In the Barrister's Chambers (27 page)
Read In the Barrister's Chambers Online
Authors: Tina Gabrielle
Chapter 41
She woke cold and aching. Sitting upright, her back was pressed against a hard object. Her arms were behind her, and when she tried to move them her muscles screamed from the pain. She felt drained, lifeless, and she fought the urge to drift back into wisps of sleep.
She opened her eyes, disoriented.
Her hands were tied behind her back.
“Good. You're awake.”
She recognized the voice moments before Simon Guthrie's face came into view.
She remembered. Dear Lord, she remembered everything.
“What did you do to me?” Her tongue was thick in her throat.
“Ether is potent and works quickly. As an Oxford Fellow, I have access to all types of useful chemicals.”
A tight knot formed in her stomach. “Where are we?”
“Bess Whitfield's grave site.”
As the final traces of the ether wore off, Evelyn noticed the odd shapes of the tombstones looming in the distance. A sliver of a moon cast them in shadows. Gooseflesh rose on her arms.
She recalled the location of Bess's grave from the last time she had been here with Jack spying on Earl Newland. Bess's grave was in the center of the graveyard, three rows from the stone path. She swallowed hard as she looked around. No mourners were present at this time of night.
“Untie me,” she demanded, her voice shrill.
He laughed. “All in good time.”
He paced before her, the diary in his hands, the hilt of the knife visible in the waistband of his trousers. Her vulnerability struck her like a blow to her chest.
She was alone after dark in an empty graveyard with a killer.
Simon stopped suddenly and rubbed his temples. Cursing beneath his breath, he muttered incoherently seemingly oblivious to her presence.
Evelyn's eyes widened as she stared at his bizarre behavior. But then just as suddenly he dropped his hands to his sides and squatted down before her. His black eyes impaled her.
She jerked, pulling at the bindings behind her back. The letter opener in her pocket jabbed her thigh. Her mind raced. If she could just reach it, she may be able to cut through the bindings on her hands.
She had to keep him talking, distracted.
“How do you intend to use the diary now? You are a known murderer. The authorities will search for you,” she said.
He waved a hand dismissively. “There are those that will still pay to keep the diary out of the hands of the press.”
“You mean Viscount Hamilton, Earl Newland, and my father.”
“As well as several other influential past lovers Bess entertained.”
“It won't work. You'll be caught.”
“By your lover Jack Harding?”
At her shocked expression, he laughed. “Don't act so surprised. I know you are lovers.”
“Mr. Harding has nothing to do with this.”
“You're wrong. He saw me leaving Bess's old dressing room. He knows my identity. I have no choice but to silence him. That's what you are for, Evelyn. Bait. When Jack comes to save you, I'm going to kill him.”
He stood and resumed his pacing. He went back to rubbing his temples, then stiffened in what appeared to be a seizure before relaxing and cradling his head in his limp hands.
He's ill and insane!
she thought.
He has no conscience about taking human life.
she thought.
He has no conscience about taking human life.
She shifted to the side, frantically trying to reach her skirt pocket. Fear spurted through her until at last she managed to grasp the letter opener. Twisting it in her hands, she worked her bindings. The opener slipped from her grasp twice, and the blade sliced her flesh. Blood made the handle slippery and hard to hold. Determination pulsed through her. She had to get free, had to act. She could not allow Jack to walk into Simon's trap.
Simon Guthrie must not harm another person.
He raised his head from his hands and regarded her with renewed interest.
“Does Randolph know of your plans?” she asked.
Keep working the bindings and keep him talking!
Keep working the bindings and keep him talking!
“Randolph?” he scoffed. “He's too weak to stomach any of this. He would be happy to remain at university all his life.”
“You were our friend! We trusted you!”
The opener cut through the last of the bindings, and her hands were free. She kept them behind her back waiting for the right moment.
