The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,254

get you out of here fast; it looks like things are about to get even uglier.’

All around them, violent skirmishes were breaking out as the protestors rallied and began to fight back.

As they neared the intersection of West 138th and Lenox, Cecily spotted the Chrysler and pointed to it. ‘There’s Archer!’ she yelled above the melee. The man swept her into his arms and ran with her to the car, wrenching open the rear door as they reached it.

‘Thank the Lord you’re safe, Miss Cecily!’ shouted Archer, starting the engine. ‘Let’s get outta here!’

‘You take care, ma’am,’ the man said as he lowered Cecily into the seat. As he was about to shut the door, Cecily stopped him, seeing two policemen with nightsticks heading towards the car.

‘Archer, wait! Get in now!’ she screamed to the man, mustering her remaining strength as she reached out to grasp his arm and pull him inside, just as the policemen charged forward to grab him. ‘Go, Archer! Go, go, go!’

Archer gunned the engine and the car sped off.

As the Chrysler pulled away from the nightmare scene they had left behind, the three occupants breathed a collective sigh of relief.

‘I can’t thank you enough for your help . . .’ Cecily ventured.

‘It’s nothing. I should thank you for yours just then.’ The man was leaning back in the seat, his eyes half closed.

‘Can we take you somewhere? Where do you live?’ she asked.

‘Just drop me at the nearest subway stop.’

‘We’re just coming up to 110th Street station,’ Archer interjected.

‘That will suit me fine,’ the man said.

Archer pulled the car over.

‘Can I at least take your name?’ Cecily said.

The man hesitated for a moment, then reached into his pocket and handed her a card, before getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him.

Cecily woke up two days later, her ankle still throbbing with pain, despite the ice packs she had placed on it during the night. On their return from the protest, dirtied and hobbling, Cecily had sworn Archer to absolute secrecy. He had hesitantly promised not to speak of the event to her parents.

‘If I’m not oversteppin’ my place, Miss Cecily, it might not be a good idea to get involved with those kinda things again,’ he’d said as they’d sat outside the house whilst Cecily composed herself, genuine concern in his eyes.

‘Thank you, Archer, but I’m old enough to know what I’m doing,’ she’d replied curtly. ‘And someone has to stand up to inequality, don’t they?’

‘So long as you keep safe, Miss Cecily. But that ain’t your battle to fight. You’re a lady.’

Dorothea had been dismayed at the state she was in, and Cecily had quickly fabricated an elaborate lie about tripping on a subway grate, before gingerly taking the stairs up to the attic floor to find Stella with Lankenua. Stella had run into her arms and Cecily had gripped her tightly.

‘Why are you so dirty, Kuyia? Where have you been?’

‘That’s not important, honey,’ Cecily had said, smiling down at Stella. ‘I’m simply happy to see you.’

There was a tap on her bedroom door and Evelyn entered with a tray of coffee and toast. She laid it on Cecily’s lap, then checked on her ankle, which was propped up on a pillow.

‘It’s lookin’ much better, miss,’ she said.

‘Thank you, Evelyn,’ Cecily said, regarding her with new eyes. ‘Evelyn?’

‘Yes, miss?’

‘Do you like working for my family?’

‘Why, what a question, Miss Cecily! I’ve been doin’ it so long now, since you was a little girl.’

‘Yes, I know, Evelyn, but don’t you wish you’d had other opportunities?’

There was a pause, then Evelyn said cheerfully, ‘I’m very grateful to have this opportunity. I’ve been happy to serve your family, Miss Cecily. Ain’t you happy with my work?’

‘Of course I am! I’m sorry,’ Cecily said helplessly. ‘I just . . . Oh, don’t worry, Evelyn, I’m being silly.’

‘You just ring the bell if you need anythin’, Miss Cecily.’

Evelyn left the room and Cecily let her head fall back against her pillows. Since the horrific events of the protest, her entire world view had turned on its axis. She could not stop seeing the terrified faces of the protesters being taken by force by the police, and the sheer, outrageous injustice of it all. At least Rosalind had telephoned yesterday to let her know that Beatrix and some dozen other protesters had finally been released from jail.

‘It was a hefty bail, but our lawyer spoke to the judge and got them a good deal. It’s the