All You Could Ask For

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All You Could Ask For Page 51

by Angeline Fortin


  “But who…” Eve’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “No.”

  “Why not?” Francis tightened his arm around her and glanced down in confusion. “You don’t think he has it in him?”

  “I can’t…” She shook her head in denial.

  “Think about it,” he insisted, not letting her back down from acknowledging the truth. “He comes to town yet tells no one who he is. We can’t find where he’s staying. Vanessa was seen last week with an unknown man according to the maid Jack talked to, and I use that term loosely.” He counted these off on his fingers as he went on. “He has threatened you and your son, if you recall.”

  Lifting a trembling hand to her throat, Eve thought of all the times William’s hand had surrounded it lightly as he had admonished her, his thumb stroking her throbbing pulse in such a menacing manner. The coldness, maliciousness of his eyes, so unfeeling as he watched others administer his punishments. It might easily have been her. It might very easily have been her.

  It still might be.

  For a heartbeat, she almost felt sorry that Vanessa had been taken in by him.

  Almost.

  “No, William was bad before, and I think worse now. Unpredictable. I can easily imagine he is capable of it. I think of all the times…” She trailed off and Francis rotated her back into his embrace.

  “Don’t worry, Eve We won’t let him get anywhere near you,” Abby assured her as Moira nodded along.

  “What do we do?” Moira asked.

  “They’re going to bring me down later to confront the witness,” Francis told them. “There is no chance he will recognize me when I walk in, and that should be enough to clear my name. That Thompson seems a reasonable man. If I can pass on the new information about Shaftesbury, I would wager he will look into the matter, but it would be better if we knew where to find him.”

  “We can have a few footmen canvass the area around the hotel with a description and see if they can find him,” Richard suggested.

  “Good idea.” Francis nodded. “Worst case, we might just have to have Lady Roxburghe put about that Eve and I have been engaged this week or two past, and Vanessa’s ranting had been naught but jealousy or spite.”

  “Francis?” Eve bit her lip hesitantly before taking a deep breath. “As to the charges, why do you not just provide an alibi for your whereabouts last evening?”

  He looked down at her for a long moment. “Because I don’t have one, my love. I told them I was home all evening but, if they question my staff, they will know it was a lie, providing truth to the opportunity to be the murderer.”

  “You know what I mean.” She flushed in embarrassment. “Give them an alibi. Your alibi.”

  A long pause. He knew what she was suggesting, what she was willing to sacrifice to see the matter done, but he wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t put her in a position that would publicly humiliate her when his alibi was laid down in the records and published in the local newspapers. Such a confession would garner her no good attention and would stain her reputation indelibly. Though he was proud of her for making the offer, Francis wouldn’t let that happen unless it came down to having absolutely no alternative to free him of guilt. “Nay.”

  The three other occupants shared speaking glances, for they all knew as well what Eve was asking him to do and what such an admission would do to her reputation. Richard broke the silence that surrounded his brother’s abrupt dismissal of her solution, “Francis, perhaps you should…”

  “Nay,” he repeated flatly.

  “It is not your choice,” Eve insisted, placing an imploring hand on his chest. “I want to do it. If you just let me— ”

  Francis caught up her hand and placed a quick kiss to her fingers before repeating, more tenderly, “Nay, lass.”

  A throat cleared loudly in the doorway, and they all turned to see Hobbes poised there while Guthrie bobbed behind him nervously. “Excuse me, my lady,” Hobbes addressed Eve. “There are a group of common persons at the door insisting upon seeing Lord Glenrothes.”

  “Who are they?”

  “They identified themselves as the local authorities, my lady.” He offered a silver salver from which Eve pulled the calling card of Mr. Gerald Thompson, detective. She shot a worried glance at Francis, who merely shrugged.

  “Probably just calling to escort me to question the witness, as promised.”

  “In person?” Abby looked skeptical. “Here?”

