Resilient Love: Banished Saga, Book 7 Page 2

  Zylphia rolled her eyes, frowning as she met her father’s patient gaze. “He proclaimed that we were to fight for democracy and to fight ‘for the right of those who submit to authority to have a voice in their own governments.’”

  “I think his reasoning for us to enter this war was well-thought-out and admirable in its idealism.” Aidan watched as his daughter flushed with agitation.

  “He doesn’t promote suffrage for half of the population living in his own country! How can he proclaim that he’s a proponent of spreading democracy around the world when he won’t even allow it to flourish here? The man’s a hypocrite.”

  Delia stifled a giggle while Aidan smiled. “I see your time in Washington has done little to temper your feelings toward the president.” He sobered as he watched his only child. “However, now that we have entered the war, I hope you and your group will change your tactics.”

  Zylphia’s cheeky smile was her answer. “If anything, we’ll ratchet up our actions.” At her mother’s indrawn breath, Zylphia clasped her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s fine, Mother. We are perfectly safe, and we aren’t doing anything illegal.”

  Aidan grunted his disagreement. “I fear the public’s perception of your actions could very well change now that our boys are joining those fighting in the trenches and suffering through gas attacks on the front.” His somber gaze sobered Zylphia. “Standing in front of the White House with banners challenging the president won’t be well received now, Zee.”

  Zylphia raised her chin. “We can’t change simply because we might offend a few people. If we did, then we’ll never have success, and women will never earn the right to vote.” Her gaze became confrontational. “Did you ever consider that, by challenging the way people view the world, we’re forcing them to envision a new way to live? A new way to perceive the world around them and those who inhabit it?”

  She took a deep breath as she spread her arms wide. “This is 1917. Women should have the same rights as men.”

  Delia smiled with pride at her daughter. “I fear that belief will be revolutionary for some of our fine citizens even one hundred years from now. Even though you are correct.”

  “Simply because you want something to be doesn’t mean it will come to be,” Teddy said. He sighed as Zylphia stiffened as he spoke to her.

  “I don’t know as it helped your cause to have the only congresswoman in history vote against the war,” Aidan said, raising an eyebrow as he met his daughter’s indignant glare.

  Zylphia faced her father, unable to hide a delighted smile. “I met her. The night before the vote. She was undecided on what she should do. She knew what she believed but was uncertain as to the effect it would have.” Zylphia shook her head in disgust. “Fifty voted against the war in the final tally, and the papers focused solely on her.”

  “What do you expect? She will be scrutinized during her entire term in the House,” Delia said. “Besides, this was one of her first votes. Few congressmen, never mind a congresswoman, have had to make such a momentous vote.”

  “I imagine the outcry would have been greater,” her father said, “if Democratic leader Kitchin hadn’t also opposed the measure and led to others casting similar votes. I heard, before his vocal opposition, only a handful were considering voting no.” Aidan tilted his head as though considering the sway of such a leader. “And then Kitchin speaks, and he has fifty ‘no’ votes.”

  “There was never any worry that a sufficient amount of dissents would forestall a Declaration of War,” Delia said. “I wonder how things will change now that we are at war.”

  Zylphia shifted in her chair. “As for Miss Rankin, the newspapers made up lies to sensationalize their readership. She didn’t run from the House floor crying. She didn’t cry at all.” Zylphia sighed with displeasure. “And yet the papers are full of reports of her throwing her head back and sobbing. Or bursting into tears as she whispered, ‘No.’”

  “One reporter wrote,” Teddy said, “that her emotional display was proof of a woman’s inability for logical use of reasoning and further demonstrates why women shouldn’t be taxed in such a way.”

  Delia snorted. “Yes, let’s keep us all in the kitchen or in the parlor, knitting. It’s so much easier for us to know our place that way.”

  Zylphia snickered at her mother’s comment. She sobered after a moment. “I still think it took great courage on her part. I can’t imagine having to make such a public declaration.”

