Lucy shook her head. “You say you want to leave to keep me safe. Well I want to stay to keep you safe. If we run now, we’ll always be running. I want to be with you, I really do. But I don’t want to be looking over our shoulders for our whole lives. If you are ready to talk about a plan to get you free of him, let me know. I want a future with you. One that doesn’t involve Philip hunting you down.”
Finn’s eyes bore into hers, but he didn’t say anything.
Lucy gently pulled her hand from his grasp. “If you’ll excuse me, my school has its first visitor.”
She walked away, praying she was doing the right thing. Lucy glanced back at her little cottage, at Finn standing in the clearing, watching her with longing in his eyes. Her happily ever after. But if she wanted the fairy tale, she would have to get rid of the wicked king first.
…
Finn watched her walk away, toward Halford. The urge to grab her and run was so great he had to close his eyes to shut out the sight. It didn’t help that she was right. Leaving now would remove them from immediate danger, but they’d always be looking over their shoulders, always waiting for their pasts to catch up to them. He wanted better for her, better for them.
Which meant he needed to find a way to get Halford removed from the picture. A difficult task. If he could just kill the man, their problems would be solved. Finn didn’t feel the slightest qualm at the grim thought. The man deserved to die for the crimes he had committed, that he continued to commit. And Finn would do worse than murder to keep Lucy safe. The problem, well, one of them, aside from whatever lingering moral guilt that might worm its way into his heart, was that Halford was a well-known and well-respected member of society. His disappearance wouldn’t go unnoticed.
Finn frowned, watching Lucy escort Philip around the work site. She kept her distance from him, subtly pulling from his grasp when he’d reach to take her elbow or place a hand on her back. At least she had taken his warning about the man seriously. But she couldn’t help the excited animation in her face as she pointed out the features the schoolhouse would boast. She was pleased with her project, and had every right to be. Finn was immensely proud of her, and impressed at the strength of her character in the face of the opposition she must know she faced from the community.
What made him frown was the look on Halford’s face when Lucy wasn’t looking. The sneer of disgust when he looked at the workers, at the children. The very people Lucy intended to teach. When Lucy faced him, he was careful to show only polite interest.
Lucy caught his eye and sent him a look that let him know she was very well aware of Halford’s true feelings. That gave him some comfort. But not much.
No, if Finn wanted his freedom from Halford, he’d have to reveal the man for who he really was. A lecherous, black-hearted, corrupt piece of filth that didn’t deserve to walk down the same street as respectable folk, let alone be elected to lead them.
The other problem was that Halford was a master in covering his tracks. He might hold all the strings, but he had hundreds of puppets doing his bidding. And he was very, very good at making sure none of those strings led back to him. In fact, a great many of them would lead back to Finn himself. So any attempt to bring down Halford could effectively take Finn down as well.
Finn was willing to make the sacrifice if there was no other way to keep Lucy safe. But if he could find a way to get rid of Halford and leave himself free to be with Lucy, he wanted to find it.
In the meantime, he’d keep watch over her as he’d done since the moment she’d arrived back in his life. And he’d pray to the God he wasn’t sure he believed in to keep her safe.
Chapter Ten
The school hadn’t even been open for a day when the first incident occurred. Lucy had welcomed all the children who could attend bright and early. Many worked and couldn’t attend, but Lucy hoped they’d come at night with their parents. Finn had agreed to keep coming at night to help teach. Lucy assumed they’d have a larger crowd in the evenings, once work and chores were done.
The first morning, Lucy had been thrilled to find twenty students on the school’s steps. Mostly children, but a handful of the mothers wished to stay as well. Lucy welcomed them inside, her heart near to bursting as they took in the large schoolroom, set up with its rows of benches, large chalkboard set up in the front, a desk for Lucy, and even some pictures and maps that Lucy had found to adorn the walls.
Her new students entered eagerly and sat in their places, reverently touching the slates and new pieces of chalk in their special holders on the backs of the benches. The absolute best part of the morning was when Isaiah and Joshua walked in, holding the hand of their father. He shyly took a seat in the back of the room, Isaiah beaming next to him on the bench. Joshua ran over to the brand-new bookshelf that sat between two large windows. He ran a hesitant finger along the spines of the books that filled the shelves.
“Are these for us, miss?”
Lucy had to swallow a few times before she could speak past the lump in her throat. “They sure are.”
His smile was so wide the rest of his face almost disappeared. Lucy turned her back and dabbed at her eyes and then took her place at the front of the room. They spent a very productive morning going over some of the basics of the three R’s and Lucy was delighted to find that many of her students had at least a cursory knowledge of how to read and write. They were all bright and eager to learn, which made her job easy. A few of the adults left after an hour or so, but most of her students were able to stay until she released them at noon.
Lucy went about straightening the room, putting books back on the shelf, erasing the chalkboard, and getting everything ready for that evening’s classes. She’d just walked past one of the windows when something crashed through it, shattering one of the panes. Lucy jumped, her hand pressed to her racing heart, and turned to see what it was.
A brick, with the word hore scratched onto it. Lucy hurried to the window and looked out, hoping she could catch who’d done it. A few horses were riding away, but they were too far for Lucy to make out who they were.
