The Finer Things by Brenda Joyce

Author:Brenda Joyce [Joyce, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 0312961553
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 1997-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

By the time Blake arrived at the shop, both investigators were already in the process of interviewing Violette. Lady Allister met him at the door—she was already open for business—her expression grim. She immediately ushered him into her private office behind the front salon. “It is a good thing you have come, Blake,” she said in a low voice. “Lady Goodwin cannot possibly handle those two policemen.”

The inspectors were standing; Violette was seated. Her face was so white her skin seemed translucent. There were dark circles under her eyes. The moment Blake entered the room Violette looked over her shoulder and uttered a small cry upon seeing him. There was no mistaking her relief.

Inspector Howard came forward. “My lord, this is a surprise.”

Blake smiled without feeling. “I am in a shopping mood. And as you know, Lady Goodwin is a personal friend of mine. I could not possibly allow another clerk to attend me.”

Violette stared at him tremulously. “Blake. They’re asking me all kinds of questions.”

“Answer truthfully,” he said simply.

“It is really not necessary for you to be present,” Howard said calmly.

“Is there a law against it?” Blake returned in the same tone and with the same demeanor.

“Of course not. This is not a hearing.” Howard faced Violette. Lady Allister also remained present.

Blake shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. She was not a murderess, but this had already gone too far. And she had violated far too many rules, offending far too many nobles, by entering the world she had upon marrying Sir Thomas. Yet she was innocent, so surely she would not suffer the indignity of a trial. Perhaps it would be best if Sir Thomas’s body was autopsied, proving that he had died a natural death.

And if he hadn’t?

That possibility was distinctly disturbing.

“Let us continue, Lady Goodwin. So the night Sir Thomas died you dined alone at Harding Hall.”

“Yes,” Violette murmured, twisting her hands.

“I wonder why you would dine alone that particular night?” Howard mused. “Perhaps you had a reason for not wishing to be present at Goodwin Manor?”

“That is a terribly leading question, if it is even a question,” Blake objected with irritation. “Nor do I think Lady Goodwin understands the point you are driving at.”

“My lord,” Howard said, “we are questioning Lady Goodwin, informally, and we would appreciate your cooperation in this matter.”

“He wasn’t feeling well,” Violette burst out. “He hadn’t been well for days.”

“But you left him alone in order to share supper with the Hardings? Were you in the habit of leaving your husband alone when he was feeling poorly?”

“No, of course not.” Violette shot an anxious glance at Blake. “He told me to go and have a good time.”

“And you went, eagerly,” Howard stated. “Why didn’t you stay at home with Sir Thomas if he was ill?”

“I … I had never been invited to supper with an earl before,” Violette whispered, glancing at Blake again.

“Ah, yes. So now we arrive at another topic. How old are you, Lady Goodwin?”

Violette said, “Eighteen.

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