  “And yet you do. Every day you picket,” Teddy murmured, earning a startled glance from his wife. “It might not have as profound or as immediate an effect as your Miss Rankin voting in congress, but it has an effect on the conscience of those who make policy.”

  After an awkward silence, Teddy nodded to his mother-in-law. “I imagine the war will change how we perceive the world, as it always does. We’ll see people as threats, whereas the day before they were our friend. We’ll give up some of our liberties, in order to feel more secure, even though no threat of attack is on our shores.” He ran his thumb back and forth over his wounded fingers. “We’ll change … and not for the better.”

  “Is that what’s happened in England?” Aidan asked.

  “Even the suffragettes have given up protesting,” Teddy said. “I doubt that would go over well with your Miss Paul.”

  Zylphia bristled at the thought. “If anything, we’re more emboldened.”

  Teddy raised an eyebrow. “My cousin says that even the Pankhursts believe it’s folly to protest against the war movement. That there are times when the cause must take a backseat to historic events.”

  “Then I’m afraid they’re wrong. Besides, we live in America, and we’ll be protected by our laws.” Zylphia nodded with confidence.

  “I don’t want you in jail, Zylphia,” Aidan said. “I want your reassurance that you will not do anything foolish that leads to imprisonment.”

  Zylphia met her father’s worried gaze and smiled. “I promise I will be sensible at all times. I have faith in the NWP leaders. They won’t want to lose their trusted workers to jail.”

  Delia hushed Zylphia and clasped her hand. “No more talk of jail or suffering on Easter. We are here to celebrate together.” Delia leaned toward Zylphia, their heads bent together once more.

  Aidan watched his wife and daughter and murmured to Teddy. “I trust you will ensure Zylphia remains safe even if those in leadership are struck by foolish notions?”

  “I will do what I can, Aidan. You know I will.” Teddy watched his wife as she spoke with her mother. “However, we both know that she is intrepid enough to elude our care.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Richard McLeod and his family. Richard entered, shooing his five sons in front of him while his wife, Florence, held back to ensure none of the boys evaded their efforts to corral them in the proper direction. Everyone stood as hugs were exchanged. “We just pushed in. The boys were too excited to wait for anyone to answer the door.” Richard gave an apologetic smile to his uncle.

  “No need to stand on ceremony. You know you are always welcome here. I couldn’t be more delighted that we are together on Easter,” Aidan said as he wrapped Richard in a tight hug. He bent down to pick up the youngest of his great-nephews, Calvin. At age seven, he was nearly too big to be picked up.

  The other boys swarmed around Delia, speaking over each other in their efforts to tell her about their day and the Easter basket they had found at the front door. She kissed each one on the forehead and listened with rapt attention.

  Teddy moved to Zylphia to whisper in her ear, “Seems they’ve found one of their favorite people.”

  Zylphia stiffened before forcing a smile. “My mother has always been extremely fond of Richard’s children and has been good to them.” In an instant, her cold smile to her husband bloomed into genuine joy as Gideon and Thomas grabbed her hands and tugged her to the side of the room, playing marbles with her.

  “I’m glad they could visit
Zee,” Florence murmured to Teddy. “They’ve missed her.” Her sharp gaze roved over Teddy, while he eased the tension from his stance.

  He knew he had failed by the concern in her gaze. “She’s been quite occupied of late in Washington. I fear she will need to remain there for some time in order to promote her cause.” He tapped at his pant leg with his injured hand.

  “If that is what you both want, then I can’t argue with that decision.” At that moment, Aidan called them to dinner, cutting off whatever more she would say.

  Teddy exhaled a deep breath in thanksgiving at this conversation being interrupted and followed his extended family into the dining room.

  Chapter 2

  A few weeks later, Rowena walked into the small apartment—more like a suite of rooms in a boarding house—that she shared with Zylphia in DC, and slammed a newspaper onto the table. She tapped an article with her finger as her irate gaze met Zylphia’s startled one. “Have you seen this? Have you read the insolence of this man?”

