Axel by Burrowes Grace

Author:Burrowes, Grace [Burrowes, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781941419205
Publisher: Grace Burrowes Publishing
Published: 2015-12-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Axel was down the corridor faster than a plummeting hawk, his arms around a distraught Abigail.

“Gun,” she panted, gaze fixed on the open door to the study. “He has a gun. A man, in there—” She waved toward the study, her whole body trembling. “There’s a safe, and a gun, and you can’t go—”

“You lot,” Axel barked at the servants assembling at the top of the steps. “See to Mrs. Stoneleigh.”

He thrust Abby in Mrs. Jensen’s direction, stole a look into the study, then strode in, swiped the gun off the sideboard and set it on the desk.

“You wait right there,” he instructed Shreve, who looked ready to wet himself, “or I’ll arrest you before you twitch in the direction of the door.”

Shreve had given Abigail an awful fright, and for that alone, he should be arrested, questions of murder and thievery aside. Axel went back to the corridor, where servants in various stages of unliveried dishabille remained gawking.

“Mrs. Stoneleigh was understandably upset to find an unexpected situation at the scene of her husband’s demise,” Axel said. “You may return below stairs.”

The lot of them remained unmoving.

“You may return below stairs now.”

“Please do as Mr. Belmont asks,” Abby said. “Thank you all for coming to my aid.”

Mrs. Jensen, a formidable, aging blonde with a hint of pumpernickel in her speech, drew herself up.

“I can remain, if madam would like.”

The footmen, maids, and assorted others were clearly willing to remain as well. Now they showed loyalty to their mistress?

“I was simply startled, and I’d forgotten today was half day,” Abby said. “Mr. Belmont will summon help if it’s needed. Before I leave the premises, I’ll impose on Mrs. Jensen for a chat.”

“Of course, madam.” The housekeeper cast Axel a sniffy glance, then herded her charges in the direction of the stairs.

“I’m fine,” Abby said when her staff had departed. “That’s Shreve in the study?”

She sounded fine, but she was adept at sounding fine. She was once again the pale, self-contained creature Axel had encountered the night of the murder.

“Shreve has swooned by now,” Axel said. “The damned nerve of the man, giving you a fright like that. You’ll assist with this interview, if you’re up to joining me in there. All you need do is look bereaved and affronted, which one supposes you are, though you should also ask any questions that come to mind.”

He held out a hand, a presumption—a hopeful presumption, because he needed to touch her.

Abby studied his outstretched palm as if it held a blue and purple rose. “You want me to ask Shreve questions?”

“Of course.” Involving her in the interrogation was the only reasonable means of keeping her by Axel’s side. “That was a fine specimen of a scream, Abigail.”

She grasped his hand. “I’ve been saving up, apparently.”

They lady preceded Axel into the study, head held high. “Shreve, you have a deal of explaining to do. Mr. Belmont is by nature a patient and fair man, but the circumstances are most troubling. Set aside any notion you harbor of dissembling, or the gallows could await you.

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