Guardian to the Heiress - By Margaret Way Page 0,3
her no attention at all!” Condemnation was in Bradfield’s blue eyes. Marcus was a staunch family man with three daughters of marriageable age.
“As far as you know.”
Marcus gave him a long, searching look. “Damon, you know as well as I do, the family as good as abandoned her and her mother. Now, there’s a swinger, that Roxanne! A real glamour girl, though no one seems to like her. You should hear my wife! Another thing, my boy—”
“I’m not your boy, Marcus.”
“Another thing, my man, Maurice wants this kept quiet until morning when the press will be informed. Selwyn Chancellor was an important man. The premier could even want a state funeral.”
“Against Selwyn Chancellor’s wishes?” Damon shook his head. “He stipulated a quiet funeral, family and a few chosen friends only. He is to be buried in the garden of his country home, Beaumont, where I assume he died. Carol is to be invited.”
“Not Jeff and Roxanne?” Bradfield asked as though that violated some set of rules.
“No way. Jeff Emmett might be one of your ‘good ole boys,’ but he and Roxanne are specifically excluded.”
“So bygones won’t be bygones? We all know Selwyn and his wife—what was her name again?”
“Elaine,” Damon supplied.
“Blamed Roxanne for the death of their son Adam, the heir apparent. It was a bit suspicious you have to admit—all set to go through the Heads for a good day’s sailing, only Adam takes a wallop on the head from the boom on the mainsail before pitching into the harbour. Roxanne tries to chuck in a lifebuoy, finds it unfastened but still attached, so she throws in every cushion to hand, anything that would float. Meanwhile the boat is moving on at around eight knots.”
“She couldn’t swim. That much was true.”
“I’ve always said, men don’t teach their wives enough about boats and light aircraft. They rely on always being there.”
“I agree. Roxanne was believed.”
“Not by everybody.” Bradfield sighed. “Even to mention the case to my darling wife is to get into a heated argument. Old Selwyn didn’t believe her; the mother was the more vehement of the two. She never accepted the coroner’s finding. We’re both yachtsmen so we know what can happen. But Adam Chancellor’s parents continued to hold their daughter-in-law guilty of some crime.”
“Maybe she was,” Damon suggested. “She certainly acted strangely in the days that followed—not a sign of a tear, always dressed up to the nines. Not that that makes her guilty of anything. But the whole thing was a bit strange; I’ve read up on it all. The tragedy damn near split the city in two. But, whatever story Roxanne Chancellor told, it worked. As far as I’m concerned, more questions were asked than there were answers for.”
Bradfield stared down at his locked hands, as though they might hold the answer. “Speculation won’t get us anywhere. It was years ago. Just about everyone has forgotten.”
“Not true, Marcus.”
“Why so judgemental?” Bradfield asked, not wanting to take the issue further. “The verdict is what counts. Jeff Emmett did the right thing—he adopted Roxanne’s little daughter not long after they were married.”
“I’m sure Roxanne forced him into it. No love lost between her and the Chancellor family.” Damon gathered up his briefcase. “Look, I’m out of here. It’s been a long day.” For some time now he had been the first to arrive and often the last to leave.
Marcus cranked to his feet. He had put on a good deal of weight in the past few years, with his tailor gamely keeping pace. “Me, too. They mightn’t have slung Roxanne into jail, as some in the family no doubt wanted, but she copped plenty of torture. You’ll want to tell your client as soon as possible.”
Damon started to the door. “I intend to.”
Bradfield stayed him with a hand on his shoulder. “You’re coming Saturday night?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Damon managed to sound enthusiastic when he didn’t really want to go to Julie Bradfield’s just-the-right-side-of-thirty birthday party.
“Every night I go down on my knees and pray my Julie finds a good husband,” Marcus confided. One prayer stuck in the groove; Damon knew Marcus had his eye on him.
“And I’m sure she’ll find one.” Damon gave his boss a reassuring smile.
As long as it’s not me.
* * *
He knew her address; one of the inner suburbs. She had moved out of the Emmett house as soon as she’d started university. He knew she was studying law, a good student who could do so much better if she put her mind