  Zylphia shook her head and approached the table. She raised the newspaper, reading aloud the area Rowena pointed at. “‘Men, I am convinced that our first duty is to remasculinize America, and that, to this end, we in this state must stand as a wall against the wave of effeminacy which now threatens the semiemasculation of our electorate.’” Zylphia lowered the paper in indignation. “Who is this Henry Wise Wood?”

  Rowena shook her head. “We must post a printed response to this nonsense. Such thinking must not be allowed to burgeon. And you can craft your banners today accordingly.” She nodded to Zee. “I wanted to ensure you knew of this before I headed to Cameron House to meet with Nina. I hope she’ll draw a picture in response to such a horrific quote.”

  Zylphia smiled. “You’ll skewer him with your words either way. I’m rather upset you hid such a talent from me for so long.” Zylphia grabbed the newspaper, her hat, gloves and purse. “Come. I’ll join you.”

  She locked their apartment door and walked the short distance to Cameron House with Rowena. “I love spring,” she breathed. “Yet it almost feels like summer down here, now that it’s the first of May.”

  They crossed through a square where the trees had already bloomed, and birds flew in and out of the protective canopy, building their nests. Tulip petals carpeted beds as they faded from their previous glory. Zylphia and Rowena left the soothing parklike area and walked along the cobbled streets toward Cameron House.

  “Do you picket today?” Rowena asked.

  “If they need me to, I will. Otherwise I’ll support those who are going and cheer when they return.” Zylphia smiled. “I am tired of writing letters and stuffing envelopes, but I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to ensure we are successful.”

  Rowena looked at her friend with curiosity. “If that’s true, why don’t you have another showing, like you did a few years ago, with all the proceeds going to the cause?”

  Zylphia sighed. “I have considered it, but I haven’t painted in months, and, now that we are at war, Sophie has warned me in one of her myriad letters how many will consider an art show a conceited display of ego when our men are in danger abroad. Especially if the proceeds aren’t to go to the war effort.” She glared at a man she recognized as a reporter. “It’s interesting how it was acceptable to have a party when we weren’t involved in the war going on across the ocean.”

  “Everything has changed, Zee. You know that,” Rowena said with a squeeze to her friend’s arm.

  “Have you had any difficulties?”

  “People focus on my father. They’ve mainly forgotten my dead mother.” Rowena shrugged. “Unfortunately that’s to my benefit at the moment.”

  “From everything I’ve learned about her, she was a good woman, Ro,” Zylphia murmured. “You shouldn’t have to hide the fact you’re part German.”

  “Says the woman who’s Irish and English.” She sighed as her tone held more bitterness than she intended. “Forgive me. I hate the fact I can be considered suspect or my loyalty to my country questioned, merely because of who my mother was.”

  “At least you’re still a citizen. They haven’t taken that away from you yet.”

  “Yet,” they said in unison, before sharing a smile.

  “Oh, it’s a glorious day, Zee. I wish we didn’t have to be cooped up all day long.” Rowena shook her head. “And don’t even consider advising me that the way to spend time outside is to be on the picket line. You know the one condition my father gave for allowing me to travel here was that I’d never picket.”

  Zylphia sighed with frustration. “What I’ll never understand is why you allow him to dictate what you can and cannot do. You’re old enough to be an independent woman with your own money. It makes no sense.”

  “Unlike you, Zee, I like harmony,” Rowena said, before laughing. “Although that may sound strange as I write for the Suffragist. But, in my personal life, I do.”

  Zylphia frowned at her friend. “It’s not as though I intentionally bring discord or discontentment into my life.”

  “Yet it is full of strife at the moment.” They shared a long look. “And I wonder what it will take for you to value harmony, to consider compromise.” She followed Zylphia into the first floor of Cameron House and was soon too busy writing articles and discussing ideas with Nina Allender and others to think further about Zylphia’s problems.

