A Breach of Promise - Anne Perry [100]
Mrs. Hanning had paid her duty visit. It had not been a success. She was preparing to leave—or rather more accurately, to beat a strategic retreat.
Perdita thanked her again for coming and prepared to accompany her downstairs. She walked very straight with her head high and her hands clenched by her sides, betraying her tenseness.
Monk looked back at Gabriel. He was still sitting upright, his shoulders stiff, but there was the beginning of a smile on the good side of his face. In spite of the fear in his eyes, there was also a flare of hope as he watched Perdita’s back disappear into the passageway.
Hester came into the room.
Monk wondered if she would refer to it or not. Perhaps it would be clumsy. Maybe it was still too delicate to be caught in words.
She looked at Gabriel, then at Monk, with anxiety in her eyes. Monk realized with a shock that she was not sure of what she had done. She had prompted the confrontation with hope but no certainty. He wanted to laugh because of the knowledge of her vulnerability it gave him. Without thinking about it he stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. It was a gesture of companionship, a desire she should know he understood.
She stiffened, motionless for a moment, then relaxed as if he had often done such a thing.
“How is your case progressing?” she asked him. Her voice quivered almost undetectably.
“Disastrously,” he replied. “I came hoping you could offer some advice, although I am not sure anything will do any good now.”
“Why? What has happened?” Now she forgot his gesture and thought only of the case.
“Nothing,” he said. “That is the point. The case is going to come to a conclusion without Rathbone’s having offered a shred of defense.”
Hester glanced at Gabriel.
He smiled back, his eyes bright, his right hand closing tightly on the chair arm. They could hear Perdita’s feet going down the stairs and Mrs. Hanning’s heavier tread a moment after.
None of them spoke. Again the silence filled the room so overwhelmingly Monk could hear a horse’s hooves on the road beyond the garden wall and the echo of a dropped tray somewhere far below them in the house, presumably the kitchen. He even thought he heard the front door open and close. Footsteps returned up the stairs. They all faced the door.
Perdita appeared, looking first at Gabriel, then at Hester.
“I was terribly rude, wasn’t I?” she said shakily. “I should never have said that to her about being a good companion. Her husband is dead, isn’t he?” She gulped her breath and sniffed loudly. Now that Mrs. Hanning was gone she no longer had the courage or the anger to hold herself up.
“Well …” Gabriel started.
“Yes, you were rude,” Hester agreed with a smile. “I daresay that is the first time a lieutenant’s wife has ever insulted her with impunity. It will do her the world of good.” She swung around. “Won’t it, Gabriel?”
He was uncertain whether to relax, as if it might be too soon—now that the moment of effort was past and quite different control was called for, a different self-mastery. He looked from Hester to Perdita as if he was seeing some aspect of his wife for the first time. Their relationship had altered. They had to begin again, discover, find the measure of things they used to take for granted.
“Yes …” Gabriel said tentatively. “Yes—I…” He laughed a little huskily. “Meeting her gives me a new feeling for John Hanning. I perceive things about him I didn’t before.”
“What was he like?” Perdita asked quickly. “Tell me about him.”
“Well—well, he was …”
Hester took Monk by the arm and led him out of the room, leaving Gabriel to tell Perdita about John Hanning: his nature, his weaknesses and strengths, how he fought, what he loved or hated, his memories of boyhood and home, and how he died in Gwalior during the Mutiny.
Outside on the landing Hester looked at Monk, searching his eyes.
He looked back at her, long and steadily. It was not uncomfortable; neither was daring the other to look away. For once there was no challenge