Act of Exposure by Cathryn Cooper Read Free Book Online

was something
familiar about him, almost as though she should know him quite
well.
    She let it go.
She had met him in the Red Devil Club where her name was Carmel
when she wasn't dancing, and Jezebel Justice when she was. Now she
was home, and now she was Abigail Corrigan and had a right to a
black gown and white wig. In her other life it truly was part of
her profession.
     
     

Chapter
4
     
    John
Humphries, QC, had lately been honoured to receive the red cloak of
a high court judge. Like many professional men whose acquaintances
cross the social divide, he had an eye for the main chance. Public
image was as important to him as the woman who was still his wife,
the sons at Cambridge, and the elegant mistress whose pedigree was
far superior to his own. Therefore, many were invited to celebrate
his success in the auspicious surroundings of Trendleham Court, his
magnificent Elizabethan house that sat ringed with yew trees near
the Cotswold village of Blockley.
    Besides his
colleagues in chambers - judges, high ranking barristers,
solicitors, and police commissioners - his guest list also included
politicians, celebrities, and last, but by no means least, those
employed in broadcasting and on newspapers.
    Television
presenters and journalists mingled with those whose weekly income
could keep a traditional journalist in booze and birds for the rest
of his life - almost.
    John Humphries
did not know the sprinkling of media people either socially or
professionally. A less astute man would have considered their
presence unnecessary. After all, their masters were there, so why
invite the boys from the engine room? But John Humphries had got
where he was by being shrewd and using what he had and what he
knew. Part of that knowledge was that one whisper of scandal at
ground level in a newspaper office, and the rich newspaper
proprietor would grasp the chance of getting richer. Accordingly,
he invited the boys from the engine room, placated them with good
food and fine wine. He also presented them with the picture of a
successful man, a family man, and best of all, a highly moral
man.
    On such
occasions, his mistress, a very understanding woman in her late
thirties and with a private income, stayed firmly out of the
picture. His wife, bless her, did not allow mention of his
mistress's name, but did know of her existence. Sex, she
philosophized, did not necessarily mean love.
    Within the
oak-panelled room, where lead-paned windows looked out towards the
Severn, voices brimming with authority, knowledge and general
gossip blended in a rich chorus that lay heavy on the ear.
    Commensurate
with such gatherings, some people drew more attention and
admiration than others. Some also drew offers to have lunch, have
dinner, and much, much more.
    Abigail
Corrigan, QC, a colleague in chambers of the honoured gentleman,
was such a person.
    Not only did
she turn heads because of her legal track record, which, in all
honesty, was outstanding for someone of her age, but Abigail was
stunning to look at too. Clear blue eyes gazed from above high
cheekbones. Her nose was straight, her lips, so adept at delivering
verbal broadsides, looked capable of planting the most luscious of
kisses. They were also very pale in colour, which made her eyes
look even bluer, her cheekbones even higher.
    Perhaps
inherited from some Scandinavian ancestor, her hair was silvery
blonde, her figure long and lithe, her skin creamy rather than icy
white.
    Many who knew
her nodded genially whenever they met her, respect glowing on their
faces, their admiration further revealed by the way they spoke of
her.
    'Youngest ever
called to the bar. And a woman at that!'
    'I've heard
her in court. Cutting in her cross examination, and enigmatic in
her summing up. Deadly. Very deadly.'
    'They do say
the female of the species is deadlier than the male,' mused a
learned man with bushy grey eyebrows and an expressive twinkle in
his eye. 'And if I was twenty years younger, I'd make it my job