For Love Alone Read Online Free PDF

had adored his brother, twelve years his senior, and he had been the one to find Robert’s body.
    â€œAnd how is dear Jane these days?” Ives asked grimly. “I must pay her a call if she is in town.”
    â€œShe’s dead, Ives. She died several years ago.” Percival looked thoughtful. “You could, I suppose, defile her grave if you think it would make you feel better.”
    A reluctant laugh was dragged from Ives, and he relaxed slightly. “No, I’ll not stoop to that.” He jerked his head in Lady Marlowe’s direction. “But I might be tempted to extract a little revenge from her daughter.”
    Percival shook his head vehemently. “Did you not hear what I said about her? She murdered her husband. She is not a lady, I, for one, would care to trifle with.”
    â€œI thought you said it was only rumors.”
    Percival looked annoyed. “So you were listening to me, after all! The official verdict is that he died in a fall down the stairs, but I was there that night—and I think she killed him.” When Ives cocked an inquiring brow, Percival added, “I fell in with Marlowe’s crowd when I first returned, which is how I know so much about his reputation. I do not want to make excuses for myself, but I had just come home after years of fighting in the wars and had seen and done things that were undoubtedly the substance of the most terrifying nightmares imaginable. Suddenly I had a great deal of time and money at my disposal. Marlowe and his friends were just the sort of wild and randy fellows to appeal to someone like me let loose in London, looking for adventure. It took me a while to realize that there is a great difference between wildness and wickedness. Marlowe was a downright nasty fellow, his friends not much better.” Percival took a deep breath. “I am not proud of my actions that first year or two when I returned to England . . . but that is all behind me now.”
    â€œIf the official verdict is accidental death, why do you still think she killed him?” Ives asked idly.
    â€œMarlowe was drinking heavily that night, but I know that he was not that foxed. And, there had been a terrible argument between them only minutes before he fell to his death. It was well-known amongst us that he had been denied his wife’s bed. He complained bitterly about it when in his cups. And it was equally well-known that his wife despised him and his friends.”
    â€œAnd that is the basis of your belief that she killed him?” Ives’s incredulity was obvious.
    â€œOf course that is not all!” Percival replied testily. “Not only had they just had an ugly row, but she had shot at him.”
    Ives’s brow rose. “And naturally all this occurred in your presence?”
    â€œNo, it did not! But we all heard the shot, and Sir Arthur Bellingham and Lord Scoville—” At Ives’s expression, Percival looked uncomfortable, and muttered unhappily, “Yes, Jane’s brother was part of the same crowd. He and Bellingham, being Marlowe’s closest friends, went to see what was amiss. Marlowe himself told them that his wife had just shot at him. Scoville wandered back and told the rest of us. He was quite proud of his niece’s marksmanship. And that was not a half hour before Marlowe’s body was found.”
    â€œShe shot him?” Ives asked, more intrigued than scandalized.
    â€œYes—the bullet hole was in the shoulder of the jacket he was wearing when he died. Naturally the officials investigating his death wanted to know how it came to be there, and Lady Marlowe was quite open about it when they questioned her. She admitted that she had shot at him and she made no attempt to hide the fact that she utterly despised her husband. She was not a grieving widow.”
    â€œIf her husband was the blackguard you claim him to have been, perhaps he deserved to be shot.”
    â€œAre you