Finns squares his shoulders—which have gotten a good deal sturdier since I last saw him. Or paid attention, at any rate. How long has it been since I actually looked? He's gotten awfully handsome; it can't have happened overnight.
Jessica SpotswoodMots clés finn
I have never been this close to a man before. Something stirs deep, pulsing through my body, and its quite like the tug of magic, buts its not the magic; this is something entirely different, just between Finn and me and this moment.
Jessica SpotswoodI feel us tilting toward each other like trees in a strong breeze. I've been craving the sight of him for days, but now its not enough. I'm not sure who moves first. The inches between us are erased until I'm in his arms and my mouth finds his.
Jessica SpotswoodIt's called Sunday school, but we are required to attend twice weekly: on Sunday before regular service and again on Wednesday evenings. There are two separate classes: one for children under ten, held in the classroom down the hall, to teach them basic prayers and the tenets of the Brotherhood's beliefs, and one for girls aged eleven to seventeen, to teach us about how wicked we are.
Jessica SpotswoodIt was the winter after Mother died, and Mrs. Corbett and some of the Brother's wives came to call. They kept bleating on about how sorry they were and my poor dear mother. It was infuriating. They didn't know Mother at all; she never liked any of them. They were just nosy, noisy sheep.
Jessica SpotswoodSome things are worth the danger, aren’t they? I don’t believe anyone should be allowed to dictate what I read or who my friends are. It gives me pleasure t know that I can thwart the Brotherhood in some small way.
Jessica SpotswoodTess focuses on Cyclops’s placid, one-eyes face. He lost one of his black button eyes year ago, but she wouldn’t let Mrs. O’Hare replace it. She said it made him more interesting, and changed his name from Barnabus.
Jessica SpotswoodBrother Ralston smiles fondly, only too willing to believe in my womanly frailty. If it weren’t to my advantage, I’d slap the smile from his face.
Jessica SpotswoodI just want to be me. Cate. Why isn’t that ever enough?
Jessica SpotswoodWe talk a bit, until Tess is sufficiently calm, and then I take her upstairs and see her snuggled back into bed with Cyclops and one of Maura’s romance novels. Strange bedfellows, but both seem to comfort her, and it serves to remind me again that she is a strange mix of woman and child, carrying a burden far too heavy for her.
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