Words Spoken True (19 page)

Then, Henrietta, lost in her own darkness, drank her poison, and hours later, Adriane tried to wake her and could not. In the days that followed, the length of Adriane’s hair became less and less important until it was as if she’d never cut her hair at all. Of course some of the newsboys had called her Jim long after her hair grew back out, but only when her father wasn’t around to hear.

Now as Adriane looked up each time the door opened, half hoping and half dreading to see her father, she feared his rage over her decision not to marry Stanley might match that rage of long ago. He wouldn’t understand. He’d already dismissed her doubts as so much romantic nonsense. He was in thicker with Coleman Jimson every day as the man’s election and the purposes of the Know Nothing party consumed him and the
Tribune
. He would not forgive Adriane’s rebellion easily or soon.

Adriane tried without much luck to push it all out of her mind as she fixed the workers sandwiches and wrote down the reports pouring in from the streets. A little after one o’clock, Duff reported the German and Irish men were finally beginning to give up and leave the polls.

“The sun’s too hot,” he said before gulping down a glass of water. “And the crowds of Know Nothings blocking the polls keeps growing. When somebody they aim to let cast a vote shows up, they just lift him up over their heads and pass him inside.”

Duff grabbed a sandwich and was gone again almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. When the door banged open again minutes later, she and Beck both looked up expecting to see Duff back with some bit of news he’d forgotten to tell them, but it wasn’t Duff. It was Stanley.

He’d lost his hat, and a few strands of pale blond hair looped down over his forehead. His face was flushed and damp with perspiration. Even the knot of his cravat was a bit off center.

“What is this?” His voice was high and strained as he rushed across the room toward Adriane, wildly waving the letter in front of him.

Adriane stood to meet him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Beck easing over to the composing table where the gun lay.

“I believe the letter is self-explanatory,” she said.

“This is a breach of promise, Adriane.” Stan shook the letter in her face.

“Calm down, Stanley,” Adriane said.

“Calm down?” Stan’s voice went up to a squeak. “Calm down? What are people going to say when they hear I’ve been spurned by Wade Darcy’s daughter? Wade Darcy who doesn’t have a nickel to his name. Wade Darcy who would have lost the
Tribune
months ago if he hadn’t been riding on my father’s coattails.”

Adriane squared her shoulders and stared straight at Stan. “I daresay they will say you’ve made a lucky escape if Wade Darcy’s daughter is so very unsuitable.”

Stanley leaned toward Adriane until his face was inches from hers. So close that she felt the moisture of his words when he spoke. “Unsuitable or not, I intend to have you for my wife. This letter means nothing.”

Adriane didn’t give ground to him as she pushed out her voice strong and sure. “That letter means just what it says. I will not marry you, Stanley. If it will save your injured pride, I am perfectly willing to have you say you broke the engagement. Wade Darcy’s daughter surely has little pride in any case.”

He grabbed her and shook her as he shouted, “You have no right to end our agreement. I won’t allow it.”

“Take your hands off the girl.” Beck’s voice was cold as he poked the gun against Stanley’s ribs. “I’d rather not pull the trigger, sir, but I will if I have to.”

Stanley’s eyes flicked over to Beck’s face and then down to the gun. Very deliberately he turned loose of Adriane and backed up. “You, my dear man, will live to regret this.”

“I doubt it,” Beck said. “Now I advise you to get out of here.”

Stanley looked back at Adriane again, and there was something chilling in his eyes. “You have been promised to me, Adriane. A few words on a sheet of paper cannot change that. You’re mine.”

Adriane found her voice. “They have already changed it, Stanley. Now please do as Beck says and leave. I have nothing more to say to you.”

“And your father? Will he have nothing more to say to me or my father either?” Stanley spoke calmly enough now, but somehow he sounded even more threatening than he had when he was shouting.

“I will not marry you,” Adriane said firmly. “That is my decision to make, and I have made it.”

Stan surprised Adriane by laughing suddenly. “Women. You’re such foolish creatures and so easily controlled.”

“Was your sister so easily controlled? Or your mother?”