  “Thought he said he’d send a runner?” Richard asked.

  “Are they in the hall, Hobbes?” Eve wondered if they might have overheard the discussion they were just having.

  “No indeed, my lady. I left them on the front stoop.”

  Richard swallowed a bark of laughter while Moira smiled outright.

  “Perhaps you should show them in then, Hobbes,” Eve directed.

  “Of course, my lady.” The butler clicked his heels with a snap. “Would you like them at once or at your leisure?”

  “I suppose we must have them now.”

  “Very well, my lady.” Hobbes turned with a disappointed sigh and slowly retreated from the room and the minutes passed slowly before they heard the group approach them in the rear parlor.

  The two suited authorities were backed by a trio of uniformed bobbies and, in that moment, Eve’s heart leapt with dismay.

  “Lord Glenrothes,” the shorter of the two men rang out with a satisfied smirk on his thin face as he took in Francis’ position with Eve by his side. “By the Crown’s authority, you are hereby under arrest.”

  * * *

  Unperturbed, the earl disengaged himself from Eve and approached the group with his bearing shouting out his authority and nobility. “Come, gentlemen,” he drawled casually, “I believe we discussed this already. Your witness will not be able to identify me as the person he saw last evening.”

  “We know that, m’lord,” Shaw told him.

  “Then what is all this?”

  “He can’t identify anyone, because he was just found dead in the alley behind the Grand Hotel,” was Shaw’s gleeful reply. “I should have clarified it, huh? You are under arrest for the murders of Vanessa MacKintosh and Jimmy McDugal.”

  “Thompson?” Francis looked inquiringly to the senior detective.

  “You have my most sincere apologies, my lord,” the older man sighed. “There is nothing I can do unless you have an alibi.”

  “When was he killed?”

  “Not long after we met this morning, my lord. He was sent to take a message down the street from the hotel at half nine this morning, and a maid found him less than an hour later,” Thompson read from his notes. “Have you an alibi for that time period?” He added this last hopefully.

  “Not unless someone saw me riding in the park,” Francis admitted, as the time period entirely encompassed the time he’d been out. “That is a possibility if you ask about. Very well, Thompson. What do you require of me?”

  “We’ll have to take you into custody, my lord, until your name can be cleared or until trial,” the detective told him with clear regret.

  “Very well,” Francis straightened his coat, every inch the aristocrat. “Would you like to shackle me or might I just come along peaceably?”

  “Not at all, my lord,” said Thompson.

  “Aye, let’s shackle him,” said Shaw at the same time.

  “Francis,” cried Eve as she and the others gathered in protest.

  “Truly, brother,” Richard interjected. “You can’t mean to go along with this when we all know you didn’t do it.”

  Francis leaned toward his brother. “Truth, brother. It might play in our favor to have it go this way. It might flush Shaftesbury out and get him to show his hand. Watch over Eve and keep her safe.”

  “Have no fears. I will,” Richard assured him. “I just hope you’re right.”

  “I feel I am,” he affirmed. “Work out a plan with Jack to locate Shaftesbury, and you might want to call in James and the others for some muscl
e as well. Bring him to the station when you find him.”

  “Will do.”

  The earl stepped forward once more, but Eve could not let him pass. “Francis, don’t do this. You have an alibi, if you would just use it.”

  “I will not.” His voice was uncompromising. “Nor will you. I want your promise.”

  Eve pressed her lips together rebelliously.

  “Please just trust me, Eden.”

  When Shaw cleared his throat loudly, Francis made a bow to the ladies. “Lady Shaftesbury, I appreciate your concerns on my behalf. Rest assured the matter will be resolved soon.” His voice was formal, showing no hint of their relationship, and Eve supposed she should be grateful.

  She was not.

  * * *

  “Stubborn ass,” Eve muttered under her breath when they had gone. “What can he possibly be thinking?”

  “He’s thinking of you,” Richard said softly, recalling her to the fact that there were others in the room.

