Read Online Irish Lady by Jeanette Baker - Free Book Online

do.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI’m done for. They have their scapegoat.”
    â€œBut, if you’re innocent—”
    â€œFrom where do y’ hail, Mr. French?”
    â€œI was born in Belfast.”
    â€œBut recently returned, if I’m not mistaken.”
    â€œHow can you tell?”
    â€œY’ know nothing about us.”
    The barrister sighed and sat back in his chair. “I’ve been practicing in Manchester for the last three years. Before that I clerked in London.”
    Michael’s eyes narrowed. He tapped the ashes of his cigarette against the table leg. “London, y’ say?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHave y’ told Meggie?”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    Michael ground out his cigarette underneath his chair and leaned forward. “Have y’ told Meghann McCarthy that y’ know who she is?”
    Again, the silence dragged out between them. “No,” French admitted at last.
    â€œWhy not?”
    Miles French frowned and shifted in his seat. “At first, I wanted to know why she was involved at all. I didn’t buy her story of an old family friend.”
    â€œAnd now?”
    French squirmed with discomfort. “I don’t really know. It doesn’t seem right to tell her when she obviously doesn’t want me to know.”
    â€œDo y’ buy her story now, Mr. French?”
    The younger man looked surprised. “Of course. I’ve seen her with your family. They trust her. There could be no other reason for her interest.”
    â€œWhat would y’ say if I told y’ that Meghann is trying t’ secure my release?”
    â€œI’d say you were one hell of a lucky man, Mr. Devlin.”
    â€œDo y’ think I’m guilty, Mr. French?”
    â€œOf course, Mr. Devlin.”
    â€œWhy haven’t y’ informed against Meghann?”
    Beneath his wire-rimmed glasses, the lawyer’s eyes misted with excitement. “Are you insane? This is the case of the century. Meghann McCarthy is the best legal counsel in England. With her help, we can win this. And if we win, you won’t be the only one to benefit, Mr. Devlin.”
    â€œY’ have everything figured out, do y’, Miles?”
    The young man looked very pleased with himself. “Yes. I suppose I do.”
    Holding the blanket like a shawl around him, Michael stood, walked to the window and pounded for the guard. Before the door opened he turned back to address the lawyer one more time. “Do y’ know what they say about the best-laid plans, Miles?”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œBe sure all the players learn their lines.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œI’m not guilty, Miles. But y’ should ask yourself why I’m the one standing for the crime.”
    ***
    â€œHe told you himself?” Meggie stood against the beautifully mounted Georgian window in her office, her charcoal gray jacket and skirt suitably framed against a backdrop of London fog.
    â€œYes, he did. Volunteered it, actually.” To Miles French, Meghann looked to be the epitome of corporate efficiency with exactly the right amount of feminine softness. He liked the way her red hair brought out the green in her whiskey-gold eyes. How would a woman like that, the wife of an English peer, know the Irish Catholic Devlins?
    â€œWell then, Mr. French. It appears that my time has come. The next time you visit the Maze, I’m coming with you.” Meghann picked up the telephone. “Better yet, I’ll go alone. There are a few things I’d like to discuss in private with Michael Devlin.”
    â€œYou had better take an oxygen mask when you do that. The reek of the place will kill you.”
    Meghann felt no need to mention that she had been brought up in the slums of West Belfast, where nine families shared one latrine located no more than ten feet from the back door.
    When Mrs. Hartwell