A sudden, fearful death (6 page)

"The action of a Peeping Tom
does not frighten you, ma'am?"

"Oh dear no." She looked
at him narrowly. "I doubt if there really was one, you know. Miss
Gillespie is very young. Young girls are given to fancies at times, and to
nerves." She smoothed her skirts again and rearranged the billowing
fabric. "It comes of just sitting around waiting to meet a suitable young
man, and hoping he will choose her above her fellows?' She took a deep breath.
"Of course, she is very pretty, and that will help, but entirely dependent
upon her brother-in-law to support her until then. And as I understand it,
there is no dowry to mention. I shouldn't be too concerned, if I were you, Mr.
Monk. I expect it was a cat in the bushes, or some such thing."

"I see," Monk said
thoughtfully, not that his mind was on any kind of animal, or Marianne's
possible imagination, but upon her financial dependence. "I daresay you
are right," he added quickly. "Thank you, Mrs. Hylton. I think I
shall take your advice and abandon the pursuit. I wish you good day,
ma'am."

He had luncheon in a small, busy
public house in the Euston Road, and then walked for some time in deep thought,
hands in his pockets. The more he considered the evidence the more he disliked
the conclusions it suggested. He had never thought it likely anyone came over
the garden wall, now he considered it so improbable as to exclude it from his
mind. Whoever had attacked Marianne had come through her own house, and
therefore was known either to her or to her sister, almost certainly both.

Since they did not intend to
prosecute, why had.they called Monk? Why had they mentioned the matter at all?

The answer to that was obvious.
Julia did not know of it. Marianne had been forced to explain the bruises in
some way, and her state of distress; probably her clothes were torn or stained
with grass or even blood. And for her own reasons she had not been willing to
tell Julia who it was. Perhaps she had encouraged him to begin with, and then
become frightened, and since she was ashamed, had claimed it was a stranger,
the only answer that would be morally acceptable. No one would believe she
would yield to a complete stranger or give him the slightest encouragement.

It was after three when he returned
to Hastings Street and again sought admittance. He found Julia in the withdrawing
room with Marianne and Audley, who had apparently come home early yet again.

"Mr. Monk?" he said with
quite open surprise. "I had not realized cousin Albert had spoken of us so
exceedingly well!"

"Audley!" Julia rose to
her feet, her cheeks hot pink. "Please come in, Mr. Monk. I am sure my
husband did not 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, furious
accusation.

"You think I was willing! Oh
dear heaven, how could you! How could you?" She jerked away and her voice
was filled with such horror his last vestiges of doubt vanished.

"No I don't," he
answered, aware of how facile that sounded. "But I think you are afraid
that people will believe it, so you are trying to protect yourself." He
avoided using the word
lying.

"You are wrong," she said
simply, but she did not turn back to face him. She still stood with shoulders
hunched and staring toward the shrubbery and the end wall of the garden beyond
which came the intermittent shouts of the Hylton children playing.

"How did he get in?" he
asked gently. "No stranger could come through the house."

"Then he must have come
through the herb garden," she replied.

"Past Rodwell? He said he saw
no one."

"He must have been somewhere
else." Her voice was flat, brooking no argument. "Maybe he went
'round to the kitchen for a few minutes. Perhaps he went for a drink of water,
or a piece of cake or something, and didn't like to admit it."

"And this fellow seized his
chance and came through into the back garden?" He did not try to keep the
disbelief from his voice.

"Yes."

"What for? There's nothing
here to steal. And what a risk! He couldn't know Rodwell would leave again. He
could have been caught here for hours."

"I don't know!" Her voice
rose desperately.

"Unless he knew you were
here?"

Finally she swung around, her eyes
brilliant. "I don't know!" she shouted. "I don't know what he
thought! Why don't you just admit you can't find him and go away? I never
thought you would. It's only Julia who even wants to, because she's so angry
for me. I told you you would never find anyone. It's ridiculous. There's no way
to know." Her voice caught in her throat huskily. "There cannot be.
If you don't want to explain to her, then I will."