  “While I do appreciate his heroic endeavors, Richard, I hardly expect your brother to hang for the sake of my reputation.” The words were sharp, and she cast him an apologetic glance as she buried her face in her hands. She was overwrought, trembling and fearful one moment, anxious and angry the next. The impossible events of the past two days had set her on edge and delivered an overwhelming megrim from which she wasn’t likely to recover any time soon. Her thoughts were blurred and dashed wildly from conflict to conflict. And now, not only did she have Laurie’s safety to worry over, there was Francis’ fate as well.

  Accused of murder! Was there anything that might make it worse?

  “My lady,” Hobbes called from the doorway. “That odious personage from yesterday has again called requesting an audience. Might I send him away?”

  There was no need to ask who that person was. Eve knew clearly it was the one man who might make it all worse. It was intolerable. “I am not at home right now, Hobbes. Please inform him.”

  “Very good, my lady.” Though his expression never changed, Hobbes’ demeanor gave the impression in that moment that he was pleased with the order.

  “Hobbes.” Richard called as the butler turned away. “Send one of the footmen to follow him, would you?”

  “With pleasure, my lord.”

  “Is it wise to send him away, Eve?” Richard asked, turning back into the room. “We might learn something from him.”

  Moira agreed. “He probably came here to gloat.”

  “I can’t do this right now,” Eve whispered, shaking her head in denial as the trials of the past days again threatened to overwhelm her. “I can’t do this.”

  “Come on, Eve,” Moira chided.

  “Stop, Moira”, Eve ground out, balling her fists at her sides. “I can’t do this. I know you all think I am so strong, that I can handle anything, but I can’t. I’m not a strong person.”

  “Evie,” Abby started.

  “No, Abby,” she begged for understanding. “I might have been sassy, saucy, daring—whatever you might call it—as a girl, but that is not the same. I’ve been tested for the past eight years, and I have come out defeated. I can’t fight William when all I have inside me is fear. Yes, I admit it. I’m afraid of William and what he might do. To me. To Laurie! Look what he has done to Francis. He would see the man I love dead.

  “I should have caught on before, when William said the other night that his punishment wouldn’t be only for me. This is his punishment for Francis. And myself as well. He wants to see me suffer. I am! And I am terrified that we cannot stop it. I wish he would just take me and leave Francis out of it. I’d rather he did than let Francis endure this.”

  Tears were pouring down her cheeks as Eve vented all the feelings she had repressed these last years. She was trembling and weak in the knees when Richard came over and took her gently in his arms, rocking her against his broad chest as if she were one of his infant girls.

  Over her head, he looked at his wife and saw the tears of sympathy in Abby’s eyes for the pain of her friend. The look they shared admitted they would feel that exact same fear if the other were in jeopardy. What was true love if not the realization that you would forsake yourself for your mate? He would give up anything, including his life, for Abby. And if anyone were to threaten her?

  The very thought of his angel in danger was enough for Richard’s heart to clench in despair, but it was quickly followed by anger. This bastard was not going to win this game.

  “Eve, look at me,” he said softly and waited until she tilted her head back to look at him. Her eyes and nose were reddened, her cheeks flushed and blotchy. Her nose ran a bit. She was not a pretty crier, he thought with a touch of amusement, though no doubt Francis would think she looked simply lovely. “We are going to fix this, all of us together. Do you understand? You do not have to be strong alone because friends are here with you. We are all here for you. However, I firmly believe you are stronger than you think. You may have felt fear, but you have not faltered. You never ran or took the easy way out. Fear doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human. Only a fool would say he felt no fear in those same situations. In fact, I would say I have rarely met anyone as brave and strong as you.”

  Eve sniffed and dashed a hand across her eyes with a wavering nod. “You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

  “I’m sure Abby has told you I never say anything just to make someone feel good.” He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and surreptitiously wiped her nose as well before balling the cloth into her hand. “Better?”

