Rexanne Becnel Read Online Free Page A

pat at her hair and a quick adjustment to her tilted spectacles, she moved to the front of the gathering.
    “Welcome, parents,” she began, trying hard to keep her voice low and calm, as she had so often instructed her students to do. “As you are aware, we end this year with far more than the normal portion of regret. Frederick Allen Kimbell, the founder of Sparrow Hill School for Young Ladies and its guiding force for all of its eighteen years, died quite unexpectedly this spring. He was struck down in his prime—” Lacie faltered. She could not help but think of the remarks she’d heard Frederick make on graduation days, going back beyond even her own graduation ceremony eight years before.
    “I know it is impossible to think about Sparrow Hill without thinking about Frederick Kimbell. He was everything to us—teacher, friend, even father.” She twisted the handkerchief in her hands and looked at Ada, who was now weeping silently. Tears stung her own eyes and a lump seemed to block her throat. She continued on only with much difficulty.
    “We who are left behind are determined not to let the school that he loved so well die. I hope you will extend the confidence that you felt in Mr. Kimbell to me and to the rest of the staff here.”
    She had meant to say more. She had meant to go on about the fine education their girls would continue to receive and about the preparations they would receive in history, mathematics, and literature. But Lacie was afraid she would burst into tears in front of the entire company and thereby disgrace herself.
    Then Ada came to her aid with the silver tray of diplomas and a reassuring smile.
    “And now, we would like to introduce our valedictorian. We will follow by awarding diplomas to the six girls who will be graduating today after many dedicated years at Sparrow Hill.”
    It was a relief to step back and let Judge Landry’s eldest daughter, Jessica, make the valedictory remarks. They were well-considered words—Lacie had helped the nervous girl organize her thoughts—but the speech was nonetheless similar to the many others that had preceded it through the years. Still, it was reassuring to hear the youthful enthusiasm of the girl as she spoke of the unity of mankind and the understanding to be had through education.
    Lacie let her eyes wander over the assembly. The thirty-four students were all dressed in simple white cotton dresses, and they sat together in the front three rows of chairs. Beyond them, their mothers and fathers sat, dressed in their summertime best.
    But in the back a solitary figure leaned casually against the tall doorframe. It was that unknown man from the cemetery. And he was staring straight at her.
    Lacie involuntarily brought her handkerchief to her lips and lowered her eyes. It took all her willpower to swallow her momentary panic, and her heart pounded painfully as she tried to calm herself. He would not find her out, she told herself. No one would. She’d been too careful. Besides, hadn’t she half-expected this anyway? Hadn’t she anticipated that Frederick’s brother might send someone around to look further into the death? And the marriage? Someone to ask questions? She took a slow, shaky breath and tried to calm herself. She was being foolish and she was overreacting, she told herself, because she was feeling guilty. He was probably no one of any consequence at all.
    Cautiously she looked back at him. How she wished she could remove the bothersome spectacles, but she dared not do so. Instead, she had to peer carefully over the metal rim to examine this intimidating stranger.
    Despite his poor manners in staring, he was at least dressed appropriately, she decided. His frock coat was of black broadcloth, cut in a long fashion. Beneath it he wore a pure white linen shirt with a wing collar and a plainly tied black silk cravat. He held his black slouch hat in one hand. Yet despite these trappings of civility, Lacie was aware of a dangerous air