Newport: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

died over thirty-five years ago.”

CHAPTER
5
    A drian pulled away from Catharine Walsh’s magnetic stare, forcing himself back to the business at hand. His mind rapidly sifted through facts. He’d spoken to Bennett Chapman via telephone only last week. The man had seemed perfectly sane then, had even relayed his corporation’s stellar quarterly financial figures.
    “Crossed over, perhaps, but certainly not gone,” Bennett said now. “Is it so difficult to believe that my Elizabeth would stay in touch with the husband she adored?”
    “It’s difficult to believe she’d stay in touch with anyone at all.” Chloe fumbled for the flask in her garter, apparently thought better of it, and reached for a cigarette instead.
    As his client looked dreamily out at the horizon, Adrian recalled that there had indeed been something unusual about that last telephone conversation: Bennett Chapman had been verynearly pleasant. In fact, he’d sounded so different from his usual dour self that Adrian had mentioned it to Constance just before dinner that evening.
    He suddenly remembered her response. “He’s in love,” she had said, carefully lighting the dining room candles as she did every night.
    “Ah, women.” He’d smiled as soft candlelight enveloped them. “Always ready to assume romance in any situation. What makes you so certain that our Mr. Chapman has a paramour?”
    “Oh, nothing so tawdry as a paramour, Adrian. A sweetheart, perhaps.” Her brow had puckered in concentration over the last stubborn wick. A wisp of pale hair escaped a hairpin to rest against her cheek. Adrian reached out to tenderly tuck it behind her ear, breath catching as she caught his hand and pressed it firmly against her heart. Caught off guard, he’d pulled her closer, the insistent echo of his own heart more than pleased to give away the depth of his longing.
    “Why, darling!” Constance had curled against him. “Shall I hold dinner?”
    He’d pulled in a deep breath, regaining his composure before dropping a soft kiss onto her lips. “Constance, my dear—the children,” he’d whispered, raising her gaze with a gentle finger beneath her chin. “They’ll be down at any moment.”
    Constance had squeezed his hand before releasing it. “My dearest Adrian,” she’d said with a sigh. “You keep so much bundled up inside. You needn’t, you know; you’re perfectly safe with me. Anyway, Mr. Chapman’s romantic state is obvious. Do men honestly believe they achieve contentment on their own? Without good women behind you, you’re a troubled lot, always searching forpeace. Mr. Chapman has been an unpleasant blowhard for years. You say that today he was jocular, eager to make conversation—he’s in love.”
    As usual, Constance would not be surprised to learn she was right. But as Adrian watched Bennett absently pat his fiancée’s hand, he was willing to bet that Catharine Walsh was not the cause of the anxious longing etched into the old man’s face.
    “Need we continue this conversation?” Nicholas asked in a low voice. “My father’s state of mind should be obvious to you both.”
    “Sir.” Jim Reid set his coffee cup on the table and crouched before the wheelchair until he and Bennett Chapman were nearly eye to eye. “When was the last time you . . . spoke . . . to Mrs. Chapman?”
    “When was that, Catharine? Two nights ago?”
    “Where did this conversation take place?” Coming from Jim, the question verged on innocent. With his long limbs and open Irish face, he was as unthreatening as a puppy.
    Bennett Chapman inched himself forward in his wheelchair, eager to share. “In the parlor. How Elizabeth would have loved that room had she lived to see it! I don’t know how they bring her to me, Mr. Reid, but it’s a miracle . . . amazing.”
    “‘They’?”
    “Catharine’s got something to do with it, but it’s her niece, Amy, who really accomplishes the feat. She just has a way about her that calls Elizabeth