mean to make you feel less than welcome.' Her eyes searched Monk's face with an anxiety she could not conceal, but she studiously avoided looking at Marianne. 'It is a little early for tea, but may we offer you some cold lemonade? It is really a very hot day.J›
'Thank you.' Monk accepted both because he was thirsty and because he wished to observe them all a little more closely, especially the two women. How deep was the trust between them, and how much was Julia really misled? Did she suspect her sister of an unwise dalliance? Was it all perhaps to protect her from Audley's moral outrage if he thought she were less than a victim? 'That is very kind of you,' he added, sitting in the chair she indicated.
She rang the bell and dispatched the maid to fetch the refreshments.
Monk felt he owed Julia some explanation for Audley, and racked his brain to think of an acceptable lie. To say he had left something behind would be too transparent. Audley would be suspicious immediately, so would Monk in his place. Dare he suggest an errand? Would Julia be quick enough?
But she preempted him.
'I am afraid I have not got it ready yet,' she said, swallowing hard.
'What ready?' Audley asked, frowning at her.
She turned to him with a guileless smile. 'Mr. Monk said he would be kind enough to take a small parcel back to cousin Albert for me, but I have been remiss and it is not yet ready.'
'What are you sending to Albert?' Audley demanded, frowning. 'I didn't know you were so fond of him. You did not give me that impression.'
'I suppose I am not, really.' She was elaborately casual, but Monk saw that her hands were clenched tight. 'It is a relationship I feel I should keep. After all, he is family.' She forced a smile. 'I thought a small gift would be a good beginning. Besides, he has several family records I should be most obliged to share.'
'You have not mentioned this before,' he argued. 'What records?'
'Of our grandparents,' Marianne put in quickly, her voice sharp. 'They are his also, and since he is older than we, he has memories which are far more vivid. I should like to know more. After all, I never knew my mother. Julia was kind enough to suggest cousin Albert might help.'
Audley drew breath to say something further, then changed his mind. For a young woman utterly dependent upon him, Marianne had a forthright manner and appeared to have little awe of him. Or perhaps she was sufficiently devoted to Julia that she would have charged to her defense regardless, and only thought of her own peril afterwards.
'Very civil of you.' Audley disregarded her and nodded to Monk. 'Are you from Halifax also?'
'No, Northumberland,' Monk replied. 'But I shall pass through on my way north.' He was getting deeper and deeper in the lie. He would have to post the parcel and hope cousin Albert replied with the necessary information. Presumably if he did not, they would use the excuse that he was obdurate.
'Indeed.' Audley apparently had no further interest, and they were spared the necessity of small talk by the arrival of the maid to announce that Mrs. Hylton had called and wish to see Mrs. Penrose.
She was shown in and arrived looking flustered and full of curiosity. Both Monk and Audley rose to greet her, but before they could speak she rushed into words, turning from one to another of them.
'Oh, Mr. Monk! I am so glad you have not yet left. My dear Mrs. Penrose, how very pleasant to see you. Miss Gillespie. I am so sorry about your experience, but I am quite sure it will prove to have been no more than a stray cat or something of the sort. Mr. Penrose. How are you?'
'In good health, thank you, Mrs. Hylton,' Audley replied coolly. He turned to his sister-in-law. 'What experience is this? I have heard nothing!' He was very pale, with two spots of color in his cheeks. His hands were clenched by his sides and his knuckles showed white from the pressure.
'Oh dear!' Mrs. Hylton said hastily. 'Perhaps I should not have spoken of it. I'm so sony. I hate indiscretion, and here I am committing it'
'What experience?' Audley demanded again, his voice catching. 'Julia?'
'Oh…' Julia was lost, foundering. She dared not turn to Monk, or Audley would know she had confided in him, if he did not guess already.
'Only something in the bushes in the garden,' Monk said quickly. 'Miss Gillespie feared it might be some tramp or stray person who was peeping. But I am sure Mrs. Hylton is correct and it was simply a cat. It can be startling, but no more. I am certain there is no danger, Miss Gillespie.'
'No.' Marianne swallowed. 'No, of course not. I fear I was foolish. I-I have been… hasty.'
'If you sent Mr. Monk looking for a tramp you most certainly were,' Audley agreed testily, his breath harsh in his throat. 'You should have mentioned it to me! To have troubled a guest was quite unnecessary and unfortunate.'
'Miss Gillespie did not ask me,' Monk said defensively. 'I was in the garden in her company at the time. It was the most natural thing in the world to offer to see if there were anyone trespassing.'
Audley fell silent with the best grace he could muster, but it was less than comfortable.
'I was afraid one of my children might have thrown a ball too far and came to retrieve it,' Mrs. Hylton said apologetically, looking from one to the other of them, curiosity alight in her face, and a taste for drama. 'Most inconsiderate, I know, but children tend to be like that I am sure you will find it so, when you have your own…'
Audley's face was white, his eyes glittering, but his hard glance was not directed at Mrs. Hylton, nor at Julia, but out the window into the trees. Julia's cheeks were scarlet, but she too was mute.
It was Marianne who spoke, her voice quivering with pain and indignation.
'That may be so, Mrs. Hylton, but we do not all wish to have the same patterns of life. And for some of us the choices are different. I am sure you have sufficient sensitivity to appreciate that…'
Mrs. Hylton realized she had made an appalling blunder and blushed deeply, although from the confusion in her face, she still did not fully understand what it had been.
'Yes,' she said hastily. 'Of course. I see, yes. Naturally. Well, I am sure you have done the right thing, Mr. Monk. I-I just wished to-well-good day to you.' And she turned around and retreated in disorder.
Monk had seen more than sufficient to confirm his fears. He would have to speak to Marianne alone, but he would not do it with Audley in the house. He would return tomorrow morning, when he could be almost certain he would find the women alone.
'I don't wish to intrude,' he said aloud, looking first at Julia, then at Audley. 'If it is acceptable, ma'am, I shall call again in the near future to pick up your gift for Mr. Finnister?'
'Oh. Thank you,' Julia accepted quickly, relief flooding her face. 'That would be most kind.'
Audley said nothing, and with a few more words, Monk excused himself and left, walking out rapidly into the heat of Hastings Street and the noise and clatter of passing carriages and the trouble of his thoughts.
In the morning he stood in the summerhouse with Marianne. A dozen yards away there were birds singing in the lilac tree and a faint breeze blew a few fallen leaves across the grass. It was Rodwell's day off.
'I think I have made all the inquiries I can,' Monk began.
'I cannot blame you if you can discover very little,' Marianne answered with a tiny smile. She was leaning against the window, the pale sprigged muslin of her dress billowing around her. She looked very young, but oddly less vulnerable than Julia, even though Monk was aware of the fear in her.
'I discovered several tilings,' he went on, watching her carefully. 'For instance, no one came over the wall into the garden, from any direction.'
'Oh?' She was very still, almost holding her breath, staring away from him across the grass.
'And you are sure it was not Rodwell?'
Now she was incredulous, swinging around to look at him with wide eyes. 'Rodwell? You mean the gardener? Of course it was not him! Do you think I wouldn't recognize our own gardener? Oh-oh no! You can't think…' She stopped, her face scarlet.
'No I don't,' he said quickly. 'I simply had to be sure. No, I don't think it was Rodwell, Miss Gillespie. But I do think you know who it was.'
Now her face was very pale except for the splashes of color high in her cheeks. She looked at him in hot,
