Monk found himself shivering. Rathbone's face was bleak and angry. No one argued. Briefly they conferred on the next step, then set out again, cold, tired, and determined.
Hester slept poorly after Monk had gone. The shock of defeat, just as they were savoring what she imagined to be one of their sweetest victories, had left her momentarily numb. She cleared away the supper dishes and tidied the house automatically, then went upstairs to see if there was anything more she could do for Scuff. She might have stayed up were it not for him, but she knew he could not rest if she did not do so as well.
She was lying awake at about five o'clock, wondering how they could have been so bitterly wrong, when Scuff spoke to her in a whisper.
'Yer in't asleep, are yer.' It was not a question. He must have known from her breathing.
'No,' she replied. 'But why aren't you?'
' 'Cos I can't.' He inched a fraction closer to her. 'Is Mr. Monk gonna put it right?'
Should she lie to comfort him? If he found out, it would break the frail trust he was building. She might never mend the damage. Wasn't truth better than the loneliness of that, no matter how harsh? That's what she would do if he were a man. But was a child different? How much should she protect him, and from what?
'Is 'e?' Scuff repeated.
He was not touching her, and yet she knew his body was stiff.
'He'll try,' she answered. 'Nobody wins all the time. This could be a mistake we can't mend. I don't know.'
He let out his breath in a sigh and relaxed, inching another tiny fraction closer to her.
'Mr. 'Avilland were right about their machines, weren't 'e?'
'I'm afraid he was,' she agreed. 'At least partly. He was also right about going ahead too quickly without making sure where all the streams were.
'Mr. Sixsmith were the boss down there. Yer'd think as 'e'd 'a told Mr. Argyll, wouldn't yer?' he whispered.
'He must have,' she agreed.
As she said it she realized with a chill, in spite of the blankets over her, that it was not necessarily true. But it made no sense.
'Wot's the matter?' Scuff demanded.
'At least, I suppose he'd have told Mr. Argyll,' she answered.
He put his hand on her shoulder, so lightly she barely felt it, only its warmth. 'There's summink as don't make no sense, in't there? Is Mr. Monk gonna be all right? I should 'a bin there to look arter 'im. I think mebbe that Sixsmith s real bad.'
'But what does Sixsmith want?' she said as much to herself as to him. 'Money? Power? Love? Escape from something?' She turned a little towards him. 'Do you suppose it was because of Mrs. Argyll? She's in love with him, I think. And her husband is a cold man. She must feel terribly alone.'
'Weren't Mr. 'Avilland 'er pa, too?' he asked.
'Yes. I don't believe she knew the assassin was going to kill her father. And afterwards she thought it was her husband who had done it. Maybe she still doesn't know it was Sixsmith, and we can't prove it!'
'But 'e knows,' Scuff pointed out. 'So 'e din't do it for 'er! If yer love someone, yer din't kill 'er pa.'
'No.' She stared up at the ceiling, the faintest of lights coming through the curtains from the streetlamps outside. 'Maybe he doesn't love her so much as just want her. It isn't the same.'
'Mebbe 'e just 'ates Mr. Argyll,' Scuff said thoughtfully. 'Yer gotta 'member 'e made it look like it were Mr. Argyll wot paid the assassin. An' it were Mr. Argyll's company wot caused the cave-in, and Mr. Argyll wots goin' ter prisin, or mebbe the rope, eh?'
'That's an awful lot of hate,' she said quietly, shivering again in spite of herself. 'Why would anyone hate that much?'
'I dunno,' he answered. 'Must 'a bin summink bad.'
'It must have been,' she agreed, but her mind was beginning to wonder what Jenny had felt. Did she believe that when her husband was imprisoned, or even hanged, she would be rescued from her boredom and emotional desert by Sixsmith? Was she so in love with him that she had thought no further than that?
What would happen when Argyll was shown to be innocent and Sixsmith guilty? Jenny had lied about who told her to write the letter; that was what had turned the tide against Argyll. Sixsmith knew that! What sort of future awaited her, then? Had she used Sixsmith to get rid of Argyll, so that her children would inherit the company, since Toby was also dead? And they would get whatever James Havilland had possessed also, since Mary was gone as well. Did she imagine that this would hold Sixsmith to her, and was that what she wanted? Surely if she had any sense she would fear for her own life.
Or did she believe he truly loved her?
'Yer've thought of summink, 'aven't yer?' Scuff whispered beside her.
'Yes,' she answered honestly. 'I need to go and see Mrs. Argyll. She lied in court, and she needs to know what that could cost her. I'll send a letter first thing to ask Margaret Ballinger to come to sit with you until I get back.'
'I don' need no one,' he said instantly. 'I'm almost better.'
'No, you aren't,' she retorted. 'And whether you need anyone or not, I need there to be someone here, so I can stop worrying about you and keep my mind on what I'm doing. Don't argue with me! I've made up my mind. And you'll like Margaret, I expect.'
'Mr. Monk said yer as stubborn as an army mule.'
'Did he indeed! Well, Mr. Monk wouldn't know an army mule if it kicked him!'
Scuff giggled. Obviously the idea entertained him.
'But I would!' she added, before he got any ideas of insubordination.
'Yer'd kick it back,' he said with immense satisfaction, and moved the last couple of inches until he was next to her. She put an arm around him, very lightly. In five minutes he was asleep.
In the morning she sent one of the local boys to take a message to Margaret, wait for her answer, and return with it. She gave him fare for a hansom both ways, and something for himself. It was extravagant, but she judged it necessary, not only for her own peace of mind but for Monk's also. She had not misread the affection in his face for Scuff, no matter how carefully he tried to mask it.
She arrived at the Argyll house a little after ten o'clock. It was strange to realize that the rest of the world still believed Argyll guilty and Sixsmith innocent. For a moment terror overtook her as she walked across the pavement to the steps up to the front door. What if Sixsmith was there already? If he and Jenny were lovers, they might have celebrated their victory together.
No, that would be foolish, even if Argyll had already been arrested. It might arouse suspicions. In order to preserve any dignity or belief in her, Jenny Argyll would have to play the shocked and grieving wife rescued in time by the innocent man. They would be two victims together of Argyll's wickedness.
Hester straightened her shoulders and mounted the steps to the front door, head high.
The bell was answered by a red-eyed parlor maid, and Hester told her that she was here to see Mrs. Argyll on a matter of great importance and urgency. Hester guessed from the girl's appearance that Argyll had already been arrested.
'I'm sorry, madam, but Mrs. Argyll is unwell,' the maid began. 'She isn't receiving today.'
'I was in court yesterday,' Hester replied. 'What I have to say will prove Mr. Argyll's innocence.' She did not add that it would also prove Mrs. Argyll's guilt.
The parlor maid's eyes opened wide, then she stepped back and invited Hester in. She was flustered, happy, and still frightened. She left Hester in the withdrawing room, the only place even remotely warm from the embers of the previous nights fire. Such domestic duties had been utterly neglected that day.
Ten minutes later Jenny Argyll came in. Her black gown was very well cut and flattered her slenderness. Her hair was styled less severely than earlier, but her face was almost bloodlessly pale, and there were bruised shadows around her eyes. She looked feminine and vulnerable. Hester's last doubts that Jenny was in love with Sixsmith were swept away. Jenny could have helped her actions, but her emotions were beyond her mastery.
'Good morning, Mrs. Monk,' Jenny said with faint surprise. Her voice trembled a little. Was it tension, exhaustion, or fear? 'My maid tells me you know something of urgent importance about my husband's arrest. Is that true?'
