My dear niece, for I think of you as my niece, I hope you know you can ask me for any support you might need.”

“The only thing I need, no money will ever be able to buy,” Savannah snapped as she attempted to march around him. Aidan blocked her movement, remaining in front of her.

“You’re correct of course. Nothing will ever bring your daughter back, and I’m sorrier than I can say. If there was anything Jeremy or I could do, you know we’d do it.” He tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I know what it is to lose a child, Savannah. I know you’ll never be whole again.”

Savannah blinked away tears and firmed her jaw. “I’m fine.”

“You’re far from fine,” Aidan argued. “Find comfort where you can, Savannah. Don’t attempt to recover from such a loss on your own.” He gave her a gentle shake. “I tried, and it only made everything harder. Let that man inside, who loves you past reason, comfort you.”

“I’ll consider what you have to say,” Savannah murmured as she extricated herself from his grasp and moved into the tavern.

***

SAVANNAH LED THE SMALL GROUP to the front door of the Woodhouses’ brick three-story home on the outskirts of Lowell. A barn and chicken coop stood nearby, with a large oak tree providing shade to the house.

Before Savannah could knock on the door, it swung open. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” Mrs. Woodhouse said. Grief had etched fine lines around her mouth, and she appeared much older than her thirty-five years.

Savannah instinctively grasped her hand in a comforting grip. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should be saying that to you. We did all we could. I promise. There was nothing more to do.”

Savannah nodded, blinking away fresh tears. She followed Mrs. Woodhouse into their home. They entered a small entryway and then immediately into a front sitting room with light-rose-colored wallpaper. A pair of chairs and settees formed a semicircle facing the fireplace. Formal portraits of dour ancestors hung on the walls while a closed door prevented Savannah from seeing into the rear of the house. Mrs. Woodhouse motioned for everyone to sit while Mr. Woodhouse entered carrying a tea tray.

“Would you mind coming with me, Mrs. Montgomery?” Mrs. Woodhouse asked when everyone was settled.

Savannah rose and followed her into the small foyer and up a flight of stairs. They paused outside a closed door.

“I’ve had the room cleaned, but I haven’t touched any of her things. I wanted you to see them, to have anything of hers you wanted.”

Savannah took a step back before firming her spine and motioning for Mrs. Woodhouse to open the door. Savannah entered the small corner room. Two windows allowed in bright light. A small bed with a pink blanket and lace ruffles sat against the far wall while a trunk sat under one of the windows. A stuffed doll and lamb lay on top of the bed.

Savannah crept into the room, listening intently, as though waiting for the echo of her daughter’s laughter. “May I have a few moments?” she said with a quavering voice. Mrs. Woodhouse nodded, leaving Savannah alone.

Savannah moved to the bed, sitting for a moment as she hugged the stuffed lamb to her. She rose, leaving the lamb, sinking in front of the trunk. Inhaling deeply, she opened it. She closed her eyes as Hope’s scent enveloped her. After a moment, she reached into the trunk, pulling out a christening dress, a tiny pair of baby shoes, a red velvet dress for Christmas. She traced her hand over the clothes, imagining her daughter, smiling and cheerful, wearing them.

She placed a hand to her mouth, swallowing a sob. She was unable to fight the tears, and they burst forth. She bent forward, keening as she cried, her hands wrapped around her middle.

“Savannah, darling,” Jeremy whispered as he entered the room. He caressed her head, bending forward to whisper in her ear. “I lied and said I needed to use the bathroom. I really needed to find you. But I’ll leave, if you want me to.”

“No,” Savannah implored, shaking. “Stay with me.”

Jeremy wrapped her in his arms, rocking her from side to side. “Cry, my love. Cry. Don’t keep this inside.”

“These were her clothes, Jeremy. They still smell like her. How can my precious baby be dead? I had such little time with her.” Savannah shuddered as her sobs quieted.

“I don’t know, my love. Very little about this world makes sense.”

After a few moments he kissed her head and leaned away. “Are you ready to return downstairs?”

“Yes. They said I could have anything of hers. But this all must be precious to them.” Savannah glanced around the room.

“What do you want?” He swiped at the tears that continued to fall.

“I want her stuffed lamb,” Savannah whispered.

“Then take it. I’m sure they’d want you to have it.” He rose, reaching to help her to her feet. She was unsteady and leaned into him as she regained her balance.

“Forgive me, Jeremy.” At his confused stare, she said, “Forgive me for my coldness earlier. I couldn’t allow myself to feel. I couldn’t break down at the funeral.”

“Darling, do you think I didn’t understand?” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I understood your need to act as though nothing was affecting you. You like to believe you can live in a state where you don’t feel pain or emotions. I know it’s false and that it will only be a matter of time until something provokes a deep sentiment in you.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve too much life, too much passion in you, to be restrained behind a wall of ice,” he said as he kissed her on the forehead again.

Savannah looked around her daughter’s room one last time before moving to the bed to grasp the small stuffed lamb. She clutched it to her breast, before kissing it. “I’ll never stop loving you, my Hope,” she whispered as she placed her hand in Jeremy’s and followed him out of the room.

CHAPTER 25

AIDAN ENTERED THE PARKER HOUSE HOTEL,
walking toward the front desk area for his key. He smiled to the man at the front desk who handed him an envelope along with his key. Aidan turned, walking toward the elevators and his room, scanning the message as he waited for the elevator.

“Damn,” he muttered, turning away from the elevators and ascending the stairs one floor. He walked a short distance until he reached a formal sitting room, filled with overstuffed furniture covered in chintz fabric. He glanced around, finding Delia sitting near one of two fireplaces.

“Mrs. Maidstone,” Aidan said as he approached, bowing before sitting across from her. “I hadn’t expected to see you.”

“Mr. McLeod,” Delia said as she smiled at a young woman who delivered a fresh pot of tea with one cup. “I’m sorry. I just ordered for myself. Is there anything you’d like?”

“Coffee,” Aidan said with an absent smile of thanks before the serving girl walked away. He tilted his head to one side as he studied Delia. “Why are you here?”

“I received your note, but I wasn’t able to leave the orphanage. I’m sorry, Aidan, for Savannah’s loss.”

“Yes, well, she’s finding it difficult to come to terms with her daughter’s death. She’ll need time to recover.” His jaw tightened. “Although I know she’ll never fully return to who she was before this loss.”

Delia moved forward in her chair as though she were to grip his hand but then stilled her movement with the arrival of the serving girl. Delia waved her away with a smile and poured tea while Aidan poured himself a cup of strong black coffee.