Murder in Paradise by Alanna Knight Read Free Book Online Page A

had given the wrong verdict? Only two had called for the guilty verdict and he could imagine how they were shouted down. They could not hang her. Such a verdict would have met with public outrage.
    Now walking a few steps behind Erland, who had his arm about his bride-to-be, Faro was faced with a dilemma indeed.
    Erland obviously had no idea of her true identity. She had lied to him, presented an ingenuous story about being orphaned, an aunt who had died. She would consider herself safe in the bohemian circle of Red House.
    But would she be content to marry Erland and bury the past or was he merely a stepping stone to something greater? She was capable of sexual passion, no one could doubt. This Faro knew from the evidence and those love letters to Emile, so explicit that the court realised they were too indecent to be read out loud.
    Suddenly at his side, behind Lena and Erland, he was aware of a pretty girl, her companion who had emerged from the wagonette. He had been introduced to her, but in his all-consuming anxiety, he had promptly forgotten her name.
    She was laden with parcels and, remembering his manners, he took them from her, this humble act of chivalry rewarded with a sweet smile as she looked up into his face. Now she was talking, telling him all about their shopping expedition to London, what a splendid visit and how they had been lavishly entertained by such a nice man, a special friend of Topsy, his business manager called George Wardle.
    Faro was hardly listening, following Erland into the house, who looked over his shoulder and gave him a knowing wink at the girl on his arm and called, ‘Jeremy will take good care of you, Poppy.’
    The front door closed behind them and at once Faro bowed, put down the parcels, made his excuses and fled to his room with its Gothic windows and wall slits for arrows, as if this was indeed a medieval castle and he was a condemned man.
    Glad to be alone, he groaned.
    What on earth was he to do? He could not stand by his friend’s side at the altar in a few days’ time and ignore the fact that he knew ‘just cause and impediment why these two should not be joined together in holy matrimony’.
    Now remembering those past schooldays in Orkney how Erland had relied upon him to fight his battles, could he choose that moment to publicly blight his future, break his heart?
    One thing was certain. He could not remain in Red House any longer. He must make an excuse, tell a lie, say that Macheath had been spotted and that he must go in pursuit.
    But even as he seized his few possessions and thrust them into his valise, he knew he could not do it. Such was the coward’s way out. Even if he left, his action could certainly not stop Erland going to the church and taking Lena Hamilton alias Madeleine Smith, the Glasgow poisoner, as his wedded wife.
    That was bad enough but what of the future? What of Erland’s own safety should some more attractive possibility come her way, another William Minnoch who had a great deal more to offer.
    A way out of this dire situation must be found. Who was this George Wardle that Poppy had been so enthusiastic about, and his warm reception during their London shopping visit? He must find out more about him.
    As the occupants of the house assembled for the evening meal, at the gong’s loud summons Morris came up from the cellar, beaming with joy, his hands full of wine bottles with more tucked rather perilously under his arms while Faro’s fears of getting through the evening were relieved by the absence of Erland and Lena, as well as Poppy. The trio, he was told, had been invited to dine with the local minister.
    But seated at that round table, a gastronomic delight was in store: a splendid meal of gargantuan proportions. There was a leg of lamb from the local butcher, a variety of vegetables and fruit home-grown in the gardens, and apples and blackberries for a rich dessert.
    Each course was accompanied by fine wines. Faro had learnt his lesson and