He looked puzzled for a moment before comprehension dawned in his eyes. “So you did overhear my conversation with Margaret in the garden. Pauline said you looked a bit discomfited when you rushed away that night.” He looked at her, his wide smile anything but pleasant as he smoothed his hair back into place and straightened his collar and cravat. “That’s good. You need to know the lengths I will go to get what I want. And I want you, Adriane.” His eyes swept down her body.

Beck waved the gun at Stanley menacingly. “If you don’t get out of here, mister, you ain’t never going to get anything you want again unless’n you want to be dead.”

Stanley’s arm slashed out and slammed the gun out of Beck’s hand. He mashed his forearm tight against Beck’s neck and shoved him up against the wall. “Threaten me, old man, and you’ll be the one who ends up dead.”

Adriane grabbed the gun off the floor and leveled it straight at Stanley. “Let him go, Stanley.”

Stanley turned Beck loose and brushed himself off. When he had his jacket straightened once again, he looked from Adriane to the gun. “I doubt you even know how to use that, but it doesn’t matter. You seem to be in need of some time to come to your senses.”

“My mind is made up. Nothing can change that.”

“Nothing?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “My dearest Adriane, I’m sure there is something. Perhaps your father . . .” He let his final words trail off.

“No, Stanley, not even my father.”

He looked toward the window. “The streets are very dangerous today.” He turned his eyes back toward her and smiled as if they were talking about nothing more important than whether it might rain. “Anything could happen out there. Somebody might even get shot.”

“You wouldn’t hurt my father,” Adriane said.

“Of course, I wouldn’t.” Stanley looked wounded. “How could you even think such a thing, my dearest? But there are others on the street not as kind as I am, unfortunately.”

He stepped nearer her, paying no attention at all to the gun she kept pointed toward him, and laid his hand on her cheek. When she jerked away from his touch, he laughed and said, “Marriage to me will not be so horrendous. You’ll see.”

S
tanley left calmly, even pausing at the door to smile back at Adriane as if he’d just brought her home after a social. “September 15th will be the happiest day of your life, my dearest Adriane,” he said. “You’ll be a beautiful bride. My beautiful bride.”

For several minutes after he went out, she kept the gun pointed toward the door. When she was sure he was not coming back, she slowly lowered her arm until the gun was pointing toward the floor. Then it was as if some vital bit of energy was draining through her and out the barrel of the gun and into the floorboards until she hardly had the strength to remain standing.

“I should’a shot him when I had the chance,” Beck growled as he glared at the door.

“You couldn’t shoot him just because he was yelling at me.” Adriane thought she preferred the yelling to the quiet threats. What had she done? More importantly, what was Stanley going to do?

“The Lord would’ve forgive me.” Beck was still scowling at the door, but then he dropped his head down to stare at the floor. “I’m sorry, Addie. The man surprised me. Moving so fast like that. I always figured he was more talk than action.”

“You’re not the first person Stanley has fooled,” Adriane said softly. She had to pause a moment to gather the strength to go on. “He may be able to do it, you know. Why he wants to, heaven only knows, but he may find a way to force me to marry him.”

“How could he do that?” Beck looked up at her and forgot all about his question. “Whoa there, Addie, don’t you be fainting on me, and give me that gun before you shoot your foot off.” He took the gun out of her hand and pushed a chair up under her. “Now, don’t you worry about that blackguard. I’ll be ready for him next time. You can be sure of that.”

Adriane hardly heard his words. “Father will be every bit as angry as Stan,” she said.

“Your pa will understand.”

“Will he, Beck?” Adriane looked at the old man, who didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Even if it means losing the
Tribune
?”

Beck looked at the press, the table with its rows of type, and the stacks of blank newsprint waiting for their words. When he finally looked back at Adriane, his eyes were sad. “The boss the same as lost the
Tribune
some months back, Addie. Coleman Jimson owns it now in every way but name. You marrying Stanley Jimson couldn’t do nothing to change that.”

Adriane wanted to deny the truth of Beck’s words, but she knew he was right. “Even if that’s true, Stanley will still try to have his revenge on us. You heard him.”

“I heard him. But it was just talk.”

“No, he meant it.” Adriane had no doubt of that. She pulled in a deep breath as some of the strength began to come back into her arms and legs. “Father has to be warned.” Adriane stood up so quickly the chair fell back with a loud clatter.