Squatting before her, Simon's eyes gleamed. “I've always admired you, Evelyn. I even fancied having you for myself after Randolph was found guilty at trial and imprisoned.” Reaching out, he wound a hand in her hair in a possessive gesture. “I planned to console you. I know you like intellectuals and University Fellows. I would have stepped into Randolph's shoes and married you.”
It took Evelyn every ounce of willpower not to strike out and remove his hateful touch.
You must wait until he is most vulnerable or he will easily overpower you!
You must wait until he is most vulnerable or he will easily overpower you!
She raised her chin in defiance. “I would never marry you, Simon.”
His fist tightened painfully in her hair before he shoved her away. “You would have! But it doesn't matter now. You were stupid enough to sleep with Jack Harding and ruin everything. Randolph was too blind to see the lust between you two, but I knew all along. Disgusting!” he spat, spittle spraying her face. “You are a disgusting whore just like Bess. You'll help me kill Jack Harding, and then you will die the same way, by my hand.”
He stood and turned his back on her.
The opening was all she needed. Springing to her feet, she raised the letter opener and stabbed him between his shoulder blades with all her might.
Simon's blood-curdling scream pierced the night air.
Grasping her skirts, she spun on her heel and sprinted in the opposite direction.
Tombstones loomed before her and she darted around them. Heavy footsteps sounded behind her, and she knew Simon was close behind. Sheer black fright swept through her. She tripped over a root and fell, her ankle turning on the uneven ground. She rose and took flight, each step bringing pain.
He was going to catch her. She would never make it to the main road.
She veered off the stone path. Moonlight glanced off the shape of the mausoleum. Making a split decision, she headed for the stone building. If the gates were open, she could lock herself inside, buy herself time until Jack arrived and she could scream a warning.
She reached the tall gate to the entrance of the mausoleum and prayed it wasn't locked. Her fingers curled around the wrought iron and pulled.
The heavy gate creaked loudly as it swung open, and she darted inside. She reached for the large padlock that hung on the gate. Her breath was shallow and ragged as Simon's footsteps came closer and closer. Her fingers trembled and she feared she wouldn't make it in time, then the lock slid in place.
A split second later, Simon crashed against the gate.
She jumped back.
“Bitch! You think this will stop me?”
“I'll scream a warning to Jack. He'll not walk into your trap!”
Simon rattled the gate. The sound battered her panicked senses.
She turned and plunged into the building. The torches in the sconces on the walls had long been extinguished, and blackness met her eyes. The heels of her shoes echoed off the stone floor and walls of the cavernous space. She pictured the burial chambers that lined both sides of the walls.
It was cold and deathly silent save for the sound of her harsh breathing. She could no longer hear Simon rattling the gate or his vicious curses. She stopped and leaned against the mausoleum's wall, surrounded by death.
Minutes passed. Jack would be arriving soon. She had to venture back and somehow shout a warning. The only comforting thought was that Simon could not hold her at knifepoint and threaten Jack with her life.
Then a terrible sound reached her as a gate in the rear of the mausoleum creaked open.
Simon! She never suspected there was a back entrance to the building.
Simon's shriek pierced her ears. “Stupid female! There's no place to hide from me.”
Evelyn turned and flew to the front gate only to recall it was locked.
Trapped.
She gasped, panting in terror. He would kill her. She would never be able to warn Jack.
She reached the front gate, her fingers curling around the iron bars. She screamed, praying for someone to hear her, praying for a miracle.
“Evelyn!”
Jack's voice!
Crying out in relief, she grasped his arms through the gate. His green eyes blazed in the pale light of the moon.
“Where's Simon?” His tone was harsh.
“Close behind. He has a knife!”
“Step aside.”
Jack pulled out a pistol and shot the padlock. It sheared clean off the gate, and then she was free. She desperately wanted Jack to hold her, but he held her away from him.
“It's over, Simon!” Jack shouted into the blackness of the mausoleum.
Heavy footfalls could be heard as Simon retreated back through the building.
