Free Elysium: The Plantation Series Book IV by Gretchen Craig Page B

…"
Lily began.
    "I want to see him."
    Mr. Chamard gave Lily a
slight shake of the head. She agreed with him. Whether it was appropriate or
not, however, was not an argument likely to sway Musette.
    "Musette, Thomas is
badly hurt, his head must ache awfully, he looks a fright. He doesn’t want you
to see him like this."
    Musette fisted her hands.
    Rachel appeared at the
door to the sitting room. Had she been listening? Did she know how Musette felt
about her son?
    "Thomas not seeing
nobody today, Miss Musette. Nor tomorrow neither."
    "Rachel, I just want
– "
    Rachel shook her head,
her tall square body blocking the door. "He’s not seeing nobody today."
    Musette wilted. Lily
worried she might wilt all the way to the floor, but Mr. Chamard stood and
grasped her arm.
    "We will enquire
again to see how he does." Mr. Chamard guided Musette to the front door. "Good
day, Mrs. Palmer."
    Rachel watched them out
the window.
    "You haven’t slept
at all, have you, Rachel? Let me feed you and then you go to bed. I’ll sit with
Thomas."
    "I guess I am
hungry, now you mention it," Rachel said softly, still watching the young
woman who so hopelessly loved her boy.
    "Come on then. I’ll
warm up the coffee and fix you a plate."

Chapter Eight
    Alistair stared at the
still-smoking ruins of the little school. From the outside, he supposed he
looked quite calm. From the outside, he probably seemed unmoved.
    Underneath, however,
Alistair burned. They’d set fire to the building with a young woman asleep in
the back room. They’d have known that. The school teacher most always boarded
at the school house.
    This new group, the
Knights of the White Camellia. This was the kind of thing they got up to,
though perhaps a little more ambitious than most of their activities. They were
determined to prevent the ex-slaves from exercising any power whatsoever. The fools
somehow thought they could reverse four years of slaughter and heartache to
restore the South to its delusional purity.
    The Knights were likely
all men he knew, some of them men whom Alistair had called friends. They were
school mates, cousins, fellow soldiers. Prosperous, influential men. Perhaps
untouchable men. The
Knights would not welcome riff raff like Jacques Valmar, but it had been him at the ice cream raid.
    When the school house was
first built, the paint bright, the windows shining, Alistair had been there to
welcome the children the first morning. Fanny Brown had proudly rung her bell,
calling them to come learn your letters, come learn your numbers, and Alistair
had felt this little white building to be a sacred place. As sacred as any
church he’d ever been in. This was the way to end bondage in fact as well as in
the letter of the law.
    Six poor white children
came here as well. The raiders would rather deny even white children an
education than see a black child learn to read. He pinched the bridge of his
nose. He was not blameless. He had owned slaves, as had his father and his
father’s father. He had been too proud to marry Nicolette when his whole being
yearned for her because even though she looked white, it was known her blood
was tainted. And he had waited until after the war to build this schoolhouse. He’d
planned it for years, well before the war, but he had not done it.
    Nicolette had been right
to turn him down. She hadn’t loved him, but just as important – he had slowly
and painfully come to understand – he hadn’t deserved her, even as his
mistress.
    The war had burned that
ugliness out of him if it did nothing else. He wanted to do better. He wanted
all of them to do better.
    He stared at the
smoldering ruin. All he could do was rebuild. When the embers cooled, they’d
tear it down and start over, maybe make it bigger this time. Meanwhile, Fanny
could keep school in the ballroom. It was big enough, and his mother was away
so she would not be here to squawk about it.
    First thing he needed to
do was hire some guards and train them so they