“Hold it, Addie. You ain’t setting foot out on them streets.” Beck caught her arm as she moved toward the door.

“But Beck, Stanley the same as threatened Father’s life.”

“Young Jimson ain’t got it in him to shoot nobody.”

“Who knows what Stanley might do,” Adriane said.

“I reckon that’s true enough, but you still ain’t going out on them streets today. Not with the way feelings is running so high among the fellers.” He looked at her a moment before turning to take his hat off the rack. “If it has to be done, and I reckon it does, I’ll go find the boss and let him know what’s going on.”

After Beck left, Adriane paced back and forth across the printing room, pausing every time she passed the window to peer out at the men hurrying past, shouting back and forth at one another and waving guns or clubs in the air. The looks on their faces frightened Adriane. Still, in spite of her fear, Adriane wished she could be out there to see what was going on for herself. It might be bad, but it would be news. Not just news. Headline news. Four-inch headline news. Plus she needed to see her father with her own eyes to be sure he was all right.

Adriane jumped at the sound of banging on the back door. Beck had made her lock all the doors after he left, something they never did when the boys were running in their reports. For a long moment, Adriane stared at the gun Beck had left on the table, but she didn’t pick it up. It had to be one of the boys, she told herself as she rushed toward the back door.

Like a shadow, Duff slipped inside the minute she cracked open the door. “Miss Adriane, I was getting worried you wasn’t coming.” His eyes were wide, and he was panting in ragged bursts as if he’d run a long way.

“Are you all right, Duff?” Adriane reached out to touch a bright smear of blood on his cheek.

“Ain’t nothing but a scratch.” Duff roughly rubbed away the blood on his cheek. “But things are turning bad out there, for a truth.”

“What’s happening?”

“The Know Nothings have took over the streets and are jumping on anybody that don’t look right to ’em and that’s everybody but them.”

“There are always fights on election day.”

“This ain’t the normal bit of fisticuffs. I’m not so sure a body could even call them fights. Leastways not fair ones. It’s a dozen of them to one of us.”

“Us?”

“You know, the Irish and Germans,” Duff said. “Last I seen them, the mob was headed for Armbrewster’s brewery, but they won’t be forgetting us Irish. So I just came back to be letting you know I couldn’t be running in no more stories. I’ve got to get on home and see that no harm comes to me mother and sisters.”

“Of course, Duff, but are you sure it’s really that bad?”

“I don’t want to be worrying you, but they’re like animals out there. I ain’t never seen the likes of it before.” His eyes got even wider.

“Did you see Mr. Darcy?”

“Aye. He’s with the mayor. The last I seen them they was trying to talk the men into going home, but the whole thing’s past words now. Too many of the men are wanting to throw their torches. Fires are burning all along Shelby Street already.”

“Can’t the police stop them?”

“Ain’t no use depending on the watch.” Duff made a sound of disgust. “Them I seen were shedding their coats and jumping right in with the rest of the crowd.”

“Surely not all of them.” Adriane didn’t want to believe his words.

“Maybe not, but them that aren’t can’t fight the whole crowd. Nobody could fight this bunch. They ain’t even letting the firemen through to put out the fires.”

“This can’t be happening, Duff. Not here. Louisville is a civilized town.”

He stared at her with his wide, dark eyes a moment before he finally said, “Not tonight, Miss Adriane. Not tonight.” Then as if to back up his words, in the distance they heard a resounding boom. “They must’ve torched the brewery.”

Adriane listened and knew he was right. Whatever was going on out on the streets couldn’t be stopped. She looked at Duff, and though she wanted to keep him there with her where she could be sure he was safe, she pushed him toward the door instead. “Be very careful, Duff.”

“You don’t need to be worrying none about me, Miss Adriane. I can keep from being seen.”

As if to prove it, he slipped out the back door and practically melted into the shadows against the buildings. He was gone from her sight in seconds, but she kept standing there staring out the open door until the old dog came up and stuck his nose against her leg. She reached down to touch the dog’s head. “You’d best hide, Mr. O’Mallory. It’s a night for everyone to hide.”

