handled would ruin a lady’s reputation, perhaps quite unjustifiably. He said that you would be both candid and discreet.”
Her eyes were bright with interest, and there was the faintest flush in her cheeks.
“Indeed? How generous of him. I shall endeavor to live up to all that he has said of me. What is your enquiry, Mr. Pitt? I had not realized I knew anything of such a matter.”
“I am investigating the death of Mr. Justice Stafford.”
“Oh dear.” Her face darkened. “A dreadful thing—quite dreadful. Please sit down, Mr. Pitt. We cannot discuss this in a few moments. Although I really cannot think that I would be of assistance to you. I know nothing about it at all.”
“Not knowingly, I’m sure, or you would already have informed us,” Pitt agreed, sitting in the large chair opposite her. “But you are acquainted with both Mr. and Mrs. Stafford, and you no doubt move in the same circles in society.”
Her face showed complete surprise. “Surely you cannot be suggesting someone from their social acquaintance killed him? That is absurd! You must have misunderstood something my husband said, Mr. Pitt. That is the only possible explanation.”
“I am afraid that is not possible.” Pitt shook his head, smiling at her sadly. “He was quite plain. If you will permit me to ask you a few questions?”
“Of course.” She looked puzzled.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stafford had been married for some considerable time?” he asked.
“Oh yes, at least twenty years, probably longer.” Her voice lifted in surprise.
“How would you describe their relationship?”
Her confusion increased. “Oh—amiable, I should say. There was certainly never any animosity between them, so far as I am aware. If you are thinking of a quarrel, I have to tell you I find it very difficult to believe, if not impossible.” She shook her head a little to emphasize the point.
“Why do you say that, Mrs. Livesey?” he pressed.
“Well …” She looked at him with some concentration. Her eyes were neither blue nor gray, but full of perception. He judged she was not a clever woman, but one with considerable judgment of others within her own social knowledge, and an excellent sense of what was fitting.
“Yes? I would greatly value your candor, ma’am.”
She hesitated only a moment more, he thought weighing words rather than debating whether to answer him or not.
“It was not a relationship in which either party had sufficient depth of emotion to quarrel,” she said at length. He thought from her expression she was measuring her words carefully. “It had long since declined to a more comfortable state,” she went on, “where respect and usage had replaced any acute involvement in each other’s day-to-day lives. Juniper always behaved discreetly, and fulfilled her social obligations. She is an excellent hostess, handsome to look at, well dressed, exceedingly well mannered.” A slight flicker crossed her face and there was a momentary tightness in her mouth. It occurred to Pitt that she was focusing herself to say things which she believed only grudgingly.
“And to the best of my knowledge, Samuel Stafford was an honorable man, not given to any excesses either personal or financial,” she continued, her expression relaxing a little. “She was always well provided for. If he—if he had any other … women in his life … he was so discreet about them I for one had no idea.” She looked at Pitt, waiting for his comment.
“Indeed. That is what I had heard elsewhere,” he agreed. “What about Mrs. Stafford’s other relationships?”
“Oh—well—I suppose you mean Mr. Pryce?” She colored uncomfortably, though it was impossible to say whether it was embarrassment or guilt because she was mentioning it at all.
“Was there any other?” he enquired.
“No! No, of course not!” The color in her cheeks deepened.
“When did she first meet Mr. Pryce, do you know?”
She sighed and stared out of the window. “I think she had met him several years ago, but the acquaintance was slight, so far as I am aware. They have come to know each other far, far better in the last year and a half.” She stopped abruptly, uncertain how much more to say. She was aware she had spoken unbecomingly vehemently, afraid she had betrayed something in herself, as indeed she had. She looked at Pitt with a furrow between her brows, waiting.
“In your opinion, Mrs. Livesey, what is Mrs. Stafford’s feeling for Mr. Pryce?” he said gravely. “Please be honest with me. I shall not quote you to anyone; the information is simply so I may learn the truth. In the interest of justice, I have to know.”
She bit her lip, considering for a moment before launching into her answer, her voice quick and hard. “She was infatuated with him. She did her best to be discreet, but to one who knows her as well as I do, it was quite apparent.”
“In what ways?”
“Oh, the edge in her manner, her dress, the things in which she developed an interest.” She laughed abruptly as if now she had begun she could not stem the tide of her feelings. “The things in which she lost all interest. The gossip she no longer cared to hear, the trivia which a year ago would have fascinated her, now she ignored. She began to behave as if she were far younger than in truth she was.” The pinkness deepened in her cheeks. “When a woman is in love, Mr. Pitt, other women know it. The signs are not especially subtle, and they are also quite unmistakable.”
Pitt felt uncomfortable without being certain why.
“And did Mr. Pryce, in your judgment, return this feeling?” He made a mental note to ask Charlotte if she
