Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01] (41 page)

Kiara ran from the room with Jasmine close on her heels, calling her name. Obviously unable to comprehend the situation,

Paddy remained in place, staring after the two women.

‘‘Get on with you!’’ Bradley shouted. ‘‘Get back to the barn.’’

Startled, Paddy darted from the room like a fox being chased by hounds.

‘‘How much did you want for the boy’s contract?’’ Malcolm inquired.

‘‘I want to be fair,’’ Bradley replied, producing Lord Palmerston’s original paper work.

Malcolm examined the papers and said, ‘‘I’ll give you an extra fifty dollars for the room and board you’ve provided since his arrival.’’ ‘‘Of course, he did receive excellent training in handling horseflesh,’’ Bradley submitted.

‘‘An additional seventy-five.’’

‘‘Agreed.’’ Bradley felt a sense of smug satisfaction at the arrangement. Malcolm wasn’t such a shrewd businessman. Bradley would have taken nothing for the boy. It appeared matters of business were improving. ‘‘Now, then, shall we begin working on the ledgers?’’

Jasmine couldn’t keep pace with Kiara, and by the time she rounded the house, the girl was nowhere to be seen. Her cries for Kiara went unanswered even though she called out that there was a solution for Paddy’s predicament.

Realizing Kiara likely didn’t believe her, Jasmine continued searching and calling until her voice became hoarse. Frustrated by her failed attempts, Jasmine finally made her way to the stable, where she found Paddy huddled in a corner. She pulled him into a warm embrace and carefully explained that he would not be sent to The Willows.

‘‘My father has purchased your papers and will send you to live with Grandmother. You’ll be able to see Kiara and, if you like, I know Grandmother will permit you to work at the stables in Lowell. I’m certain they’d be delighted to have you.’’

‘‘And do ya think they’d be payin’ me?’’ he asked with a glimmer in his eyes.

‘‘Of course they would,’’ Jasmine replied.

‘‘Then I’ll save up me coins until I can buy Kiara’s papers from Mr. Bradley,’’ he vowed.

‘‘As soon as you see Kiara, explain to her there’s no need to worry and it’s safe to come back to the house. Will you do that?’’

‘‘Yes, ma’am, and thank ya fer yar kindness.’’

For several hours, Bradley and Malcolm were hunched over the ledgers. They had gone over each entry, discussing the accounting procedures and computations.

‘‘I think I’ll go upstairs and get a cigar from my room, if you don’t mind. I need to stretch my legs after all this sitting,’’ Malcolm said.

‘‘Not at all,’’ Bradley replied. He leaned back in his chair. The explanations had gone well. There was only one final ledger page remaining, and it appeared Malcolm had detected nothing out of the ordinary. Bradley was pleased—especially since he’d already spent the funds he had stolen from his father-in-law.

Considering its unpleasant beginning, this day was now exceeding all expectations. He’d managed to make extra money from the sale of Paddy’s contract, and he could now use the leverage with Kiara that if she wanted her brother back, she’d have to grant him favors. The only sour note remaining was the fact that he was going to miss out on the additional funds he’d previously been skimming from Malcolm. He had Jasmine to blame for that loss. If she and her grandmother would have kept their noses out of his business matters, this would have never occurred.

‘‘Interfering women,’’ he muttered contemptuously.

He sat forward and began to turn the final page. It was stuck.

Horrified by the discovery, he took his letter opener and carefully pried the corner of the pages. Gently, he loosened the sheets until they finally separated. He stared down at the pages, with his disbelieving gaze focused upon the entries that had been smudged and transferred onto the opposite page. He could hear Malcolm’s approaching footsteps and closed the book with a resounding crack.

‘‘I’m ready for dinner. Why don’t we take a break from this drudgery for a while? I’m sure working with these numbers is hard on your eyes.’’

‘‘Nonsense, Bradley. We’re nearly done. We can surely wait another half hour to have our dinner.’’

Bradley pushed away from the desk, his face forming a scowl.

‘‘This is my home, Malcolm, and I think I should be the one who decides when we will take our meals. And we are going to eat dinner now.’’

Malcolm stared at him as though he were a lunatic. ‘‘If you’re that determined, go right ahead. I’ll stay here and complete the ledger work on my own.’’

‘‘Absolutely not! We’ll resume when I say we will.’’ He jumped up from his chair and stormed from the room, the book tucked securely beneath his arm.

