bother that the allusions to his parents were made in front of him, and he showed no emotions at all.
It was Peverell who spoke.
“Fear, my dear,” he said, looking at Edith with a sad smile. “People are frequently at their ugliest when they are afraid. Violence from garroters we expect, from the working classes among themselves, even now and then from gentlemen-a matter of insult and honor over a woman, or-in very bad taste, but it happens-over money.”
The footman removed all the fish plates and served the meat course.
“But when women start using violence,” Peverell went on, “to dictate how men shall behave in the matter of morals or their appetites, then that threatens not only their freedom but the sanctity of their homes. And it strikes real terror into people, because it is the basic safety at the core of things, the refuge that all like to imagine we can retreat to from whatever forays into conflict we may make in the course of the day or the week.”
“I don't know why you use the word
Nothing further was said in the matter, and half an hour later when the meal was finished, Edith and Hester excused themselves. Shortly after that, Hester took her leave, having told Edith all she knew of progress so far, and promising to continue with every bit of the very small ability she possessed, and trying to assure her, in spite of her own misgivings, that there was indeed some hope.
Major Tiplady was staring towards the window waiting for her when she returned home, and immediately enquired to know the outcome of her visit.
“I don't know that it is anything really useful,” she answered, taking off her cloak and bonnet and laying them on the chair for Molly to hang up. “But I learned quite a lot more about the general. I am not sure that I should have liked him, but at least I can feel some pity that he is dead.”
“That is not very productive,” Tiplady said critically. He regarded her narrowly, sitting very upright. “Could this Louisa woman have killed him?”
Hester came over and sat on the chair beside him.
“It looks very doubtful,” she confessed. “He seems a man far more capable of friendship than romances; and Louisa apparently had too much to lose, both in reputation and finance, to have risked more than a flirtation.” She felt suddenly depressed. “In fact it does seem as if Alexandra was the one-or else poor Sabella-if she really is deranged.”
“Oh dear.” Tiplady looked crushed. “Then where do we go from here?”
“Perhaps it was one of the servants,” she said with sudden hope again.
“One of the servants?” he said incredulously. “Whatever for?”
“I don't know. Some old military matter?”
He looked doubtful.
“Well, I shall pursue it!” she said firmly. “Now, have you had tea yet? What about supper? What would you care for for supper?”
Two days later she took an afternoon off, at Major Tiplady's insistence, and went to visit Lady Callandra Daviot in order to enlist her help in learning more of General Carlyon 's military career. Callandra had helped her with both counsel and friendship when she first returned from the Crimea, and it was with her good offices that she had obtained her hospital post. It was extremely gracious of Callandra not to have been a good deal harsher in her comments when Hester had then lost it through overstepping the bounds of her authority.
Callandra's late husband, Colonel Daviot, had been an army surgeon of some distinction; a quick-tempered, charming, stubborn, witty and somewhat arbitrary man. He had had a vast acquaintance and might well have known something of General Carlyon. Callandra, still with connections to the Army Medical Corps, might be able either to recall hearing of the general, or to institute discreet enquiries and learn something of his career and, more importantly, of his reputation. She might be able to find information about the unofficial events which just might lead to another motive for murder, either someone seeking revenge for a wrong, a betrayal on the field, or a promotion obtained unfairly-or imagined to be so, or even some scandal exposed or too harshly pursued. The possibilities were considerable.
They were sitting in Callandra's room, which could hardly be called a withdrawing room, since she would have received no formal visitors there. It was full of bright sunlight, desperately unfashionable, cluttered with books and papers, cushions thrown about for comfort, two discarded shawls and a sleeping cat which should have been white but was liberally dusted with soot.
Callandra herself, well into middle age, gray hair flying all over the place as if she were struggling against a high wind, her curious intelligent face long-nosed, full of humor, and quite out of fashion also, was sitting in the sunlight, which if it were habit might account for her indelicate complexion. She regarded Hester with amusement.
“My dear girl, do you not imagine Monk has already told me of the case? That was our bargain, if you recall. And quite naturally I have made considerable efforts to learn what I can of General Carlyon. And of his father. One may learn much of a man by knowing something of his parents-or of a woman, of course.” She scowled ferociously.”Really, that cat is quite perverse. God intended him to be white, so what does he do but climb up chimneys! It quite sets,my teeth on edge when I think that sooner or later he will lick all that out of his coat. I feel as if my own mouth were full of soot. But I can hardly bathe him, although I have thought of it-and told him so.”
“I should think a great deal of it will come off on your furniture,” Hester said without disquiet. She was used to Callandra, and she had quite an affection for the animal anyway.
“Probably,” Callandra agreed. “He is a refugee from the kitchen at the moment, and I must give the poor beast asylum.”
“Why? I thought his job was in the kitchen, to keep the mice down.”
“It is-but he is overfond of eggs.”
“Can the cook not spare him an egg now and again?”
“Of course. But when she doesn't he is apt to help himself. He has just looped his paw 'round half a dozen this morning and sent them all to the floor, where quite naturally they broke, and he was able to eat his fill. We shall not now be having souffle for dinner.” She rearranged herself rather more comfortably and the cat moved itself gently in its sleep and began to purr. “I presume you wish to know what I have heard about General Carlyon?” Callandra asked.
“Ofcourse.”
“It is not very interesting. Indeed he was a remarkably uninteresting man, correct to a degree which amounts to complete boredom-for me. His father purchased his commission in the Guards. He was able and obeyed the letter of the law, very popular with his fellows, most of them, and in due course obtained promotion, no doubt a great deal to do with family influence and a certain natural ability with a weapon. He knew how to command his men's absolute loyalty-and that counts for a lot. He was an excellent horseman, which also helped.”
“And his private reputation?” Hester said hopefully.
Callandra looked apologetic. “A complete blank,” she confessed. “He married Alexandra FitzWilliam after a brief courtship. It was most suitable and both families were happy with the arrangement, which since they were the ones who were largely responsible for it, is not surprising. They had one daughter, Sabella, and many years later, their only son, Cassian. The general was posted to the Indian army, and remained abroad for many years, mostly in Bengal, and I have spoken to a friend of mine who served there also, but he had never heard anything the least bit
