Page 28 of Deception and Desire
With a shake of her head, she backed up from the window and hurried to the office. This was a different world. While she didn’t condone violence, she also understood that the MacNaughtons were protecting their livelihood. Those ruffians needed to spend their energy at the mills that took advantage of their workers. Yes, she was sure her employers had been justified.
Fenella sat down behind the desk and picked up the first pile of invoices, put the tip of the pencil to her tongue, and began recording and tallying numbers. Contentment seeped through her. An unbidden smile curved her lips and would not fade. With a satisfied sigh, she shuffled the first set of papers and started on the payments received.
*
Lachlan dunked hisfist in the cold water and winced. “Weel, that was a braw thrashing. I’ve no’ enjoyed myself so much since Ross Craigg called foul when I beat him in the hill race for the third year in a row. I bet he thinks of me every time he sees his crooked nose staring back at him.” He dipped his neckcloth in the bucket, wrung it out, and wrapped it around his hand, grinning at his brother. “Thank ye for calling me to help, Ian. Ye ken I needed that.”
“Yer welcome. Those jackanapeses need to focus on the factories hiring the immigrants. I heard the new cotton mill hired the Irish and only pay half the wages we do.” Ian wrung out a cloth and gingerly wiped at a split lip. “There are legitimate organizations that try to be the voice for the poor and working destitute. Those pieces of shite wanted paymentnotto defend them.”
“They’ll be licking their wounds for a while, but I willna be surprised if they come back with reinforcement.” Lachlan looked forward to it. One whistle would bring fifty men of Clan MacNaughton onto the dock in minutes.
“Dinna forget to tend yer eye, Ian. It’ll be a bonnie blue tomorrow.” Colin ducked at the bloody cloth headed for his face. “What?”
“How do ye manage not to get a scratch?” Ian asked, glaring up at his cousin.
“It’s his height. They canna reach his ugly head.” Lachlan was always glad to have his cousin at his side in a brawl. “Besides, we were about finished by the time he arrived.”
“Bloody hell ye were,” bellowed Colin. “I’m the reason the rest of them took to their heels.”
Lachlan touched the back of his scalp and felt the sticky warmth of blood. “That feckin’ dung beetle had a head like a boulder.”
“Let me call Sorcha to look at that, Lachlan. Ye might need a poultice.” Ian summoned one of the boys and sent the lad off with a message.
“Och, it’s nothing a good bottle of whisky willna cure, eh Colin?”
Sorcha MacDunn didn’t agree. A tall, middle-aged, buxom woman with dark, slightly frizzy hair bustled around the storeroom. After examining all three, she declared Colin and Ian were fit to continue their day and shooed them off. Lachlan needed a compress and some rest.
“If ye dinna listen to me, it will be the worse for ye, laddie,” she said with authority. “I’ve seen these head injuries before. Ye think all is well, then the glee of the victory wears off and ye’re hitting the floor.” She finished winding a bandage around his forehead to keep the compress in place. “Now go to the office and sit down or go home. I’m only giving ye the two choices and telling Ian myself.”
Lachlan was about to argue when he remembered Miss Franklin. He pictured her sitting in the office, her beautiful face bent over a ledger. “I wouldna dream of going against ye, Sorcha. I’ll go up directly and sit for a wee spell.”
The woman nodded but her brown eyes narrowed. “Laddie,” she called to the young boy who had fetched her, and ruffled his red hair, “follow him upstairs and come tell me if he goes anywhere but the office.”
With a chuckle, Lachlan stood and kissed her on the cheek. “I wish ye were twenty years younger, Sorcha. We’d have made a formidable pair.”
She beamed and swatted his arm. “Off with ye, ye impertinent cur. And ye couldna have handled metenyears ago!”
Lachlan made it halfway up the second flight when the stairs began to spin. He put his palm against the wall and steadied himself.
“Do ye need help, Mr. MacNaughton?” asked the boy, his dark eyes wide.
Pain stabbed the back of his head and shot through his eyes. He nodded. “Aye,” was all he could get out.
The boy disappeared, and Lachlan steadied his deep breath. His stomach churned when he tried to take another step. He closed his eyes.Shite!Without moving, his body seemed to tumble like a water wheel. He opened his eyes and focused on his shoe and waited, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. A swish sound and the flash of navy blue.
“Mr. MacNaughton, let me take your arm,” said a low, sweet voice in his ear. “Continue to brace yourself with the wall and lean on me with your other arm.”
He nodded, letting her words penetrate the fog in his brain.
“We have ten steps, and we’ll be to the office. Are you ready?” asked the angel at his side. “One foot at a time.”
A groan escaped as he raised a leg, clutching the wall and her shoulder. He could only focus on the next stair or the spinning and nausea increased. His other leg joined the first.Sweet Jesu!How many times did he have to do this?
Then the gentle voice began again, and he concentrated on her words.
“Step up. That’s it. The other leg now… good.”
She allowed him a couple breaths. “Step up. That’s it. Now the other leg… very good.”
