Chapter Three
Drake did his best to dampen his lingering fury as he drove Miss Lacy home. He wanted to draw and quarter her attackers until they screamed for a mercy he’d not give. There was no need to imagine what would’ve happened had he and Sable not come along. He knew. Glancing over at the teacher as she sat silent on the seat between them, he wished for the power to turn back time and erase the terror he’d seen in her brown eyes when he’d approached. The incident wouldn’t be something she’d easily forget, and he wanted to punish the men for that as well. Yet, she hadn’t gone like a lamb to the slaughter. She’d fought back and that impressed him. The throat wound she’d given Appleton appeared serious enough to warrant medical attention. If Drake had his way, it would fester, rot, and never heal. A gruesome thought for a man raised in the Catholic faith but genuine for one descended from pirates.
By the time they reached the Treme, the Creole enclave on the edge of the Quarter, it was nearly dusk. In a short while, the New Orleans night would belong to those without shelter, drunken revelers, and the shadowy forces that preyed on both.
After receiving directions from her, he stopped the wagon in front of the Dumas’s small home.
“Thank you both again,” she said in a sincere voice and met Drake’s eyes.
Though Drake knew nothing about her, he realized he very much wanted to. Her accent wasn’t Southern, so where was home? Was she in the city alone? How long had she been there? Detaining her to satisfy his curiosity made no sense though. After the attack, she was probably of no mind to entertain frivolous conversation.
Sable’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Miss Lacy, if you need anything, let us know. The nuns are very familiar with the LeVeq family. In fact, my daughters are enrolled in their school.”
Drake added, “And I’m a volunteer at one of the Freedmen’s offices. If I can help you find another site, I will.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ve had an awful time collecting my stipend. I wish we’d met earlier. But under better circumstances.”
“So do I,” he said quietly, taking her in.Who are you, lovelyValinda? Will you have dinner with me?Instead of him asking the questions aloud, they discussed finding another place to teach. Although funding and building schools was part of the Bureau’s many tasks, places were being burned down as fast as they were established by those intent upon reinstating slavery. “Free space is at a premium.”
“I know.”
Because she impressed him as someone who’d want to know the truth, he added, “Now that you have no classroom, you may not qualify for another stipend until you find another.”
“Then that will present a problem.”
“Meaning?”
She explained her problem with Georgine Dumas.
“No one is going to allow you to end up on the street,” he told her. Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew the small tablet of paper he used for his field notes and a pencil. “If you need assistance at any time, these are the addresses of my Freedmen’s office and my brother Archer’s hotel, where we’re headed.” He handed the paper to her. He’d wanted to write down his home address, too, but knew that would be improper.
She gave him a small smile. “Thank you again. I feel as though I’ve said that a hundred times, but I can’t say it enough.”
“I’m just glad Sable and I were nearby.”
Sable climbed down from her seat to the street to allow the teacher to do the same.
Holding his gaze one last time, Miss Lacy said, “Goodbye.”
He nodded and watched her walk to the door. Once she was safely inside, his curiosity remained. Would he see her again? Now that he knew where she lived, could he call on her? His mother, the Lovely Julianna, was a patron of the Sisters. Might she know anything about her?
Sable waved a hand in front of his face. “Drake. We need to go. Rai and my children are waiting. You can think about seeing her again later.”
Embarrassed, he smiled and set the team in motion.
They arrived at Archer’s hotel a short while later. Upon entering, they walked through the small dining area and made their way to the back room. The LeVeq family was a large one and the noise of the gathering could be heard as they approached.
Applause and cheers rang out when Sable made her entrance. Drake chose an empty chair at the end of the elegantly set long table to allow the honoree her moment in the sun. Her husband, Raimond, grabbed her up, and swung her around into a deep, welcoming kiss. The moment he put her down she was swamped by their children: the fifteen-year-old twins, Cullen and Hazel; their younger sister, Blythe; and two-year-old Desiré, who scrambled off her grand-mère’s lap and ran to Sable shrieking, “Mama!” Sable scooped her up and hugged and kissed them all. Famous in the city for her work with orphans, she’d made the trip to Biloxi to escort three of her charges to a new, loving home. Drake, like the rest of the family, was glad she’d returned safely.
Drake was the third oldest son. Ahead of him were Archer and the eldest, Raimond. Their brother Gerrold, born between Raimond and Archer, lost his life during the war, and his high-spirited presence was sorely missed. Behind Drake in the line of LeVeq sons was Beau, then Phillipe, the youngest.
“So,” said Phillipe. “Have you figured out a way to kill Lieutenant Merritt, and not be blamed?”
Drake picked up one of the wine bottles placed atop the white-clothed table and poured a portion into his glass. “No. But I am working on it.”
They all knew of Drake’s frustration with the man. Their brother Raimond also had ties to the Bureau, but he’d left recently to devote more time to politics, and to the group of Black war veterans known as the Council.