Jack took off in pursuit.
She hesitated, uncertain what to do, and then went after them. Her ankle throbbed, but she ignored the pain. They ran through the building and out the back gate. She heard other male voices and saw Anthony, Brent, and James Devlin follow.
They chased Simon past the rows of tombstones and into the street.
Unlike the graveyard, the street was well lit. She could make out Jack and his fellow barristers pursuing Simon. Anthony was in the lead, gaining on Simon. Jack was a few steps behind, grasping his arm as he ran.
Simon glanced behind him, saw the pack of men chasing him, and sprinted heedlessly across the street toward a dark alley like hunted prey desperate to evade his pursuers. Just then a fast-traveling coach turned the corner and bore down on him. The driver yelled and tried to rein in the team of six horses. The horses reared and screamed as heavy traveling trunks flew from the top of the coach. But the coach failed to stop in time. Evelyn watched, aghast, as Simon was savagely trampled and crushed by flailing hooves and iron wheels.
Chapter 42
Hours later Jack found himself back in Lord Lyndale's library. Jack had previously sent for Constable Floyd Birmingham, and Simon's body had been carted away. Birmingham had questions before the murder investigation could be closed, and Anthony, accompanied by another constable, had been sent to fetch Randolph Sheldon from Newgate.
Jack glanced about the room. His fellow barristers, Randolph, and Lord Lyndale waited for Evelyn. Randolph stood awkwardly, his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched forward. The spacious library appeared much smaller with everyone crammed inside, and a tense silence enveloped the room.
The seconds ticked by on the mantel clock. Jack's nerves wound tighter with each tick, and after ten minutes he decided to go in search of Evelyn.
Brent stopped him and spoke in his ear.
“Be patient, Jack. She's being tended.”
The door opened, and Evelyn entered, escorted by Dr. Mason and Constable Birmingham. Leaning heavily on the doctor's arm, she limped forward and sat in a cushioned settee by the fireplace, her wrapped ankle resting on a stool.
Jack had not been able to speak with Evelyn privately since shooting the lock off the mausoleum gate and freeing her. After Simon's death, they had been swarmed by peopleâhis friends, the neighbors who had come outside at hearing their shouts, and then the constables.
Evelyn noticed Randolph huddled in the corner. His normally thin face appeared gaunt, his cheekbones sunken hollows. Her blue eyes widened. “Randolph.”
Randolph's voice was a low murmur. “Hello, Evelyn.”
Evelyn turned to Jack, and their eyes held across the room. He watched the play of emotions on her face. Fear, relief, gratitude . . . and was that a glimmer of affection?
Jack wanted to rush to her side, pull her into his arms, and kiss her, but Brent's restraining grasp on his shoulder brought him to his senses. Even after what they had gone through, Jack had to maintain appearances before all these people.
Frustration roiled in his chest. She was so near, yet he was forced to wait.
Constable Birmingham cleared his throat. “Bow Street acknowledges that Simon Guthrie was Bess Whitfield's murderer. However, I have questions before Mr. Sheldon is free to leave.”
“Wait,” Lyndale said, and leveled his gaze at Randolph. “I have a question that cannot wait. When did you learn about my relations with Miss Whitfield?”
Randolph's face reddened. “Bess confided in me that you were her benefactor before I accepted the position as your Fellow, my lord. I've known for years.”
Lyndale let out a long breath and reached out to touch his daughter's hand. “I owe you an apology, my dear. I'm sorry for not telling you about my indiscretion. My only excuse is that I acted out of loneliness.”
Tears glistened in Evelyn's eyes. Nodding once, she squeezed her father's hand.
Birmingham cleared his throat and glared at Randolph. “Back to the matter at hand, Mr. Sheldon. If you had known about Lord Lyndale's affair with Miss Whitfield, then you must have known Simon was also intimate with her,” he pointed out.