Lucy glared down at the brick in her hand. “Ignorant jackasses. The least they could do is spell it right.”
Lilah rushed in. “Miz Lucy, you okay?” She took in the broken window and the brick in Lucy’s hand and shook her head, her lips pursed in resigned anger. “I told you, miss. Folks ’round these parts ain’t too happy with what you doing here.”
Lucy placed the brick on the bookcase and went to the small closet at the back of the room for a broom and dustpan. “They don’t have to be happy about it,” she said, sweeping up the glass. “I have every right to do as I please on my own property, and if I catch them on it again, I’ll make sure they know that I won’t stand for their harassment. They should be ashamed of themselves!”
Lilah gave her a sad smile, tinged with pity that sent a fresh rush of anger through Lucy. Not directed at Lilah, but at the people who put that look on her face. That look that said that she’d dealt with much worse and would do so again because that was just her lot in life. Lucy swept the glass into the dustpan that Lilah held for her, even more determined to make her school a success. She wouldn’t let those cowards win.
…
When Finn walked into the school, he immediately saw the broken pane of glass. Lucy’s stony face left no opening for questions, but Finn caught her eye, his brow raised. She nodded at him, gave him a small smile. She was okay. For now. But he was not. The incidents would get worse, he knew.
He hated it when he was right.
Over the next few weeks, small incidents continued to occur. Rocks through the windows. Filthy words painted on the side of the schoolhouse. Once, someone broke down the door and spread manure all over the benches. The worse the situation became, the closer of an eye Finn tried to keep on her. Lucy didn’t make this easy. She refused his help nearly every time he offered. She wouldn’t let him accompany her to the market, though even that simple task had taken on a
sinister tone. The shop owner who’d once treated Lucy with kindness and respect now barely looked her in the eye, slamming her purchases onto the counter with barely concealed contempt. It was all Finn could do to keep from marching into the shop and throttling the man. Along with everyone else who uttered snide comments or turned hateful gazes her way.
A few acquaintances remained friendly, but not one commended her for what she was doing. Not one offered to help. And not one person defended her from the malicious remarks more and more people aimed in her direction.
Yet each time something happened, Finn saw Lucy’s resolve strengthen, her determination to make the school a success, and make the community accept it, grow stronger. She walked down the streets with her head held high, insisting on fighting her own fights, and refusing to allow him to retaliate in any way. She did her best to ignore the cruel treatment that grew more hateful by the day and she showed up to teach each morning with renewed energy and vigor. By God, the woman amazed him. She was extraordinary, pure and simple. But she was human, and he knew the continuous harassment was wearing on her.
One night he entered the school to find that the window had yet again been broken. Lucy had stubbornly replaced each window that had been shattered, but if this kept up, there wouldn’t be any glass left in all of North Carolina. After the last incident, Finn had installed sturdy shutters over the windows, but those apparently hadn’t helped. The hooligans had just darted in during the dark of night, broken the shutters into kindling, and then went to work on the windows. Finn also worried that after a time these simple scare tactics wouldn’t be enough for the perpetrators. Soon, they might decide that more drastic measures were necessary. Lucy still pigheadedly believed that they would back down once they saw she wasn’t going anywhere. Finn knew better. And he was terrified for her. It was happening again. The woman he loved was in danger and his failure to save her from it gnawed at him like a starving beast.
He didn’t mention it until the last of their students had left for the night. By the time he’d said good night to the last student and closed the schoolhouse door, his emotions were at a boiling point. Lilah looked back and forth between the two of them and slipped out the door with a hurried wave of good-bye.
Lucy grabbed the broom and set herself to sweeping the floor though there was hardly a speck on it. Finn watched her for a moment but she resolutely kept her gaze on her task. The silence stretched so thick between them he could scarcely breathe. When he could stand it no more, he marched to her and grasped the broom.
She glanced at him then, just long enough to shoot him a glare that should have incinerated him on the spot. Then she let go of the broom and tried to walk away, but Finn grabbed her arm.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Finn. It was just a stupid prank.”
“How many times has this happened now? They aren’t going to stop, Lucy. And next time—”
“You don’t know that there will be a next ti—”
Glass splintered and fiery droplets rained down on them as a wine bottle with a lit rag sailed over their heads and crashed into one of the benches behind them. The liquid in the shattered bottle splattered, igniting the bench and floor.
“No!” Lucy screamed. She ripped the curtains down from the window and began beating at the fire. Finn did the same, smothering the flames until they went out, leaving the bench and floor charred.
Finn ran for the door, but whoever had thrown the bottle had fled. “Miserable little cowards,” he muttered, adrenaline coursing through his system so fiercely his heart was about to jump from his chest. He searched the tree line, watching for any sign of movement, but there was none. The clearing was dark and silent and Finn was suddenly acutely aware of how alone he and Lucy were.
He wished she’d stayed in the hotel, surrounded by people, where he could look after her. They weren’t far from town; she’d wanted to be close enough that her students wouldn’t have any difficulty getting to her. But they were far enough away that no one would hear her scream if she needed help.