  “You’re quite industrious today,” Octavius Hooper said as he perched on the edge of Zylphia’s desk. He held himself in such a way as to highlight his attributes. He wore his blond hair cut in the latest fashion and tamed with pomade while his lithe long frame was covered in a perfectly tailored navy-blue suit. His dark blue eyes were filled with mischief as he watched Zylphia and met her disgruntled glare with an affable smile. “Why don’t we get some lunch?”

  Zylphia shook her head, opening the drawer near his leg, banging into his calf and the side of his shin.

  He stood to avoid further injury and moved to sit in the chair across from her.

  She pulled out a paper bag and shook it. “I brought my own today.”

  Massaging his leg, he frowned at her. “I bet that’s barely edible. Come out for a real lunch,” he coaxed.

  “Mr. Hooper, I have work that I must complete today, and I’m uncertain if I’ll join the picket this afternoon.” She gave him a quelling glare, although a smile flirted on her lips.

  He huffed out a sigh. “I’ll have to settle for my own company.”

  Zylphia laughed. “Which we all know is lacking.” She sobered. “Thank you for the invitation, but I can’t accept today.” She signed her name to letters until her fingers cramped, then she stuffed them into envelopes as she spoke with him. “Why do you have so much free time right now? I thought you were a successful lawyer.”

  “I am. I’m between cases.” He shrugged. “I only accept those that interest me and little has lately.”

  Zylphia smiled. “You’re waiting for something truly scandalous before you’ll commit yourself.”

  He grinned and murmured, “Something like that.”

  His tone provoked a fierce blush from her, and Zylphia cleared her throat as the heat rose to her face. She looked around the bustling room and saw Rowena glance in Zylphia’s direction with concern.

  “I’m certain Miss Paul could find use of your services.” Zylphia frowned when she signed the last letter in this stack and proceeded to sign those in the next stack.

  “I find I’d offer my services to only a certain few.” He met Zylphia’s startled gaze and then laughed. “Come. Let’s enjoy the day. I’m certain you are free for a few moments for a walk. You shouldn’t be trapped inside all day.”

  As Zylphia formed a reply, Rowena approached. “Zee, I need your assistance with a project I’m working on. It could take the better part of the afternoon.” She sniffed, not looking in Octavius’s direction. “Mr. Hooper.”

  At her chilly welcome, he chuckled. “I believe I’ve just been dismissed by the termag
ant. I hope you complete your work today, Mrs. Goff. I’ll take a rain check.” He sauntered from the room, smiling and calling out greetings to women as he passed them.

  “You must discourage him, Zee,” Rowena said on a hiss. “He’s only interested in you because he sees you as a challenge.”

  “A little flirtation never harmed anyone,” Zylphia whispered. “Besides, it’s nice to feel appreciated and attractive in a man’s eyes. I haven’t felt that way with my own husband in too long.” She looked around, ensuring no one was close enough to overhear her whispered conversation with Rowena. Zylphia shook her head, discouraging any further discussion of Mr. Hooper. “Now, what is it that you need help with?”

  “Nothing. I wanted him to cease pestering you. He wasn’t aiding in the cause and was only harming your reputation.” At Zylphia’s scoff of laughter, Rowena glared at her. “One day you will regret these actions that you consider harmless.”

  Zylphia stared at her friend as Rowena strode away. Zylphia leaned back in her desk chair with a huff, her desire to work now absent. She grabbed the paper bag containing her paltry lunch and bolted from the room, desperate for fresh air. As she emerged onto the pavement, she walked toward a nearby park.

  After she found a bench underneath a tree, she pulled out an apple and a crumbly meat pasty. She considered her food that sat atop the paper bag on her lap. The sound of a few children laughing and playing in the park lightened her spirit, as did the birds trilling and the soft breeze that provided a respite from the heat. She jumped when someone joined her on the bench.

  “I knew you wanted to spend more time with me,” Octavius said. He nudged her shoulder, his smile fading as she failed to be pleased at his presence. “Mrs. Goff?”

  “Mr. Hooper, you know as well as I do that it is improper for us to have a friendship outside of any working arrangement.” She met his gaze, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “Although I have enjoyed your company, I cannot continue to associate with you.”