“Yes-and according to what I can learn of the affair from Damaris Erskine, the general's other sister, who was also at the ill-fated dinner party, there were several people who had the opportunity to have pushed him over the banister.”
“I cannot act for Mrs. Carlyon unless she wishes it,” he pointed out. “No doubt the Carlyon family will have their own legal counsel.”
“Peverell Erskine, Damaris's husband, is their solicitor, and Edith assures me he would not be averse to engaging the best banister available.”
His fine mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile.
“Thank you for the implied compliment.”
She ignored it, because she did not know what to say.
“Will you please see Alexandra Carlyon and at least consider the matter?” she asked him earnestly, self- consciousness overridden by the urgency of the matter. “I fear she may otherwise be shuffled away into an asylum for the criminally insane, to protect the family name, and remain there until she dies.” She leaned towards him. “Such places are the nearest we have to hell in this life-and for someone who is quite sane, simply trying to defend a daughter, it would be immeasurably worse than death.”
All the humor and light vanished from his face as if washed away. Knowledge of appalling pain filled his eyes, and there was no hesitation in him.
“I will certainly keep my mind open in the matter,” he promised. “If you ask Mr. Erskine to instruct me, and engage my services so that I may apply to speak with Mrs. Carlyon, then I will give you my word that I will do so. Although of course whether I can persuade her to tell me the truth is another thing entirely.”
“Perhaps you could engage Mr. Monk to carry out investigations, should you-” She stopped.
“I shall certainly consider it. You have not told me what was her motive in murdering her husband. Did she give one?”
She was caught off guard. She had not thought to ask.
“I have no idea,” she answered, wide-eyed in amazement at her own omission.
“It can hardly have been self-defense.” He pursed his lips. “And we would find it most difficult to argue a crime of passion, not that that is considered an excuse-for a woman, and a jury would find it most… unbecoming.” Again the black humor flickered across his face, as if he were conscious of the irony of it. It was a quality unusual in a man, and one of the many reasons she liked him.
“I believe the whole evening was disastrous,” she continued, watching his face. “Apparently Alexandra was upset, even before she arrived, as though she and the general had quarreled over something. And I gather from Damaris that Mrs. Furnival, the hostess, flirted with him quite openly. But that is something which I have observed quite often, and very few people are foolish enough to take exception to it. It is one of the things one simply has to endure.” She saw the feint curl of amusement at the corners of his lips, and ignored it.
“I had better wait until Mr. Erskine contacts me,” he said with returning gravity. “I will be able to speak to Mrs. Carlyon herself. I promise you I will do so.”
“Thank you. I am most obliged.” She rose to her feet, and automatically he rose also. Now it suddenly occurred to her that she owed him for his time. He had spared her almost half an hour, and she had not come prepared to pay. His fee would be a considerable amount of money from her very slender resources. It was an idiotic and embarrassing error.
“I shall send you my account when the matter is closed,” he said, apparently without having noticed her confusion. “You will understand that if Mrs. Carlyon engages me, and I accept the case, what she tells me will have to remain confidential between us, but I shall of course inform you whether I am able to defend her or not.” He came around from behind the desk and moved towards the door.
“Of course,” she said a little stiffly, overwhelmed with relief. She had been saved from making a complete fool of herself.”I shall be happy if you are able to help. I shall now go and tell Mrs. Sobell-and of course Mr. Erskine.” She did not mention that so far as she was aware, Peverell Erskine knew nothing about the enquiry. “Good day, Mr. Rathbone-and thank you.”
“It was a pleasure to see you again, Miss Latterly.” He opened the door for her and held it while she passed through, then stood for several moments watching her leave.
Hester went immediately to Carlyon House and asked the parlormaid who answered the door if Mrs. Sobell were in.
“Yes, Miss Latterly,” the girl answered quickly, and from her expression, Hester judged that Edith had forewarned her she was expected. “If you please to come to Mrs. Sobell's sitting room, ma'am,” the maid went on, glancing around the hallway, then lifting her chin defiantly and walking smartly across the parquet and up the stairs, trusting Hester was behind her.
Across the first landing and in the east wing she opened the door to a small sunlit room with floral covered armchairs and sofa and soft watercolor paintings on the walls.
“Miss Latterly, ma'am,” (lie maid said quietly, then withdrew.
Edith rose to her feet, her face eager.
“Hester! Did you see him? What did he say? Will he do it?”
Hester found herself smiling briefly, although there was little enough humor in what she had to report.
“Yes I saw him, but of course he cannot accept any case until he is requested by the solicitor of the person in question. Are you sure Peverell will be agreeable to Mr. Rathbone acting for Alexandra?”
“Oh yes-but it won't be easy, at least I fear not. Peverell may be the only one who is willing to fight on Alex's behalf. But if Peverell asks Mr. Rathbone, will he take the case? You did tell him she had confessed, didn't you?”
“Of course I did.”
“Thank heaven. Hester, I really am most grateful to you for this, you know. Come and sit down.” She moved back to the chairs and curled up in one and waved to the other, where Hester sat down and tucked her skirts comfortably. “Then what happens? He will go and see Alex, of course, but what if she just goes on saying she did it?”
“He will employ an investigator to enquire into it,” Hester replied, trying to sound more certain than she felt.
' “What can he do, if she won't tell him?”
“I don't know-but he's better than most police. Why did she do it, Edith? I mean, what does she say?”
Edith bit her lip. “That's the worst part of it. Apparently she said it was out of jealousy over Thaddeus and Louisa.”
“Oh-I…” Hester was momentarily thrown into confusion.
“I know.” Edith looked wretched. “It is very sordid, isn't it? And unpleasantly believable, if you know Alex. She is unconventional enough for something so wild and so foolish to enter her mind. Except that I really don't believe she ever loved Thaddeus with that sort of intensity, and I am quite sure she did not lately.”
For a moment she looked embarrassed at such candor, then her emotions at the urgency and tragedy of it took over again. “Please, Hester, do not allow your natural repugnance for such behavior to prevent you from doing what you can to help her. I don't believe she killed him at all. I think it was far more probably Sabella-God forgive her-or perhaps I should say God help her. I think she may honestly be out of her mind.” Her face tightened into a somber unhap-piness.”And Alex taking the guilt for her will not help anyone. They will hang an innocent person, and Sabella in her lucid hours will suffer even more-don't you see that?”
“Yes of course I see it,” Hester agreed, although in honesty she thought it not at all improbable that Alexandra Carlyon might well have killed her husband exactly as she had confessed. But it would be cruel, and serve no purpose, to say so to Edith now, when she was convinced of Alexandra's innocence, or passionately wished to be.”Have you any idea why Alexandra would feel there was some cause for jealousy over the general and Mrs. Furnival?”
Edith's eyes were bright with mockery and pain.
“You have not yet met Louisa Furnival, or you would not bother to ask. She is the sort of woman anyone might be jealous of.” Her expressive face was filled with dislike, mockery, and something which could almost have been a