He went back inside, determined to talk some sense into her, but the sight of her stopped him short. She’d grabbed a bucket and scrub brush and was trying to clean the charred surface of the bench and floor. She plunged a blistered hand into the bucket and then went back to scrubbing, ignoring the tears that streamed down her face.
“Lucy,” he said, quietly sinking down beside her. She stopped scrubbing but she didn’t look up.
“Lucy,” he said again, reaching over to take the brush from her hands.
“No.” She jerked away from him and went back to scrubbing. “I don’t want them to see this. When they come tomorrow. I don’t want them to know.”
He reached over again and grabbed the brush before she could jerk it away. “Let me.”
She looked up at him, the sorrow in her eyes breaking his heart.
“I’ll do it. You rest a moment.”
She waited until he started scrubbing before she slumped back against a bench, staring at the floor, though he didn’t think she saw it. Her hands lay carefully in her lap. He stopped scrubbing and gently took her hand in his, his gut clenching at the blisters on her skin.
“Just a moment,” he said, going to her desk and grabbing the vase of flowers she’d set there. He took it into the yard, dumped it, and refilled it with clean, cool water from the pump near the door. When he brought it back in, Lucy was still sitting staring at the floor but she’d stopped crying. He took that as a good sign.
Finn set the vase next to her and eased her hand into the water. Lucy let out a sigh and closed her eyes.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He understood why she wanted to keep the incident from the students, and he even agreed with it. But he hated to see her there, hurt and disheartened. However, he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t let him focus on her until the task was done, so he set about putting the room to rights as quickly as he could. The leftover whitewash sat in the closet and he pulled that out and touched up the scorch marks and made sure all the broken glass was swept up and disposed of.
As soon as everything was touched up and readied for the next day, Finn knelt beside Lucy. She hadn’t said a word while he’d gone about cleaning up. It worried him. Lucy was never at a loss for words. He cupped her cheek, turning her face until she looked at him.
“Why are they doing this?” she asked quietly. “We aren’t harming anyone here. Why do they care if a bunch of former slaves can read and write? What possible difference does it make to them?”
Finn shook his head. “I wish I could tell you, love. I suspect it’s easier to not say anything, to look the other way. Or to go along with those who make the loudest noise. That’s why good people like you are needed in the world.”
Finn smiled down at Lucy, warmth spreading through him when she returned it with a small one of her own.
“Come on, lass. Let’s get you to bed.”
Finn stood and pulled Lucy to her feet, then swept her into his arms, ignoring her squeaked protest.
“Hush. None of that. Just let me take care of you for once, will you?”
Lucy’s forehead crinkled as she looked at him, as if he were a puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out. But she relaxed in his arms and allowed him to carry her to her little house behind the school.
By the time he’d gotten to her front door, he was huffing and puffing a little more than he cared to admit. The bright side was that it brought a smile to Lucy’s face, albeit a small one.
“Are your muscles failing you, Mr. Taggart?” she asked, one corner of her mouth turned up in a saucy grin.
“Ock, my muscles are as brawny as always. Perhaps you’ve put on a few pounds since last I saw you.”
Lucy gasped and slapped at him with her good hand, but a bit of her usual twinkle had returned to her eyes.
She helpfully unlatched the door for him and he entered, kicking it closed behind him. He looked around, having never been in her home. He
could tell immediately who dwelled there. The room had a small sitting area on one side, an overstuffed chair pulled close to the fireplace and a small sofa angled to catch both the warmth of the hearth and the eye of whomever sat before the fire. A dining table, chairs, and the kitchen took up the rest of the space.
All was clean and tidy, homey but uncluttered, decorated in shades of yellows, browns, and reds. Organized to the point of obsession, with everything in its proper place, yet the space was inviting and welcoming, like Lucy was herself.
He could picture himself in this home. Sitting before the fire in that big chair, Lucy bustling about in the kitchen. Or better yet, settled in his lap, her fingers twining in his hair, tilting her head up for his kiss.
Finn cleared his throat, trying to erase the image from his mind. Now wasn’t the time. Not yet. Not until he was free.
“Bedroom?”
“In the back,” Lucy said, pointing to a door off the kitchen he hadn’t noticed.
Finn carried her into her room and placed her on the large four-poster bed. Lucy sank into her pillows with a grateful sigh and Finn turned to fill the blue-and-white china basin from its matching ewer. He carried it carefully to the bed and Lucy sank her hand into it without prompting from him.
Her breath hissed out and she closed her eyes.
“We need to put something on that. Have you any salve?”
Lucy shook her head and Finn frowned at her.
“Stop frowning at me,” she said, though she hadn’t opened her eyes.
“Know me that well, do you?”
She cracked open one lid and peeked at him. “Yes, I do. Now don’t go busting my britches. I haven’t lived here long and I spend most of my time at the school. I haven’t had the chance to stock all the necessaries just yet. Lilah will have some. She’s just down the lane a ways.”
Finn stood. “I’ll go and fetch some.”
Lucy grabbed his hand before he could leave. “Wait. Don’t go just yet.”
All playfulness had left her voice, leaving her sounding young and scared.
Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous) Page 50
