She arrived at the Argyll house shortly after noon.
'Good morning, Mrs. Monk,' Jenny said with some uncertainty when Hester was shown into the withdrawing room.
'Good morning, Mrs. Argyll,' Hester replied with a slight smile. 'I thought that after last night's disaster you would naturally be concerned for Mrs. Applegate. I know that you and she were friends.' A fraction of a second later she realized she had already put it in the past. 'And I owe you something of an apology. Had I been aware of her susceptibility, I might have been able to prevent it. There are some people to whom even a drop of alcohol is a kind of poison.'
Jenny cleared her throat. She was obviously profoundly uncomfortable. She was still wearing black, of course, but relieved at the neck and wrists with lavender. She was not handsome, as Monk had said Mary was, but the possibilities of life, passion, and laughter were still there in her face, masked by discretion.
'I suppose it must be.' She sounded acutely uncertain, but she could hardly ask Hester to leave, unless she was prepared to be inexplicably rude. 'It is something of which I have no knowledge.'
'I hope you never have to,' Hester said warmly. 'I learned when I was caring for injured soldiers, and those facing death on the battlefield.' She saw Jenny's face pinch with momentary pity. 'When one is facing decisions that are almost unbearable,' Hester went on, as if now there was some kind of bond between them, 'some of us do not easily find the courage to do what is right, if it might cost us all we hold dear. I am sure you have the sensitivity to understand that, Mrs. Argyll.'
'I… er…' Jenny appeared to know that the conversation was leading somewhere she did not wish to go. There was a purpose in Hester's bearing she could not have mistaken. This was no idle call.
Hester forced open the crack of opportunity. 'I am sure you are looking for the kindest way to enquire how poor Rose is this morning,' she lied. 'I have been to see her; she is in great discomfort, but it will pass. I don't believe any physical damage has been done to her, but the injury to her reputation will never heal.'
'I imagine not,' Jenny agreed. At last she was on more familiar ground. 'Society could hardly forget or overlook what she did. I… I hope you are not considering asking my help.' Jenny swallowed. 'I have no influence in such matters.'
'I wouldn't think of it!' Hester said quickly. 'I have no idea what anyone could do that would help, or the faintest reason why you should compromise your own standing by attempting it.'
Jenny relaxed visibly, something of the natural color returning to her cheeks. She unbent far enough to invite Hester to sit down, and did so herself. 'I think her best course would be to retire from society,' she added.
'I agree entirely,' Hester concurred. 'I knew you would have the compassion and the delicacy to understand.'
Jenny looked pleased but confused.
'I am so sorry,' Hester added.
'Sorry?'
'Rose did not drink alcohol intentionally,' Hester explained. 'Or even knowingly. It was given to her by someone who wished to discredit her to a degree where she would not be able to appear in public in the foreseeable future.' She had already decided that to blame Argyll immediately would be very bad strategy. She must adopt the line taken by the prosecution, the newspapers, and public opinion in general.
Jenny paled. 'Why on earth do you think that? Surely… surely if she has such a… weakness…' She left the rest unsaid.
Hester frowned, as if concentrating. 'She must have been aware of her trouble,' she replied. 'It can hardly have happened in public recently, or we would all know of it; therefore it took her by surprise also. Someone else caused it. She drank only lemonade.'
Jenny stared at her. She took several long breaths, steadying herself. 'There is always the pastries,' she suggested, her voice a little husky. 'Some cooks mix the dried fruits with brandy, or the creams with liqueur.'
Hester had not eaten them, but she should have thought of that. So should have Rose! 'Would… would it be enough?' she said, to fill the growing silence. She was playing a game of wits, and she had no time to spin it out. The trial was drawing closer to its verdict, which would be issued any day. Rathbone's time was short, and once the defense started he might not be able to introduce new evidence. She hated having to be so brutal.
Jenny shook her head. 'I have no idea. It would seem so. What we saw was… irrefutable. I'm afraid the poor woman was very intoxicated indeed.' She thought for a moment. 'I'm so sorry.'
Hester's mind raced. She must be able to use Jenny's pity, turn it into a feeling of guilt. She had no doubt it was Alan Argyll who had killed Havilland, morally if not physically, and with great skill caused Sixsmith to be blamed.
'Of course,' she agreed aloud. 'Sometimes the results of our actions are not even remotely as we have imagined they would be.' She was moving towards the subject of Jenny's letter to her father, approaching it softly.
Jenny paled. Her hands moved on the black fabric of her skirt, not quite clutching it, then deliberately relaxing again. There was effort in it, control. 'I am sure she can have no idea that a few pastries would do such a thing.'
'It was after her lemonade, before the pastry,' Hester corrected her, not certain if that was true.
'How could anyone…?' Jenny started. Her face was very white.
Hester shrugged. 'A little bottle, such as one uses for medicines. A distraction of attention, not so very difficult.'
Jenny was forced to fill the silence. 'Who on earth would do that?'
'Someone who wished to discredit her,' Hester repeated. 'Rose had been looking into the matters your late father was investigating, just to make certain that there was no danger of serious accident, and-'
'My father was disturbed in his mind!' Jenny said abruptly. 'There was no danger at all. The machines my husband's company uses are the best there are. It is skill that has improved them, which is why they are faster, not that they are taking less care.' The color was high in her face, her eyes brilliant. 'This whole terrible charge has arisen only because of my fathers… I don't like to use the word, but it was hysteria.'
Hester could almost believe her, but for the man Melisande Ewart had seen leaving the mews. 'And that is why you wrote to your father asking him to meet your husband in the stables?' she said, allowing doubt into her voice. 'And poor Mr. Sixsmith is facing a charge of murder?'
Jenny's voice was half strangled in her throat. 'It isn't murder! It's… it's just bribery. And even that is nonsense. My husband will see that he is cleared of that. Mr. Dobie is a marvelous lawyer.' Her hands were now clenched hard in her lap, knuckles shining.
'Will he?' Hester asked. 'Do you believe that, Mrs. Argyll? Why on earth would he? Who else could have hired the man who shot your father?'
A succession of wild emotions crossed Jenny's face: confusion, terror, hatred.
Hester leaned towards her, hating the fact that she had to be the one to do this. 'Someone hired that man to kill your father, and so in a way your sister, too. Can you live with not telling the court that your husband made you write a letter asking your father to be in his stables that night? Can you go forward into the future looking at your husband across the dinner table every evening, across the bed, knowing that both of you allowed Aston Sixsmith to hang, when you of all people could have proved his innocence?'
The tears were running down Jenny's face. 'You have no idea what you're asking!' she gasped. 'No idea!'
'Perhaps not,' Hester admitted. 'But you do. And if you are honest, you know what it will cost-not only yourself and your children but Mr. Sixsmith as well-if you do not. Do you wish to explain that to your children, or live with it yourself?'
'You are ruthless!' Jenny choked on the words.
'I'm honest,' Hester replied. 'Sometimes they seem like the same thing. But I take no pleasure in it. You can still see at least that your father is buried with honor and his name cleared.'
Jenny sat motionless, her hands locked together. The lamplight, necessary even at midday, bleached her skin of all color.
'The truth can be very sharp,' Hester added. 'But it makes a cleaner wound than lies. It will not fester.'
Jenny nodded very slowly. 'Please do not come back,' she whispered. 'I will do as you say, but I cannot bear to see you again. You have forced me to look at a horror I believed I could avoid. Allow me to do it alone.'
'Of course.' Hester rose to her feet and walked slowly to the door. She knew that the servants would let her
