everything—a good and decent husband, kind, respected, and wealthy—and she left him … and me … to go back to a life on the streets. No one forced her to do that, she was just a … a whore! She chose that, no one made her. Some women have no choice; she had every choice in the world.” Now tears were running down her face and her voice was all but choked.
Jemima felt the burning pain and injustice of the situation, and a terrible pity for Phinnie. Her own childhood was filled with memories of love, laughter, and adventures, long, lovely days spent mostly with her mother and her brother, Daniel, as well. Phinnie had had none of that.
But no matter what Maria Cardew had been, or whatshe had done that was selfish, or even lewd or revolting, it didn’t change the fact that Jemima had not hurt her.
“I did not kill her, Phinnie,” she said firmly. “I have no idea who did. I just found her.”
“Why?” Phinnie challenged. “Why were you even looking for her?”
“Because Harley asked me to help him.”
Phinnie’s eyebrows rose. “Why would Harley want to find her?”
“For heaven’s sake!” Jemima said desperately. “To make sure she didn’t interrupt your wedding and embarrass you! Or embarrass the family, of course,” she added, remembering that Phinnie must know Harley as well as she did.
The color bleached out of Phinnie’s face and she looked stunned. “Harley asked
you
? That’s not what he said …”
“Really?” Jemima should not have been surprised. Except the thought that came fleetingly to her mind was whether it was Harley who was lying or Phinnie. “Think about it,” she went on. “How would I even know that your mother was in New York, let alone where to look for her?”
“Then … then maybe it was Celia,” Phinnie suggested. “She’s known my mother for years. She pretends to have liked her, but she’s very protective of the family. She would be; it’s her family too.”
“You aren’t suggesting that Celia killed your mother, surely?” Jemima was aghast. It was a monstrous notion. “Why, for heaven’s sake? That makes no sense at all!” And the moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew that it made very ugly sense, even though she could not believe it.
Phinnie met her eyes boldly. “Yes, it does. When I marry Brent, I will be mistress of this house. What will she be? I could understand it if she were not willing to see that happen.”
Jemima looked at her icily. “Yes, I believe you could. You have the advantage of me. I hadn’t even considered such a thing.”
Phinnie’s face tightened. She recognized the insult. “There’s rather a lot you don’t consider,” she retaliated. “You’ll probably end up like Celia, being hostess and housekeeper for your brother, if he marries and then loses his wife. Although of course he won’t have the Albright power or influence. Hardly anybody else has.”
“You really value that, don’t you?” Jemima stared at Phinnie as if she had not truly seen her before. “How far would you go to make sure you get it? The police thought you might have done it yourself, you know? I told them that was impossible. That you were not the kind of person who would even think of such a thing. Perhaps I was wrong?”
Phinnie blushed scarlet. “You told them that?”
“Yes. And you’re right, I am naïve,” Jemima replied. “But perhaps they will discover that for themselves.” She turned to walk away, but Phinnie grasped her arm and held her back.
“Jemima!” She gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m horribly confused. I hated my mother all my life, because she left me and my father. I know it hurt him too. He never even imagined loving anyone else. But now that she’s dead, and in such an awful way, I’m sad that I’ll never know her. I didn’t think I wanted to, but I’m not sure.” She gulped. “Above all, I love Brent so much it makes me sick to think that anything could go
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia