thought she would notice such things about another woman.
“I cannot say quite why I believe so, but I do, quite definitely.” The edge returned to her voice. “His courtesy towards her had a sharply personal quality. There was a look in his eyes which was unmistakable. All woman desire to see that look in a man’s face some time in their lives.” She smiled very slightly as she said it. “It is better than all the diamonds or the perfumes in the world, and headier than champagne to the mind. Yes, Mr. Pitt, Mr. Pryce came to return her feelings.”
“Came to?” He searched her face and saw the emotion and the anger in it before she masked it. “Do I understand you to mean that her feeling preceded his?”
She did not evade his eyes. “If you mean did she pursue him, Mr. Pitt, yes, I regret to say it, but she did. One weekend in particular, we were all houseguests in the country. I could not fail to be aware of it.”
“I see.” He shifted his position on the large chair. “Mrs. Livesey, can you tell me what a man and a woman in such a position might be able to do about it, what their options would be? And the penalties for being indiscreet?”
“Of course. Their options, if they were to remain in society, are very slight,” she said decisively. “Either they behave with entire moral correctness, and do not see each other except where it is unavoidable, and then only when there are suitable other persons present …” Her shoulders stiffened. “People are quick to malice, you know? You cannot defy all social conventions and remain unscathed.” She was still watching Pitt, judging his understanding. “Or else they give in to their passions, but do it at the houses of mutual friends, on weekend house parties, and similar occasions, but with sufficient discretion that no one is forced to be aware of it.”
“That is all?”
“All?” She frowned. “What else could there be?”
“What about marriage?”
“Juniper Stafford is already married, Mr. Pitt.”
“Divorce?” he suggested.
“Unthinkable. Oh—” Her face looked suddenly bleak. “Are you imagining that either Juniper or Mr. Pryce may deliberately have poisoned Judge Stafford?”
“Do you not find it possible?”
She thought for several moments before replying very quietly. Now the preoccupation with society and all the small protocols and jealousies was gone.
“Yes—yes, it is possible. I …”
Pitt waited.
“I hate to say such a thing,” she finished lamely. She looked acutely uncomfortable. “Juniper is not … wise, in her emotions.”
“Do you believe Mr. Stafford was aware of the relationship?” Pitt asked.
Mrs. Livesey pushed out her lips. “Oh—oh, I doubt it. It is not the sort of thing men notice, unless they are predisposed towards jealousy. And he was decidedly not of such a nature. One can tell.” Again she looked at him to see if he understood. “He did not watch her, or seem aware of whom she was with. There are differences in behavior that are not apparent to a man, unless he too is in love. Had they been newly married—perhaps …” She tailed off unhappily.
“Do you suppose other women of her acquaintance were more observant?”
“Undoubtedly,” she replied with a rueful smile. “Adolphus Pryce is a most attractive man, and unmarried. He is the center of much attention. His smallest act will be remarked and analyzed. A considerable number of feminine eyes are upon him.”
“Then Mrs. Stafford will not be popular,” Pitt observed with a mixture of humor and pity.
“Hardly,” she agreed vehemently, then was instantly self-conscious and rushed into explanation. “There are not sufficient eligible gentlemen to go around. For one woman to have two is a breach of all fairness.”
Pitt looked at her broad figure and aging face and wondered what thoughts for Adolphus Pryce, or his like, had passed through her mind. How much did she resent the passions that Juniper had indulged in herself—and inspired in him?
“You did not say anything to Mr. Stafford which might have led him to realize his wife’s regard for Mr. Pryce?” he asked aloud. “Even inadvertently, and in sympathy for his situation, perhaps?”
The anger lit her eyes, then was dimmed again as he explained himself.
“I did not,” she said decisively. “I find it is best to refrain from any interference in other people’s affairs. It never helps.”
“No, I imagine not,” he agreed.
He had probably learned all he could from her. The affaire had lasted between a year and two years, and was discreet, but not unknown, certainly to other women. There was every possibility some busy tongue had told Judge Stafford, but if so he was not likely to have reacted violently or with great distress. Every new piece of information brought him back either to Juniper or Adolphus Pryce, or conceivably to both of them.
“Thank you, Mrs. Livesey,” he said politely, forcing himself to smile. “You have been of great assistance to me. I hope you will keep the matter as discreet as you have so far. It would be an evil thing to malign Mrs. Stafford’s reputation, or Mr. Pryce’s, if it turns out they are quite innocent of any part in the judge’s death. There are plenty of other possibilities; this is merely one it is unfortunately my duty to explore.”
“Of course,” she said hastily. “I quite understand, I assure you. I shall treat it with the utmost confidence.”
He hoped she did, and was as wise as her husband believed, but as he rose and took his leave, Pitt was not entirely sure. There was an unhappiness in her which hungered for something beyond her reach. And he knew she had no love for Juniper Stafford. How much of her assessment of Samuel Stafford was actually her knowledge of her
