Page 71 of Gilded Locks

“A day of 25 people’s work. After we’ve already had delays and can expect more. It adds up.”

Lizzy shrugged. “I just thought a bit of fun would make everyone less cranky.”

Grace shook her head. “You can be so cold, Lizzy.”

“I’m not cold!” Lizzy huffed.

“Well, if you cared about anything other than what you deem to be fun and flirty, maybe I’d believe you.”

Lizzy recoiled like she’d been slapped.

“I… I care about more than that.”

Grace arched her eyebrows.

With her bottom lip trembling, Lizzy said, “One thing’s for sure. You’ve managed to zap all the fun out of today.” She flounced off.

Grace folded her arms, sulking a bit. She hadn’t meant to lash out at Lizzy. She’d known for a long time that her friend was callous, but Lizzy had never been malicious. Her lack of carewas universal. Not even the mayor’s opinions mattered to her, so she’d never balked at Grace’s choices, unless they impeded her fun.

But today, when the negative impact of the mayor’s actions were so clear, Grace couldn’t stand Lizzy’s dismissal of her concerns for the sake of the superficial.

And, perhaps, Grace had been a bit defensive because Lizzy had noticed her attraction to Garrick.

“Unhand me, you vagabond! I can do what I please. Get your grubby paws off of me!” The angry shouts in a familiar commanding tone sent Grace’s heart into panic. Someone was harming her friend! She searched for the offenders.

Two patrolmen lumbered into the town square, each gripping one of Willa Leroux’s arms, holding the petite young woman just high enough that her scrambling feet could only brush at the ground. Willa aimed a hard kick at the leg of the patrolman on the right.

Yes!Grace thought, face alight with angry satisfaction.

The man’s leg buckled. He caught himself, but the stumble brought Willa to the ground, and she dug the heels of her work boots into the cobbled ground, shouting in pain as her feet caught on a rather bulky stone in the cobbling. The patrolman who wasn’t limping laughed.

Grace took a step toward Willa, but Mother had moved to her side and placed a hand on her arm. “Your father has this in hand.”

But Lord Leroux was already standing in the path of the patrolmen. “Unhand my daughter.”

“But the mayor…”

Lord Leroux’s expression was fierce, and his five foot, five inches seemed to tower. “I said. Unhand. My. Daughter.” He punctuated each word, his voice deepening to a growl.

The patrolmen released Willa. She cursed at them, aiming a kick at the uninjured man for good measure. He jumped back and skittered toward the platform where Grace had just noticed the mayor, who stood glowering.

Her mouth dropped open.

The man looked feral. His eyes were bloodshot, his pale skin flushed. His once-long, golden hair was shorn short, so that uneven tufts of greasy, yellowish hair stuck out at odd angles. The cravat he’d been wearing was tied with an off-kilter knot. His sleeves, reaching down to his elbows, left him dripping with sweat in the late-summer heat. He still pressed his right arm tight to his body, and as he wobbled to the edge of his platform near Willa, he winced anytime his torso shifted.

What had happened to the man? He’d always been a bit bedraggled, but this… He looked unhinged. It wasn’t that long since she’d seen him, just over a week. What had caused such a rapid change?

The Rogue. It must be. Grace herself was familiar with the torment of constant worry about the masked rebel, though for different reasons. But was that sufficient? Did Grace just handle anxiety better, or had the mayor finally come to understand what his retribution against the Rogue would do to the town? The mayor might win the battle and hang his greatest enemy, but he would capsize his empire in the process.

Lord Leroux gathered Willa into his arms, and his wife joined them. The family walked proudly away from the platform, slipping into the crowd.

Scowling, the mayor addressed the crowd. “Let the games begin!” he roared.

Not even crickets chirped, so silent was the response.

“What’s this? No one is excited for this Day of Morale? No one?”

A few stalwart supporters offered hollow cheers, but even they petered out.

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