Page 14 of Wallflower Gone Wild
“There is nothing to forgive,” she said.
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she tried to ignore the fear running through her at Mac’s behavior.
Mac busied himself by organizing papers and straightening his cluttered desk. Letty waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. Unbuttoning her pelisse, she removed it, placing it on a chair before she began walking around the small space. It was perfectly imperfect, cluttered with papers and pamphlets. Picking up different ones, she looked down at the descriptive images of enslaved people, her heart aching at such horrors.
This was the type of man Mac Meriweather was, he revealed the truth to the world, made a difference and she admired him for it.
“Letty.”
She walked over to him, taking in his haunted eyes. “Mac, tell me,” she demanded, her nails raking through the growth on his face.
He released a wary sigh, his shoulders hunched with the burden of his thoughts. “I-I …” he stammered, and Letty waited patiently for him to find the words. “I have to close the print shop for good.” He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling his larger body into an embrace. Sorrow filled her for him, and all the people that his paper, The Hard Truth, helped.
People like Letty.
“Oh Mac, no. There has to be something you can do. I can assist you. I’ll have my inheritance at the end of the season?—”
He stepped out of the embrace. “No,” he said emphatically, leaving no room for argument. “I can’t accept your offer. You need to open your magazine and help people without the burden of me.” He took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles. “Perhaps it is simply time to stop fighting.”
Letty shook her head, grabbing him by his waistcoat. “You can’t. Look at all you’ve done for people. Someone must inform the world of the horrors of slavery. Promise me you’ll try to save the print shop, Mac. Even if you won’t accept assistance from me.”
“I promise,” he agreed.
“Good. Now, I believe you agreed to teach me everything you know about printing,” she teased him, enjoying how his shoulders relaxed and a smiled teased at his lips.
She wanted to kiss him again, to get swept away in his embrace and forget about everything else. She wanted to be wild—only for him.
He clapped his hands together. “Yes, let’s get you covered, and you can help me with the remainder of the papers for the rally.”
‘Really?” Letty asked, excitement spreading through her as a smile leapt to her lips.
All she ever wanted was to learn the printing business, and this was finally her chance. Years of spending time reading, researching, and planning ways to start her own magazine as he had done finally would come to fruition.
“Yes, and first we need to begin reading the correspondence from my brother,” he said walking over to the pile of letters sitting on the desk against the wall.
“Your brother Gilbert?” Letty had remembered the names of his two older brothers from their conversations at Crestview.
She was aware that Gilbert had worked with Mac at the print shop for years, but she didn’t know his actual role in the business.
“Yes, he is currently in America. He’s been sending me letters on the conditions of slavery there, and it is simply frightening.”
“America? I wasn’t aware that The Hard Truth had such a reach,” she said, fascinated with the new information.
“We’ve had several connections in the Americas over the years, and Gilbert wanted to report on the horrors there. He will return in a few months, but in the meantime, his reports have been life-changing for the paper.” Mac picked up a letter that laid open on the desk and handed it to Letty.
She had only heard snippets of the conditions of slavery in America. It revealed how ignorant she was to the plight of so many who looked like her. Letty wanted to be of some service, to do something, to make a difference like Mac and his brother.
It wasn’t just learning firsthand the intricate workings of a printing press. It was also about revealing the truth, no matter what.
Taking the letter from his hand, Letty scanned it, reading his brother’s account of conditions on plantations in the South. His next account was from New York, and Letty gasped, looking up at Mac. “Eighty-six freed men and women left America for Sierra Leone. How extraordinary,” Letty said, happy there was some good news from America.
“Yes, that is the news I am reporting in the next issue. Can you imagine wanting to leave the place you were born so badly that you’re willing to flee to an entirely different country?” Mac asked, no sign of his previous distressed mood in sight.
The fact was that Letty couldn’t imagine any of the frightening stories she’d heard. All she’d ever known was privilege.
“How many people do you have reporting conditions around the world?” Letty asked, unable to hide the pure joy radiating through her at learning more about his paper.