• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Usually I don’t mind people using my first name—who does these days?—but the way he said it made my skin crawl. My hand itched to smack the smug expression off his face. With an effort I kept it anchored to my soup spoon.

I took a mouthful of consommé. I was tempted to spit it at him but good sense prevailed and I swallowed. The delicious taste put me in a better frame of mind.

While I was eating, I tried to work out the best way to begin a conversation with Lady Justina. Remembering my heavy-handed attempt at gaining information in the wood, I turned to her and apologized.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said softly, hoping Sir Alastair couldn’t hear us.

“It does not matter.”

“I’d like to explain why—”

“It does not matter.” She was doing her best to end our conversation before it had even begun.

I tried a different tack.

“You have the most beautiful hair. How do you get it so shiny?”

She smiled. What woman doesn’t like a compliment on her appearance? She ran a hand over the thick black tresses. “Thank you.”

Sir Alastair interrupted us. “What are you talking about?”

“I was admiring your wife’s hair,” I replied.

To my surprise he got to his feet, moving around the table to position himself behind her chair. He gathered her hair in his hands and let the stands slide sensuously through his fingers.

“She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?”

He stroked her long neck. Then he bent and planted a kiss on her pale skin. It was obscene. Not because of the eroticism implicit in his every move but because Lady Justina was so clearly uncomfortable. Once again I thought of a jailor and his prisoner.

Casper said, “Sir Alastair, do you fish?”

My wonderful guardian angel had fastened on the one subject designed to fully engage Sir Alastair’s attention. Our host beamed. Forgetting about his wife, he returned to his chair and began an in-depth discussion of rods and bait and…

I took advantage of the opportunity to turn to Lady Justina.

I wanted to ask her immediately what hold Sir Alastair had over her but I knew she’d clam up. I had to go carefully. She wouldn’t let anything slip unless she trusted me.

“You and Sir Alastair seem very happy,” I began. More lies. I told myself it was for the greater good. With luck I might be able to help Lady Justina escape from her husband.

Right now, though, she was staring at me as though I was deranged. I guess it had something to do with my comment about them being happily married.

Ignoring her horrified expression, I asked, “How did the two of you meet?”

“We met in Edinburgh,” she said. “I worked in a shop.”

“What kind of shop?”

“A book shop. Sir Alastair bought some books. He took me out to dinner. We got on well and—and—three months later we got married.”

Her story matched Sir Alastair’s exactly. Almost too exactly.

“You’re very brave,” I said to her.

“Brave?”

“To marry someone you’ve only known for three months.”

“It seemed right,” she said.

“I guess it was if you’re happy.”

“Happy. Yes.” She was the saddest woman I’d ever seen.

“If you need help,” I said, lowering my voice, “I’ll do what I can.”

“Why would I need help?” she asked.

“If you wanted a divorce.”

“A divorce? How would that help?”

“You’d be free of him.”

“I will never be free.”

“If you’re frightened of him, there are things you can do. Laws to protect you.”

“It is not that simple,” she said. “Please do not speak of this again.”

“Why not?”

“It is dangerous.”

I wanted to press her for more information but she abruptly cut off our conversation by joining the discussion on fishing.

Casper glanced at me. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking whether I had gotten what I needed. I gave a little shake of my head. All I had was what I’d had before—a strong suspicion that Lady Justina was living with Sir Alastair against her will.

I wondered whether she was a battered wife. Covertly I studied her exposed skin for bruises. None were visible but even if I was wrong about that, there was something very odd about Lady