Night Fire by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online Page A

Arielle simply sat there and watched him choke to death.”
    â€œThat sounds rather unlikely.”
    â€œI suppose so. I shouldn’t simply sit here and watch you make a spectacle of yourself, believe me.”
    â€œHave you seen Arielle since her hus—since Rendel died?”
    â€œOnce, when I was visiting a friend in East Grinstead, Lady Fanchaut, you know. She took me to this marvelous little modiste shop there, just off High Street, and there were the most clever ribbons for my new bonnet and—”
    â€œWhen was this? How did she appear?”
    Lannie finished her vermicelli soup and wondered briefly if her waistline could afford just a bit more. She sighed and shook her head at herself. She motioned to the footman, Robert, to serve her some fricasseed chicken.
    â€œLannie?”
    â€œWhat? Oh, yes, Arielle. As I said, I saw her in East Grinstead. She appeared well, I suppose. Well, not really all that well. Different. She was too thin, but then she always was. It was odd. She wasn’t wearing mourning.” Lannie paused a moment, her head cocked to one side. “Why all this interest in Lady Rendel, Burke?”
    Before Burke could come up with an adequate response, Lannie said, “It’s quite ridiculous to call her Lady Rendel. She is only eighteen years old, for heaven’s sake. Well, when you see her, do say hello. I enjoyed her company when she was younger.”
    RENDEL HALL
    Arielle very slowly set down her tambour frame. “Where did you hear that, Dorcas?”
    â€œWhy, in the village. Mrs. Cranage saw him and she told me he wasn’t alone.”
    â€œEvan,” Arielle said very slowly, her eyes suddenly wide and strained.
    â€œYes, that’s right. Etienne DuPons was with that bounder of a half brother of yours. The only thing I don’t understand is why. What would Evan Goddis want with that man? It’s not as if he had any money.”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Arielle. “I had thought that Etienne had returned to France right after his father’s funeral.”
    â€œPerhaps he did, but now he’s back. Return of bad garbage, I say.”
    â€œIs there ever any good garbage, Dorcas?”
    Dorcas raised her head from her tatting at that. “A smile. Excellent, Miss Arielle. You should smile more, you know. Lord Rendel has been dead a long time now. You should get out, go to parties and balls. You should—”
    Arielle raised her hand to stem the advice tide. “No, not yet. I will go out when I am ready.”
    When would that be? Dorcas wondered, returning to her tatting. Poor Miss Arielle; the child had suffered so much at the hands of that monster, and now, well, what was keeping her at Rendel Hall, as if she were still a prisoner?
    â€œI certainly hope you don’t mourn him for a full year.”
    Arielle looked at the pale yellow of her muslin gown. Hardly mourning. Celebration colors, that was all she wore. She looked over at Dorcas, not only her former nanny and maid, but now also her companion. The old woman was the only person on the face of the earth who cared about her. She still had no idea where Nesta and her husband were. She’d gotten a tattered envelope containing a brief note from Nesta some four months before, from a place called Macau. Nesta had said nothing about coming home.
    Arielle rose from her chair and walked to the wide bow windows that overlooked the sloping front lawn of Rendel Hall. It was hers now, all of it. She wasn’t wildly rich, but rich enough to do anything that pleased her; at least that was what her estate manager, Mr. Harold Jewells, continued to tell her at their Monday morning meetings. Two Mondays ago he’d hinted that she should go down to London and enjoy herself, and she’d merely stared at him. No, she couldn’t go anywhere. Not yet. She was too afraid. She was still too ashamed. People would know if they saw her. They would see the