  “A bit,” she admitted. It had felt good to shout out all her worries even if the others might think her insane and weak for doing so. Years of bottled up emotions leaked their way out of her body, leaving her trembling and a bit giddy. Even her mind seemed to have a new clarity. She smiled up at Richard. “Abby is fortunate to have you.”

  His gaze shifted to his wife and an intimate smile turned up his lips before his eyes returned to Eve. “Aye, she is. As my brother is lucky to have you. Now, are you ready to face this thing?”

  “Possibly.”

  Richard arched an eyebrow.

  “Probably?” she amended and joined his laughter with a watery chuckle.

  She turned to find the two ladies standing behind her, wringing their hands in worry for her and spread her arms wide. As the trio hugged one another, Eve whispered into the huddle, “You are the dearest of friends. I apologize for yelling at you.”

  “Everyone has their faults.” Moira shrugged dismissively. “So you’re a raving lunatic. I think we can live with that.”

  “Moira,” Abby chastened. “She’s not a raving lunatic. She’s merely gone a wee bit batty,” she teased, and they all laughed together, but her expression grew more serious. “You must be a she-wolf, Eve, protecting her young and her mate. Do you realize that? You cannot let this evil man take your life away.”

  “I know,” Eve swallowed deeply.

  “At least you have your pack to back you up,” Moira chimed in.

  “Indeed, you do,” Abby agreed with a cheerful smile as they all hugged again.

  “Well, this is most curious,” Jack drawled from the doorway. “I feel I must have missed something important.”

  Chapter 45

  The spring air that afternoon was crisp. The gentle breeze tousled her hair and soothed her with its cool caress. The small garden behind Richard’s townhome was a peaceful oasis to her worry and misery. It looked out over the Water of Leith, a stream that could be reached by a footpath behind the housing row. The sound of its rushing water sang softly to Eve, the delicate lacework of shadows cast by the trees cooled and calmed.

  Laurie practiced his golf swing on the small open lawn between the steep descent to the water and the rear of the house. Trist played along as well, swinging his own small club, and balls littered the area since few of their swings produced a drive of more than a few yards.

  Calling an occas
ional bit of advice or encouragement, Eve watched her son with quiet pride. Perhaps when this was all over and she managed to wed Francis, they might have several more children, perhaps a dozen, like his own family. She smiled at the thought. Francis would make an excellent father, she believed. He would not be one to consign his children to the nursery and have them brought down for an occasional inspection. She could easily picture him lying on the floor playing at toy soldiers with his son or even maybe taking tea with a daughter.

  She wanted that with him. Marriage with him might be something beyond her experience but was certainly worth exploring. Their love would be constant and sharing, their lives filled with laughter and affection. With a sigh, Eve felt as if peace were flowing over her as she imagined their future together. Regardless of recent events and her emotional outburst, she had to believe that all would be well. Even now, Richard and Jack were mapping out the details of their plan. The footman sent to follow William had lost him on the busy streets of Old Town, so they knew only that he was somewhere near the east end of Edinburgh, an area comprised mostly of public and government buildings.

  Currently the plan was to hide some Bobbies in the house and, when William came again, she would attempt to obtain a verbal confession from him within their hearing. As a back-up plan, the men were assigning areas for their own posse comprised of footmen and stable boys, to ferret out William’s hiding place in Old Town and coerce a confession from him that would free Francis from his incarceration.

  It would take a confession. They were all sure of that, since all the evidence, as circumstantial as it was, pointed directly at Francis, while there was nothing they knew of to implicate William. Merely bringing him in might not be enough to exonerate Francis. Nevertheless, Eve felt confident that they would prevail. Where an hour before fear and doubts had clouded her mind, the release of that anxiety had allowed her to see that truth was on their side and, in the end, would win out. It was the defense of the naïve perhaps, but she was sure that, once William was located, they might be able to compel a confession within the hearing of some authority.

 

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