That Silent Night by TASHA ALEXANDER Read Free Book Online Page A

unfortunate, Aunt Clara did not learn of his death until after Adelaide had already been sent to an orphanage somewhere in London, where the girl succumbed to consumption, just like her mother. Penelope was never able to mourn properly.”
    â€œDo you know which orphanage?” I asked. “I wonder if it would help your wife to be able to visit her sister’s grave?”
    â€œHer aunt had the same thought, but evidently the burials given to orphans are not…” Mr. Leighton sighed. “It is not clear where, precisely, the girl was interred. I do not think there is much point in further pursuing it. More important is to stop this wretched woman from standing outside and tormenting my wife.”
    â€œAgreed,” Colin said. “And that should not prove too difficult. I can have a constable patrol the street with greater frequency and ,if you like, you and I can take watches until she turns up, although I would not be surprised if she stops the moment she takes note of any police presence.”
    â€œWho do you think she is?” I asked.
    â€œI have not the slightest interest,” Mr. Leighton said. “I just want her to go away.”
    â€œThere is nothing on the locket indicating its maker, so unless she knew Adelaide, it is unlikely that she could have connected the necklace to your wife. Perhaps her friendship with Adelaide—“
    â€œPenelope does not need some down-on-her-luck street woman worming into her life. Forgive me if my words sound harsh, but her nerves—“
    â€œI agree, Mr. Leighton,” I said. “Yet if this woman can speak to her about her sister, it might help your wife feel some sort of closure. Can you imagine the guilt that must plague her? To know that she was plucked away from the life that killed Adelaide? She lived in comfort while her sister wasted away in an orphanage.”
    â€œShe is not to blame for any of that,” he said.
    â€œOf course not,” I said. “But I do not think your wife views it that way. She is consumed with—“
    â€œYou cannot know what is in her head,” Mr. Leighton said. “I am sorry, Lady Emily, I know you are only trying to help, and I do appreciate it, but my darling Pen has been through too much already. I think we shall quit England altogether and live abroad. No ghosts—real or imagined—will haunt her there.”
    Colin shot me a meaningful look, and I excused myself, assuring Mr. Leighton that he had not offended me. When my husband came to me in the library nearly an hour later, frustration clouded his handsome features.
    â€œI did not learn much in your absence,” he said. “Leighton insists that he has tried to help his wife come to terms with her losses, but that nothing helps. He admitted to me that seeing the woman outside the park brought her to the brink, and I think if you had not also seen her he would be halfway to letting Dr. Holton convince him to have her committed.”
    â€œBut he clearly adores her,” I said.
    â€œAnd he believes she needs treatment.”
    I sighed. “I want to find her sister’s grave. Even if she was not buried alone or even if the grave has no marker, I am convinced it would be helpful for Mrs. Leighton to go to the spot and place a wreath of flowers.”
    â€œPauper’s graves are not easy to find. Leighton gave me the name of the orphanage, but knew little else,” Colin said. “I assume you want to leave immediately?”
    *   *   *
    The carriage ride through the East End thoroughly depressed me. Painfully thin children in tattered coats raced along the pavements, sliding through the snow, their laughter not enough to compensate for their lack of food and warm clothing. The orphanage was even worse. A sad little Christmas tree stood in the center of the large room that served as a reception area, but there were no sounds of joy to be heard here, not even a bit of