The Night Angel Read Online Free PDF Page B

but by her character .
    “I understand the Powers remained with William Wilberforce during that period. Did you happen to speak with the gentleman?”
    “I had that honor,” Falconer replied.
    “Oh, sir.” The man clasped his hands in front of him. “Might I ask, what was he like? William Wilberforce?”
    Serafina responded, “That is three questions, sir. Not one.” But her voice held no acrimony.
    “Of course, ma’am. You are quite right.”
    “William Wilberforce was a man already connected to heaven,” Falconer said. “He was the best part of blind. He did not have the strength to hold a glass to his own lips. Yet . . .”
    Nathan Baring held himself with the eagerness of a young lad. “Yes?”
    “He was the most powerful figure of a man I have ever met. He spoke to me, and it seemed as though I heard a voice speaking with heaven’s authority. Time held little meaning while I was in his presence. And after, I felt as though I walked away a better man.”
    Nathan fumbled with his hands and his words both. “This means more than I can say. When I learned that I had been assigned to London, I wrote a dozen letters begging to meet with Wilberforce. My father admired him above all others.”
    Serafina asked, “Your father was an anti-slaver?”
    “Indeed, Miss Gavi. And his father before him. They were merchants. I lost my father last year.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “Thank you, ma’am. I wanted to go into the ministry, but my father wanted one son to become a diplomat and perhaps a politician. The other, my younger brother, has taken over the business.”
    “Do you know the Langstons?” Falconer asked, naming their closest allies in the Washington area. Reginald and Lillian Langston ran a Georgetown emporium and owned a fleet of merchant ships, one of which had carried Falconer and Serafina across the Atlantic.
    Nathan Baring replied, “I count the Langstons among some of the finest people God has ever created.”
    Serafina seemed drawn to speak by the young man’s clear-eyed enthusiasm. “They have asked Falconer to join them. We met with them just last week, and they asked him again.”
    “Oh, sir, but you must. The Langstons are goodly people, known to treat their staff as family.”
    “I am first held to aid the Gavis with an urgent matter of their own.”
    “Of course. I certainly understand duty’s call. Well, I shall not keep you longer.” He offered them each a card. “If there is any way I can be of service, you must please not hesitate to call upon me.” He bowed to them both, then said in a lower voice, “Might I say, if you are interested in finding others opposed to the slave trade, we meet after Sabbath services at Saint John’s Church on Lafayette Square.”
    As the young man departed, Falconer reflected on how Baring had noticed Serafina’s beauty yet counted it as insignificant. Falconer tried to recall another young man responding in such a way, as though utterly immune to her appeal.
    Serafina said, “I had hoped to have a private word.”
    Falconer turned back to her. She kept her hair covered by the lace mantilla. Her dress was modest, a long-sleeved formal gown of linsey-woolsey. The color was blue and the weave was as soft as sea-foam. Unlike the other women Falconer had seen at the legate’s gathering, she wore no jewelry. He swallowed hard. “There is no need.”
    “Yes, Falconer. I must—”
    “Serafina.” How he loved to speak her name. “I do understand.”
    She studied his face with the calm resolve of one who trusted him utterly. Open-eyed, taking her time, giving little notice to the scar that frightened so many. Discounting the shadows of past crimes. “How could you not,” she said quietly. “You know me so very well. Will you sit with me?”
    He followed her lead, moving to a pair of high-backed chairs set slightly behind the central staircase, hidden from the view of most people in the lobby. Falconer kept his back to the wall and the stairs so