C
HAPTER
•
29

B
RADLEY RACED
up the steps two at a time and retreated to the sanctuary of his bedroom, uncertain how he would handle this sudden glitch in his plans. Pulling a small case from beneath his bed, he unlocked the clasp and placed the ledger inside before retrieving a piece of stationery from his maple writing desk.

He thought for a moment and then dipped his pen and spoke aloud as he wrote. ‘‘‘Dear Jasmine, I have been called away’ . . . no, that’s not good,’’ he muttered, quickly taking out a new sheet of paper. ‘‘‘Urgent business has developed. I must be away for several days,’ ’’ he wrote, nodding his head. That sounded much better. He continued scrawling the note, adding an apology to Malcolm for his hasty departure and giving his regrets that he would not be available to accompany his father-in-law to the docks in Boston. In a hasty postscript, he thanked Malcolm for his willingness to take Paddy to The Willows and wished him well in his endeavor to teach the boy a proper work ethic.

He gave the letter a cursory reading, folded it, and placed it atop his bed. Uncertain of Jasmine’s whereabouts, he knew he dare not take the letter to her room and risk the likelihood of facing her. Without time for thoughtful consideration, he quickly packed a few belongings in a satchel and crept down the back stairway and out to the stables.

A dappled gray mare had been saddled in readiness for her daily exercise routine, and Bradley’s spirits buoyed at his good fortune. Tying his bag to the back of the saddle, Bradley gave a self-satisfied grunt. His luck had obviously changed for the better. He untied the horse and was lifting his foot toward the stirrup when a hand clasped his arm in a tight grip.

‘‘Mr. Houston, I’m beggin’ ya, please do na send Paddy away. You should na be punishin’ the boy and takin’ yar anger out on him when ’tis
me
ya’re angry with.’’

Lustrous black hair fell around Kiara’s face in soft wispy curls, highlighting the beauty of her creamy white complexion. Bradley could not resist. With a rough jerk, he pulled her into his arms.

‘‘So now you finally realize the power I hold over you,’’ he snarled, his lips coming down hard and crushing her mouth in a brutal kiss.

She struggled against his assault, but her resistance caused him to desire her all the more.

He attempted to capture her lips in another cruel kiss, but she pushed hard against his chest, freeing her mouth. His anger intensified as she bent her head forward and positioned it against his chest in an effort to fend him off.

‘‘Stop! Ya have no right ta hurt me!’’ she hollered while twisting against his hold.

He heard a rustling sound but didn’t have time to turn around before a shocking pain jolted through his skull. His eyes grew wide as the tremor of pain sped throughout his entire body. He stumbled and fell backward.

‘‘Paddy!’’ Kiara screamed over the neighing of the spooked mare.

Bradley grasped his head, momentarily dazed but quickly regaining his senses. Crawling toward Paddy, he reached for the boy’s shirt, missing it, but finally gained enough strength to get on his feet. His arms flailed as dizziness overtook him and he stumbled backward.

‘‘Look out for the mare!’’ Paddy hollered as Bradley fell beneath the horse.

Kiara screamed and pulled Paddy to her side. ‘‘Oh, Paddy, what are we gonna do?’’ She stared down at Bradley. He lay on the hay-strewn floor with blood pouring from the wound on his face where the horse had kicked him. ‘‘He’s dead. Of that there is no doubt,’’ she hoarsely whispered.

‘‘We did na do anything wrong, Kiara. He was attackin’ ya, and I hit him with the shovel, but ’twas the horse what killed him.’’

‘‘They’ll never believe us, Paddy,’’ she cried. ‘‘I fear they’ll accuse ya of murder after all the mean things Mr. Houston said about ya. He told Mr. Wainwright what a bad little feller ya are and that ya’re hard to manage. No doubt they’ll believe the worst.’’

A rustling caused Kiara to turn toward the stable door, where Jasmine Wainwright stood with a pistol in her hand. ‘‘Oh, Miss Jasmine! Please don’ kill ’im,’’ she screamed, pushing Paddy behind her skirts.

Jasmine’s eyes grew wide and she arched her brows.
‘‘Kill him?’’
She lay the weapon down and walked to Kiara and Paddy. ‘‘I was outside the stable. I heard and saw everything that went on in here. I know what’s been happening, Kiara. I haven’t known long, but I know how Bradley has been tormenting you. Since the day I discovered what he was doing, I prayed that God would release you from this misery. I believe this accident is God’s way of interceding.’’

