Read Online Violet Fire by Brenda Joyce - Free Book Online

read. The unfairness of it all had struck her to the core, even then.
    Grace’s voice trembled. “Why don’t you sit down, Geoffrey.”
    â€œNo!” Mary Louise shrieked, standing. “My sister and me will not learn with a darkie! I’m going to go tell Mama! You’re teaching a nigger to read! You’ll be sorry!” She ran for the door, her face white with rage.
    Grace leapt to her feet. “Wait, Mary Louise!”
    Mary Louise fled.
    Grace pressed her hands to her chest. What had she done? Oh, damn her impulsiveness. “Geoffrey, honey,” she said, her hand on his shoulder, “I will see you later. You had better go before Mrs. Barclay gets here.”
    His face fell. “Yes ma’am.”
    It broke her heart to send him away.
    â€œAre we finished today?” Margaret Anne asked hopefully.
    â€œNo we are not,” Grace said, sitting next to her.
    Grace spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the blow to fall.
    It did not come until much later that evening.

Chapter 5
    It was eight when she was at last summoned to the library; she went dreading dismissal. Somehow, she had to avert that catastrophe, for her mother’s sake.
    Louisa was waiting for her imperiously, impatiently, and she was not alone. Grace did not look at Rathe, standing by the mantel, but she could feel his presence.
    â€œMary Louise says you were teaching Geoffrey to read.” One glance at the mistress of Melrose was enough for Grace to see that she was furious.
    Grace began carefully, “He showed tremendous poten—”
    â€œWere you, Miss O’Rourke?”
    She took a breath. “Not exactly.”
    â€œMy daughter is a liar?” Her voice rose. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were dark.
    â€œHe was hanging about, and when Margaret Anne did not know her letters, I asked Geoffrey if he did. And he did. That’s all.”
    Louisa paced forward. “According to Mary Louise, you invited him in to learn with them. Is that true or not?”
    Grace’s eyes were steady and unwavering. “Yes.”
    â€œThat is not the way we do things down heah,” she said hotly. “This is not New York, Miss O’Rourke. The damn Republicans may have forced schools down our throats, the damn Union League may be tellin’ the niggers they’ve got rights, but down heah, Miss O’Rourke, it’s well known that the niggers are not equal and have noneed to learn—even if they could. And they most certainly do not sit as equals with my daughters in my house!”
    â€œThe Negroes are free now, and they have every right granted the white man as citizens under the law and the Constitution and—”
    â€œWhat Miss O’Rourke is sayin’,” Rathe drawled smoothly, cutting her off, “is that she is indeed sorry to have so upset you, darlin’.”
    â€œThey may be freed men,” Louisa said harshly, “and they may have gotten the right to vote, but they still till our soil for us, and if they didn’t they’d starve to death, every last one of them! They are still inferior bein’s. They certainly have no rights heah at Melrose and you have no right to teach them!”
    Grace looked at the floor. She was trembling, her face crimson. She fought her anger at this bigoted woman, and then thought of the victim of this unjust system—a poor little boy who was unusually bright and doomed to life as a sharecropper unless he could rise above his fate. And it could happen! There were educated, literate Negroes out there, fighting for the Republican cause, like the congressman John R. Lynch. She kept her eyes lowered so Louisa Barclay would not see the anger and defiance there. She did not raise them until she had her emotions under control. “Yes ma’am.”
    â€œIf I weren’t so desperate I would send you packin’,” Louisa declared. “But I’m bein’ charitable. You are a