Randolph reluctantly nodded. “Bess did not begin her affair with Simon until years later. She had mentioned that she found an Oxford student interesting, but I didn't know it was Simon for certain until after she gave me her diary, and I concluded âSam' was Simon. I never told Simon that I knew.”
“Why didn't you tell anyone about the diary?” Jack asked.
“Bess asked me to keep the diary a secret. But more than my vow to my cousin, I sought to protect my mentor and my best friend. I thought if I revealed the diary, and Lord Lyndale's and Simon's affairs with Bess Whitfield were discovered, then they would be suspected of her murder. So I hid the diary in Lord Lyndale's library. Never could I have imagined Simon was capable of murder!”
Evelyn spoke up. “Simon Guthrie was not in his right mind. I never noticed in the past, but tonight, when he drugged and kidnapped me, his behavior was bizarre. He would grasp his head in his hands and dig his fingers into his temples. At one point I thought he had a seizure.”
Jack knew by the way Randolph hung his head that he'd been informed by Anthony of what Simon had done to Evelyn.
Randolph reached for a water glass with a shaky hand. He swallowed the contents and set the glass down. “Although there is no excuse for his behavior, Simon was ill. I accompanied him a year ago to see a physician for his headaches. A tumor was suspected. We never said a word for fear he would lose his Fellowship position.”
“Simon was not satisfied with his position at the university,” Evelyn countered. “He planned to blackmail Bess's wealthy lovers, including my father.”
“Simon's doctor bills had exceeded his university stipend,” Randolph said. “The diary had mentioned that âSam' sought to blackmail Bess's lovers for money, and I assumed it was to pay off Simon's debts. But I also knew Bess would not go along with that, and without the diary, I thought Simon's plans were fruitless.”
“You were wrong,” Jack said.
Randolph's earnest eyes sought out Evelyn. “I never wanted to put you in danger, Evelyn. I had no idea as to the extent of Simon's depravity.”
“I believe you. I don't blame you for his actions,” Evelyn said.
“I felt sympathy for Simon because of his medical condition, and combined with the fact that I believed him to be my best friend, I never judged him for having an affair with my cousin. Neither did I judge Bess. Neglected as a child, she needed male attention like one needs water or air to survive. After Bess died, I sought only to protect Simon,” Randolph said.
“Your loyalty almost cost you your life,” Jack said, his tone harsh.
“There is one thing that remains unresolved,” Evelyn said. “Why didn't Simon tell the authorities Randolph was hiding in Shoreditch? And why did he aid Randolph in a bar brawl? Simon easily could have allowed the Bow Street Runners to arrest Randolph.”
“Simon didn't need Randolph arrested,” Jack answered. “Simon was never under suspicion for the murder. I suspect Simon believed Randolph could have led him to the diary. Simon had already unsuccessfully searched for the diary on his own. He was desperate, and Randolph was his last hope of finding it. Randolph was closest to Bess. Perhaps Simon thought Randolph could help him.”
Randolph sadly shook his head. “Simon often asked me about Bess's habits. I thought he was trying to solve her murder, but he was pumping me for information. He was brilliant, but manipulative.”
“At least the culprit is dead. Justice has been served,” Lord Lyndale said.
Jack clenched his jaw. “Justice? Simon intended to murder Evelyn. He died too honorably. As far as I'm concerned, I'd rather have seen him hanged.”
Birmingham's lips twitched with amusement. “Despite Mr. Harding's thirst for blood, he was invaluable in solving the murder, especially considering the uncooperativeness of his client.” The constable pointed a finger at Randolph. “As for you, Mr. Sheldon. You impeded our investigation. If it weren't for your barrister, you'd still be in jail rather than a free man.”
Randolph looked at Jack. “He's right. How can I ever repay you, Mr. Harding?”
“I'm to marry soon. It would mean much to my bride if you came to our wedding,” Jack said.
Confusion marred Randolph's brow. “I don't understand.”
