Read Online Captives of the Night by Loretta Chase - Free Book Online
Authors: Loretta Chase
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in the parlor did his calm amiability give way to frowning concern.
"My dear girl," he said, taking Leila's hands in his.
The gentle voice, the warm strength of his hands, drove back the demons of the last six days.
"I'm all right," she said. "It's a — an unpleasant business, but merely a formality, I'm sure."
"A terrible strain upon you, all the same." He led her to the sofa and sat down with her. "Take your time and tell me as best you can, from the beginning."
She told him virtually the same story she'd told Lord Quentin three times, the magistrate twice, and Fiona once. It was the truth, but not all of it. Leila told Andrew a bit more about the quarrel, but not much more. She described it in general terms, letting him assume she couldn't remember the details clearly. She didn't mention the prussic acid odor or the ink she'd spilled.
Even with Andrew, whom she would trust with her life, there was only one route to take: the death was an accident.
She was guiltily aware that Andrew would be appalled at what she'd done. To shield a murderer was a criminal act, and he would not countenance it, regardless what was at stake.
She wasn't so noble. While Andrew might find some way to save her from the gallows, the truth about her father would surely come out and destroy her career. She would, as always, find some way to survive. But Andrew's career would be jeopardized as well. He had never told the authorities he'd found Jonas Bridgeburton's daughter alive, and he'd had to take some not strictly legal steps to give her a new identity.
The average lawyer's career might withstand a small, very old blot on his copybook. Andrew Herriard, however, was one of the most highly regarded solicitors in England, not simply because of his brilliant legal mind, but because of his unshakable integrity. He was being considered for a knighthood at least, possibly a peerage.
Leila wouldn't let his life be blighted because of her.
No matter what happened at tomorrow's inquest, no matter what the doctors found in Francis' body, she wouldn't be destroyed, and Andrew wouldn't be disgraced. She'd had six days to think and plan, and she'd found, as she always did, a way to manage matters. She hadn't let Francis victimize her. She wouldn't let a lot of law officers do it, either.
All she cared about now was Andrew, and her heart lightened when his worried expression began to abate. She had only to glance up into his gentle brown eyes to know he believed her innocent.
"It was simply an unlucky chain of circumstances," he said reassuringly. "Still, you were fortunate that particular client happened along. I understand Esmond is very well connected, here as well as abroad."
"Apparently he had only to snap his fingers and Lord Quentin came running."
"I couldn't ask for a better man than Quentin to oversee this farce of an inquiry. An unavoidable farce, thanks to Mrs. Dempton's unaccountable behavior. She will cost the Home Office much needless labor and expense." He searched her face. "But they're minor concerns at present. I'm sorry you've had to endure so much. At least I find you in good hands: Lady Carroll is devoted to you — and that young manservant seems a steady fellow."
"He's Esmond's servant," she said. "Nick is a sort of bodyguard. I was given a choice between him and one of Quentin's men. Someone was needed to keep out the curious." She explained that apart from her dressmaker, only David had been admitted. He'd called the day after Francis' death, and she'd asked him to discourage others from calling until after the inquest.
"Very wise." He smiled. "You've done everything just as I should have advised. It would seem I'm scarcely needed."
"
I
only wish you hadn't been needed," she said. I'm sorry to bring so much trouble to you."
"Nonsense," he said briskly. "As usual, you leave me little to do. You've acted wisely and bravely, as you have for years. My only regret is that this marriage has demanded so very much wisdom and
"My dear girl," he said, taking Leila's hands in his.
The gentle voice, the warm strength of his hands, drove back the demons of the last six days.
"I'm all right," she said. "It's a — an unpleasant business, but merely a formality, I'm sure."
"A terrible strain upon you, all the same." He led her to the sofa and sat down with her. "Take your time and tell me as best you can, from the beginning."
She told him virtually the same story she'd told Lord Quentin three times, the magistrate twice, and Fiona once. It was the truth, but not all of it. Leila told Andrew a bit more about the quarrel, but not much more. She described it in general terms, letting him assume she couldn't remember the details clearly. She didn't mention the prussic acid odor or the ink she'd spilled.
Even with Andrew, whom she would trust with her life, there was only one route to take: the death was an accident.
She was guiltily aware that Andrew would be appalled at what she'd done. To shield a murderer was a criminal act, and he would not countenance it, regardless what was at stake.
She wasn't so noble. While Andrew might find some way to save her from the gallows, the truth about her father would surely come out and destroy her career. She would, as always, find some way to survive. But Andrew's career would be jeopardized as well. He had never told the authorities he'd found Jonas Bridgeburton's daughter alive, and he'd had to take some not strictly legal steps to give her a new identity.
The average lawyer's career might withstand a small, very old blot on his copybook. Andrew Herriard, however, was one of the most highly regarded solicitors in England, not simply because of his brilliant legal mind, but because of his unshakable integrity. He was being considered for a knighthood at least, possibly a peerage.
Leila wouldn't let his life be blighted because of her.
No matter what happened at tomorrow's inquest, no matter what the doctors found in Francis' body, she wouldn't be destroyed, and Andrew wouldn't be disgraced. She'd had six days to think and plan, and she'd found, as she always did, a way to manage matters. She hadn't let Francis victimize her. She wouldn't let a lot of law officers do it, either.
All she cared about now was Andrew, and her heart lightened when his worried expression began to abate. She had only to glance up into his gentle brown eyes to know he believed her innocent.
"It was simply an unlucky chain of circumstances," he said reassuringly. "Still, you were fortunate that particular client happened along. I understand Esmond is very well connected, here as well as abroad."
"Apparently he had only to snap his fingers and Lord Quentin came running."
"I couldn't ask for a better man than Quentin to oversee this farce of an inquiry. An unavoidable farce, thanks to Mrs. Dempton's unaccountable behavior. She will cost the Home Office much needless labor and expense." He searched her face. "But they're minor concerns at present. I'm sorry you've had to endure so much. At least I find you in good hands: Lady Carroll is devoted to you — and that young manservant seems a steady fellow."
"He's Esmond's servant," she said. "Nick is a sort of bodyguard. I was given a choice between him and one of Quentin's men. Someone was needed to keep out the curious." She explained that apart from her dressmaker, only David had been admitted. He'd called the day after Francis' death, and she'd asked him to discourage others from calling until after the inquest.
"Very wise." He smiled. "You've done everything just as I should have advised. It would seem I'm scarcely needed."
"
I
only wish you hadn't been needed," she said. I'm sorry to bring so much trouble to you."
"Nonsense," he said briskly. "As usual, you leave me little to do. You've acted wisely and bravely, as you have for years. My only regret is that this marriage has demanded so very much wisdom and
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