‘‘Why do ya have that gun?’’ Paddy asked.

‘‘I didn’t want Bradley to leave. I wanted him to come in and talk to my father and me. But I thought the only way he’d consent was if I threatened him,’’ she admitted. ‘‘Bradley has been making many people miserable with his behavior, and I’ve prayed God would change him and soften his heart. I did not love him, but I wanted him to become a better man.’’

‘‘Aye, ’twould have been easier for all of us had he been a better man,’’ Kiara agreed. ‘‘I believe there are those what would argue Paddy’s blow with the shovel is what caused yar husband’s death. I do na think this will be so simple as you think. ’Twould be best for Paddy to run from here.’’

‘‘No need,’’ Malcolm declared as he walked into the barn. ‘‘Nothing but an accident. Pure and simple.’’

‘‘That’s right,’’ Jasmine agreed. ‘‘Nothing but an accident.’’

C
HAPTER
•
30

F
EW TEARS
were shed at Bradley Houston’s funeral. It was, by Lowell standards, a small gathering. Alice was in attendance, Nolan came from Boston, and Malcolm delayed his return to Mississippi in order to lend his support to Jasmine. A few of the Boston Associates made their appearance, along with a smattering of Lowell residents. Most came to offer Jasmine support rather than to honor Bradley—she knew this well enough. Jasmine cried briefly as the service got underway. For the first time in her life she mourned the fact that someone did not know the Lord and cared nothing for God’s truth.

Jasmine had not been exceedingly strong in her faith prior to her marriage, but now it seemed to be the only means of holding her life together. It comforted her to know that God’s hand was upon her—that He truly cared for her just as He had cared for Job.

She thought of a verse from the thirteenth chapter of Job, remembering it in part. ‘‘Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.’’
And
I will,
Jasmine thought. She would go on trusting the Lord, come what may.

The preacher offered a brief sermon, talking of the resurrection of Jesus and how all those who put their trust in Him would rise again. But Jasmine knew her husband had not come to know

God during his lifetime. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she had failed to guide Bradley into God’s saving grace. Bradley had known the truth, but he had chosen to reject God’s plan for redemption. And now he would pay the ultimate price—throughout eternity.

Kiara tugged on the sheet and tucked the corner under the thin mattress that lined her cot. Several days had passed since the funeral, and life had returned to a calm ebb and flow. Pleasant— much like the days when Bradley had been gone to Boston on business. From all appearances, Jasmine’s words had been true.

Nothing was going to happen to Paddy. Bradley was dead and buried, and no one had come forward asking any questions about his death. Mr. Wainwright had returned home to Mississippi, leaving Paddy to continue working in the Houston stables. And although Nolan remained in Lowell, he seemed more concerned about Jasmine and the baby than his brother’s death.

Straightening the blanket with her open palm, Kiara gave one final pat to the bed. She owed Jasmine Houston a great deal, yet she’d not offered her mistress so much as a word of thanks.

‘‘It’s high time ya got in there,’’ she chided herself. After tapping on Jasmine’s bedroom door, she hesitated a moment and then peeked around the corner. ‘‘May I come in, ma’am?’’

‘‘Of course, Kiara. I’m always pleased to have you visit me. It’s been too long since we’ve had a chat.’’

‘‘I’ve come ta offer me thanks for what ya did for me and Paddy. I’ve never said it, but I hope ya know how much it means ta me that ya didn’t hold the boy responsible for yar husband’s death.’’

‘‘Of course I know. There’s no doubt you love your brother as much as I love Spencer, and I know how I would feel if someone threatened to take him away from me.’’

‘‘Thank ya for understandin’. Now can I ask ya how ya happened to be outside the stables that day?’’

‘‘Several nights before Bradley’s death, I was awakened by the sound of voices in the nursery. I went to the door and heard Bradley threatening you. I listened, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. I finally understood what had been happening right under my nose all these months.’’

Tears trickled down Kiara’s cheeks. ‘‘I promise ya, ma’am, I never acted unseemly or encouraged him. I did na want his sinful advances,’’ she sobbed.

Jasmine pulled her into a comforting embrace. ‘‘I believe you, Kiara. Please don’t cry. I know you were trying to protect Paddy.

I heard Bradley making arrangements to sell Paddy to my father and took matters into my own hands. I asked my father to buy Paddy’s papers and then turn him over to Grandmother. We were going to have him work at the stables in town and live with Grandmother so you would still be able to visit with him.’’