“You can ask Lady Evelyn to explain it to you. I've obtained a special license, and we're exchanging vows next week.”
After everyone departed, Evelyn remained seated in the library. Her ankle no longer throbbed, but remained a dull ache. She exhaled slowly, her heartbeat calming for the first time that evening. The night had been frightful. There had been the shock of discovering Simon Guthrie was the murderer. Then she had roused from a drugged state bound in a graveyard, only to stab and flee Simon, and then unwittingly lock herself inside a mausoleum with him.
Despite the warmth in the room, she shivered.
Randolph was free and had left without shackles or a public taint on his name. But for as long as she lived, she would never forget the stunned, dazed look on his face after Jack's startling statement.
There was a low knock, and the door opened. Her head snapped up as Jack entered. He shut the door, and his eyes roamed over her face and rested on her wrapped ankle. His jaw clenched slightly. Then he came close, looking down at her with intensity, and sat beside her on the settee.
“You should have let me tell Randolph,” Evelyn admonished.
He cocked his head to the side, his jade eyes compelling. “Why? You said as soon as Randolph's legal matters were resolved we could announce our betrothal.”
“Are you always going to be this stubborn?”
There were traces of humor around his mouth and near his eyes. “I'm a barrister. I argue for a living.”
Evelyn couldn't control her burst of laughter. “It is impossible to stay angry at you, Jack Harding.”
“Evie, love. I've been waiting to speak with you alone.”
Her breath caught at his endearment and the hopeful flint that lit his eyes. Dark tendrils of hair curled on his forehead, and she resisted the urge to brush them back.
“I have as well, Jack,” she breathed.
He touched a finger to her lips. “
Hush,
darling. Me first. When I found Simon's note and I realized that murderer had abducted you, my heart stopped.”
Hush,
darling. Me first. When I found Simon's note and I realized that murderer had abducted you, my heart stopped.”
Evelyn's lip quivered. “Simon planned to court me, to take Randolph's place. But he knew about us. He decided to use me as bait to get to you. I was scared for my life. But what frightened me the most was that I wouldn't be able to warn you in time and that you would fall victim to Simon's trap. I couldn't allow that to happen. I thought if I locked myself in the mausoleum, I could stop Simon's plans and scream a warning to you.”
He reached out, lacing his fingers with hers. “Evelyn, love. You were so brave to escape him. I don't know of a single woman that would willingly lock herself in an oversized tomb.”
She choked, half laughing, half crying.
He raised her hand and pressed a kiss in her palm. His lips were warm and velvet soft, and her heart lurched in response.
“Do you know what I feared most?” he said. “I feared not being able to tell you the truth in my heart. My life is meaningless without you.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Meaningless? What of your career?”
“Nothing. It means nothing to me if you are not by my side as my wife. I love you, Evelyn Darlington.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she threw herself into his embrace. His arms tightened around her, and she could feel the strong beat of his heart through his shirt. “Oh, Jack. I've waited for so long to hear that, but deep down I knew the truth.”
He drew back and looked in her eyes. “How? I was a fool not to say the words.”
She fingered his lapel. “I knew because of your actions. You've done everything for me. You represented Randolph even though you did not wish to. You accompanied me to the Billingsgate fish market because you knew of my stubborn nature and that I would have gone alone. You offered to marry me to protect my reputation after my father caught us together. And you rushed to a graveyard in the middle of the night to save me from a lunatic intent on killing us both. What man would do such things if he wasn't in love?”
He grinned and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “You pose an excellent case. I couldn't begin to compose a sufficient counterargument.”
She shot him a saucy look. “I told you I'm quite good. Years of observation at Lincoln's Inn have honed my skills. You're fortunate I cannot become a barrister and oppose you in the courtroom. You would have met your match.”
In one forward motion she was lifted high into his arms and settled on his lap. “I believe I already have,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. And then he kissed her soundly on the mouth.
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