Free A Place For Repentance (The Underwood Mysteries Book 6) by Suzanne Downes

her. She could have gone in any direction, and might very well have begged a lift from a vehicle, though he doubted that, since it had been late evening when she left the theatre and shortly after that the rain had started. Any man of sense would have found shelter and delayed his errands until the end of the storm.
                  As he approached the carved stone porch, he saw what he thought was a bundle of rags on the narrow stone bench which lined the wall, seating for any supplicant who was early for the service, but as he drew nearer and the dim interior became more easily discerned, he realised that the rags had an occupant – in fact a young lady was curled upon the hard stone, her head resting on a small and tattered valise, her feet tucked under the hem of her coat in a desperate attempt to keep them warm.
                  “Great heavens, you can be none other than Violette,” he exclaimed and she sat up, startled, then gazed at him fearfully.
                  “How do you know my name?”
                  He smiled reassuringly, “My house guests and I have been awake half the night worrying about you. I think you know Mr Underwood, though I understand you have not yet made the acquaintance of his wife?”
                  “Mr Underwood?” she frowned, having entirely forgotten the chance meeting in the apothecary shop some days before, “I do not think I know anyone of that name.”
                  “Do you not? Ah, well, I apprehend it was the briefest of introductions – in West Wimpleford a few days ago? You were seeking a cure for toothache.”
                  Her hand went automatically to her cheek and he could see, even in the dim light, that it was red and swollen. He also perceived that she was not merely shivering with cold, but shuddering violently from head to toe.
    He held out his hand to her, “Please let me escort you to the vicarage, where Mrs Underwood will be only too delighted to get you some dry clothes and something to eat. You must be so cold and wet after the dreadful weather last night.”
                  She shrank away from him, eying his proffered hand with real terror, “I do not know you.”
                  “I understand your apprehension, but surely everything I have confided must tell you that I mean you no harm. In fact, if it will comfort you, I cannot even come into the house with you, for I must take the morning service. People will begin to arrive any moment, so if you wish to avoid being seen in your sad state, I should hurry now.”
                  She needed no further bidding, for the very thought of being amongst people when she was dishevelled, cold and hungry was mortifying. She quickly realized that she had very little choice but to trust this stranger and hope nothing untoward befell her, for she was indeed feeling light-headed and perished to the point of pain in her hands and feet.
                  True to his promise Lindell merely ushered her through the front door, called to the Underwoods with the news that he had found Violette, and here she was, safe, if not sound, and he would see them after Matins.
                  Violette found herself enfolded in the warm embrace of a small, plump brunette, and coolly observed by a tall blond gentleman whom she vaguely recognized, before being borne off into the kitchen, which she was assured was the warmest room in the house, and there she was plied with food and a hot drink, all of it under a barrage of questions as to her health and well-being.
                  “You spent the night in the church porch? Why, how clever of you! I should never have thought of that, though I am the daughter of a vicar, so it really ought to be my first port of call – but then I have never found myself cast out into the storm, so I suppose it doesn’t signify,” babbled