Part 18 (1/2)
There is my bed...
”Ah, such a sacrifice,” Jules said with laughter in his voice.
Simon frowned.
”Come now,” his friend said, chuckling. ”There isn't a soul on this island who doesn't believe you've enjoyed her favors, innocent or not. She was on board your s.h.i.+p for weeks and now is under your roof. She is far too lovely not to tempt any man, much less a man with your reputation.”
”I don't give a d.a.m.n what people think. Have we become so lax here that everyone has time to sit around and speculate about whom I bed?”
”You are a favorite subject of interest here. And you avoid discussing this woman at every turn.”
Simon sighed. ”Merde, Jules. What do you wish to hear?”
He sat back. ”For starters, every detail.”
”There's nothing to tell.”
With mirth in his eyes, Jules rose. ”Fine. Have it your way. Don't forget today is the first of the month.”
Simon groaned. ”I'd completely forgotten.”
”I have not. This is one duty I'm more than happy to relinquish to you-mediating disputes between the islanders. I swear, if I had to settle one more dispute regarding chickens, I would drown myself in the sea. All parties concerned will be in attendance in the village square this afternoon at two.”
”How many items are on the list to be settled?”
”Thus far, six. It would seem they are eager for your good judgment to settle their differences.”
Simon sighed. ”How many are about chickens?”
”No doubt all.”
”You will be there?”
Jules smiled broadly. ”Of course, I wouldn't miss your decisive judgment on the fate of our poultry for anything in the world.”
”I'm sorry, Angelica. This is all my fault,” Gabriella said, breaking the silence on the carriage ride back home. ”I didn't mean to get you into trouble with the old priest. I didn't think Pere Crotteau would object so strongly to you singing your mother's song inside the church when no one was around. For Heaven's sake, even horrible Madre Paola would allow it from time to time.” Gabriella patted her hand. ”But don't worry. Domenico will be there in the village square. I will explain everything. All will be well,” she a.s.sured.
She wasn't sorry she'd sung. They'd stopped briefly to light a candle for their dear Madre Caterina while the church was empty, and at Gabriella's prompting, Angelica had sung Madre's favorite song. One Angelica's mother had taught her. The old priest flew into a fit and had told her he was going to report her this afternoon at the village square, where trials and disputes were heard. Wagging a gnarled finger at her, he'd warned her to be there to receive whatever punishment her disrespect warranted. True, the song she'd sung in church wasn't religious but a lovely love song instead.
It gave her great comfort to sing it again. She hadn't done so since that night in the chapel with Madre Paola. And Simon.
The man who had inspired her to take risks, to reach for happiness.
This final obstacle to putting her past behind her and revealing her stepfather's sick act was proving to be insurmountable.
She was about to respond to Gabriella when something caught her eye just past Gabriella's shoulder. ”Gabriella, is that not the school?”
Gabriella turned and gasped. ”That is Andre Grignon, the schoolmaster. He is whipping that child!”
Standing outside the schoolhouse, the schoolmaster viciously lashed a small boy with a switch across his back as the child wailed in agony.
”Stop this carriage!” Angelica shouted to the driver and jumped down the moment it came to an abrupt halt. She ran and s.n.a.t.c.hed the boy to her. Pus.h.i.+ng the sobbing child behind her, she turned to confront the schoolmaster, fury burning through her veins.
”What do you think you are doing?” She shook with outrage.
”Stand aside,” the tall, thin man ordered. ”I discipline the children as I see fit.”
”No! This is not discipline! This is brutality. What could he possibly have done to deserve a beating of this magnitude?”
The schoolmaster snorted. ”I do not answer to you.”
”I'm taking him home.” She turned to the boy when Grignon grabbed her arm. Instinctively, she swung around and struck him with an open palm across his face. ”Don't touch me! I am not one of these helpless children you enjoy mistreating.”
Angelica ignored the man as he held his cheek, stunned. She gently picked up the sobbing boy and briskly carried him to the carriage, Gabriella rus.h.i.+ng alongside her.
In short order, they found themselves standing in the Moutier home, having learned en route from the young boy, Tristan, that his mother worked in the Moutier's household.
Sabine stepped out into the foyer, wearing a welcoming smile.
Her smile died the instant she saw the crying boy in Angelica's arms and his blood-soaked s.h.i.+rt. Sabine rushed forward, gently lifted the s.h.i.+rt, and saw the open cuts slashed across his back.
”My G.o.d, what happened?”
”Grignon did this to him,” Angelica explained, still livid.
”Brute!” Sabine's single word was rife with disgust. Calling to a male servant, she ordered him to carry the child upstairs.
”This treatment of children cannot be tolerated,” Angelica said.
”Oh, I quite agree!” Sabine looked just as enraged. ”First, I must inform Claire about what happened to her son. Then we shall get to the bottom of this. If this is the first time Grignon has done this to a child, it is one time too many. Today is the day disputes are heard in the village square. We'll attend and advise Simon of the schoolmaster's practices. I don't believe Simon or Jules had any idea that Grignon was capable of this!”
Angelica glanced at Gabriella and cleared her throat. ”I'm afraid I already have a matter before Simon today. This one involving the schoolmaster will make two.”
Chapter Fourteen.
Simon sat at a long table in the village square with Jules, Domenico, and Armand. A large crowd had a.s.sembled before them. As Domenico called out each item from the list, the concerned parties stepped forward before Simon and took turns arguing the merits of their dispute against the opposing individual.
Simon tried to render judgments that were fair and would set boundaries of conduct for all. By the sixth dispute, he was hard-pressed to stay focused. Merde. This was tedious in the extreme. Jules hadn't jested when he'd told him these were mostly about chickens.
Armand diligently recorded every dispute and resolution.
”That was the last one, was it not?” Simon inquired, anxious to put an end to the tiresome task.
Domenico shook his head. ”No, I'm afraid. There is one more that was added at the last minute.”
Simon sighed. ”Domenico, tell me it isn't over any more livestock.”