Gunfire sounded in the distance, and as the last traces of daylight gave way to night, an unnatural glow lit up the sky to the east. Even before she shut the door and headed back toward the front of the building, she knew what she was going to do. Who knew when Beck would return? She had to see with her own eyes that her father was safe.

She grabbed her father’s dark gray hooded rain cloak off the rack and wrapped herself in it. It was hot, but at least no one would recognize her. She had watched Duff. She would do the same. Stay in the shadows that were growing deeper in spite of the streetlamps beginning to come on. And if there were no shadows, the cloak would be shadow enough.

As she opened the front door and looked out on the street that was deserted now, she remembered her promise to Beck to not leave the building for any reason. She stood there, hesitating, while a burst of gunfire tattooed the air in the distance and then flames were leaping for the sky only a few streets away.

She stared at the sparks flying up above the buildings. The
Herald
offices were in that direction and Adriane thought Blake Garrett could be his own eyewitness to that story. He could simply step out on his doorstep and take it all down. Of course he wouldn’t be there. He would be down where the news had been happening all afternoon. If the Know Nothing mob saw him, they’d have no mercy after the way he had blasted them in his editorials the last few weeks.

At the thought, Adriane’s heart froze inside her, and without really thinking about what she was doing or why, she went back in the pressroom to pick up the gun and slip it down into the deep pocket inside the cloak. When she went back out on the street, fire alarms were clanging as the firemen rushed toward the blaze. She remembered what Duff had said about the men on the street not letting the firemen through, and she felt a chill as she looked back at the flames rising above the buildings. The whole block could burn.

Dear Lord in heaven, protect us from ourselves.

She looked to the east where the sky glowed ever brighter and wondered if perhaps the entire city might burn. Then she pulled the hood of the cloak well over her face and began walking toward the sounds of sporadic gunfire. Smoke drifted through the streets, seeming to carry with it the roiling, grumbling noise of the mob somewhere up ahead.

At the first sight of a gang of men pushing along the street waving their guns and clubs and shouting, Adriane shrank back into a recessed doorway to hide. The roar of their voices and the looks on their faces as they rushed past left no doubt they were looking for trouble. Adriane hardly dared to breathe for fear one of them might notice her there.

At last when they were well past, she eased out of the doorway and, staying far back, trailed after the men. There looked to be maybe a dozen of them before a couple of men came out of a building to join up with them. Then three more ran up from a side street. Without pausing, the group absorbed the new additions and kept going in a determined rush forward toward the even greater roar ahead.

Suddenly Adriane was terrified of this feeling that had captured the city and was leaping like a live thing from man to man. The group of men in front of her made her think of a flooded river picking up more water as it rushed along until it jumped its banks and started knocking down everything in its path.

A small carriage pulled by one horse burst out of a side street directly in front of the men. With a yell that sent chills down Adriane’s back, they moved in front of the carriage. The horse skittered sideways and stopped. The driver slashed with his carriage whip first at the horse and then the men closing in around him.

Without Adriane really seeing how it happened, the carriage overturned, spilling out the driver and taking the horse down. In a panic the horse kicked and struggled against the tangled harness. The men stood back, and the driver wasted no time disappearing down one of the side streets. A few of the men started after him, but turned back at the edge of the deeper shadows in the alley. Behind them the other men were slashing open the carriage seats as if they thought gold might be hidden in the stuffing.

When they didn’t find anything, one of the men touched the stuffing with his torch. Flames shot up at once, and Adriane guessed that the oil from the lamp on the side of the carriage had spilled out. The horse, still on the ground trapped in his harness, whinnied with terror. Some of the men laughed. But then one of the men threw his jacket over the horse’s head and another swiftly cut through the harness lines. The horse found its feet and raced wildly away while the men moved on down the street.

Adriane lagged farther behind them now, scurrying from shadow to shadow. Beck was right. The street was no place for her tonight. No place for anyone who wasn’t out to find trouble.

And yet she didn’t turn back toward the offices. She kept following the men almost as if she felt the same pull they did toward the shouting, screaming mass of men ahead. Smoke was thick in the streets now, more smoke than just that from the burning carriage cushions. Suddenly the carriage behind her was engulfed in a whoosh of flames, lighting up the air around her, but none of the men looked back.