A New York Christmas (Christmas Novellas 12) by Perry Anne

Author:Perry, Anne [Perry, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2014-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

Jemima remembered those words all afternoon sitting alone in her cell with its solitary window far above her eye level. She could hear other women prisoners shouting and sometimes even laughing, but it was a hard, raucous sound, totally without pleasure.

The white light, reflected off snow, was beginning to fade. She was finding it very hard to keep hope when one of the guards returned, brandishing the keys.

‘Your lucky day,’ he said without a smile. ‘Someone put up bail for you.’ He unlocked the door noisily and pulled it wide. ‘I guess that means we don’t have to give you supper.’

Mr Albright? Harley, relenting? It was his testimony that had put her here, at least mostly. Or Phinnie? Maybe she had prevailed upon Brent to come?

‘Thank you,’ she said to the guard, and went out through the iron bar door as quickly as she could. ‘How do I get . . .?’ And then she wondered if she would be welcomed back into the Albright house. Perhaps not. Where could she stay? She couldn’t leave the city because she was on bail, but she did not have sufficient money to pay for her own lodgings for as long as it might be before she came to trial. It was mid-winter, nearly Christmas. She would freeze to death without shelter. The streets would be worse than gaol.

The guard was looking at her. He sighed. ‘She’s out there waiting for you. You’d better get out of here before she changes her mind.’

Jemima’s heart rose. It must be Phinnie after all. Phinnie, of all people, would know that she could never have hurt Maria Cardew, let alone killed her.

‘Thank you,’ she said hastily to the guard. Then she followed him along the stone passageway and, this time, out as far as the entrance.

But it was not Phinnie who stood waiting for her, it was Celia Albright. She was wearing a very ordinary dark cape over her dress and a hat that could have belonged to anyone. She seemed to have shrunken into herself as if the cold ached in her bones. However, her face lit with relief when she saw Jemima and she moved towards her quickly, searching her face.

‘Are you all right? No one has hurt you?’

‘I am perfectly well,’ Jemima answered as levelly as she could, but her voice was thick with emotion. ‘Just cold and . . . frightened.’

‘Of course you are,’ Celia agreed. ‘Come, we must get out of here as quickly as possible. It is a dreadful place. The carriage is waiting around the corner; there is no room for it here.’ She led the way at a brisk pace and, all but treading on her heels, Jemima followed. It was getting dark and the streetlights, less elegant in this part of the city, were still bright and beginning to glow. It was ten days until Christmas.

As soon as they were seated in the carriage it moved away.

‘Thank you,’ Jemima said again, meaning it with a depth of feeling she could not conceal.

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