Free Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two by Ramona Flightner Page B

altered.
    “Richard?”
    “Yes, Miss Sullivan?”
    “I don’t want to hurt you,” I began, biting my lip. I played with the buttons adorning the skirts of my navy dress.
    “But you still want to tell me something,” he said with wary amusement. He sat across from me in the chair Da usually sat in. The plush red velvet wingback chair with wooden wings and woven cane work had recently been reupholstered.
    “Yes.” I sighed. “I want you to come to my school. I have a good friend there who I think once used to be a … an acquaintance of yours.”
    “I highly doubt a school marm is any friend of mine,” Richard contradicted with a laugh.
    “Her name is Florence Butler,” I whispered, watching him. He stilled, as I imagined an animal becomes motionless to prevent detection from its prey. His eyes betrayed him, a deep flash of emotion sparking in their icy-blue depths at her name.
    “Florence?” he murmured.
    “Yes, I thought you should know…” I stopped speaking when he held up a hand, silently asking me to desist.
    “I would think she hates me,” Richard said, a deep note of mourning in his voice.
    “I can’t answer for her, Richard. But from what I do understand, from what I have heard from her and pieced together from her interactions with Gabriel…” I paused for a moment as his eyes narrowed. “I believe you should speak with her. Try to overcome what happened in the past.”
    “Gabe has seen her? Knows where she works?”
    “Yes. It’s why we had to write letters in the spring. I didn’t want Florence to become uncomfortable with visits from him.”
    Richard sat in shocked silence, his eyes distant, unfocused. He finally raised haunted eyes to me. “After all I did to help him with you, why wouldn’t he help me?”
    I reached out to grip his hand. “Richard, it was never my intention to harm your relationship with Gabriel. He has only ever wanted to protect you.”
    “Protect me from the woman I love? Separate me from her?” Richard asked in an anger-laced voice.
    I held onto his hand, refusing to let go. “Richard, please. You must understand Gabriel’s animosity toward your aunt Masterson. Well, try to at least. I didn’t understand how awful she was until this summer.
    “Gabriel has such strong memories of your life with your parents. He would remember and compare those memories to the home, barren of love, provided by your aunt. He would dream, every day, of the life that had been lost. And feel the burden to make everything better so that you and Jeremy could have the life your parents dreamt of for you.”
    “You really love him, don’t you?” Richard asked, letting out a long, shaky sigh, the anger seeming to evaporate.
    I nodded with a tremulous smile.
    “Then why didn’t you tell him you loved him before he left?”
    “He knew how I felt, Richard,” I whispered, releasing his hand and sitting against the back of my chair.
    “So it would appear from your frequent letters.” Richard paused, watching me a moment. “He told me, one evening as he prepared to leave, how he had told you that he loved you, but you didn’t say it back.”
    “Would he have stayed if I’d said the words?” I gasped, dread filling me.
    Richard shook his head, unwilling to answer an unanswerable question. I sat, stunned into absolute silence. I looked toward Richard without seeing him, reliving scenes in my head. I quickly shook off the memories. “You’re very cunning you know,” I accused.
    “Why?”
    “I won’t allow you to make me forget our original topic,” I said, raising an eyebrow toward him.
    He smiled. “Yes, Florence.” He patted my hand a few times. “Let me think about it a while. There’s a good chance she won’t appreciate your meddling.”
    ***
    A FEW DAYS LATER, I prepared for a formal dinner at Savannah and Jonas’s. My maid, Mary, spent extra time on an elaborate chignon. My burgundy velvet dress was fitted through the bodice yet full at the waist and