A Breach of Promise - Anne Perry [58]
Rathbone smiled. “I’m sure you wouldn’t. But there is an optimism, or an arrogance, in many of us which makes us believe we can teach someone to love us if only we have the chance.” Then he wondered immediately if he should have said that. Was it not too close to the unspoken, vulnerable core of what lay inside himself? Did he not dream that with the chance, the time, the intimacy, Hester would learn to love him with the passion of her nature, not merely the abiding friendship? It had never occurred to him before that he might have anything in common with Melville beyond a terror of being trapped into a marriage he did not want. But perhaps he had?
He found himself unable to meet her eyes. He looked away, at the curtains, through the window at the trees, then at Gabriel.
He saw a flash of something in Gabriel’s face which could have been understanding. Gabriel was intelligent, sensitive, and before his injury he must have been remarkably handsome. His was a world of loss which made Melville’s situation, and even Zillah Lambert’s hurt feelings, seem so trivial, so easy to settle with a word or two of goodwill and an ability to forgive. If they were to smile and remain friends, society would talk about it for a brief while, but only until the next scandal broke.
“I shall put it to him.” He turned to Hester at last. “Thank you for helping me to clarify my mind. I feel as if I have the case in better perspective.” He smiled at her, then looked again at Gabriel. “Thank you for your indulgence, Lieutenant Sheldon. You have been most gracious. I wish you a speedy return of health.”
Gabriel bade him good-bye, as did Athol, and Hester rose and went with him to the door. Out on the landing, she looked at him gravely, studying his face. Was she imagining something personal rather than professional in his coming? He would very much rather she did not. He was not ready to commit himself again.
“Thank you,” he repeated.” I—I find myself at a loss to understand the case, and I am afraid I shall be of little help to my client until I do. It all seems like needless pain at the moment. I have no defense to offer for him.”
“There must be something vital that you don’t know,” she said seriously. There was no disappointment in her face that he could see, and certainly no withdrawing, or sense of criticism, or hope deferred. The knot of anxiety eased inside him. He found himself smiling at nothing.
“I think you need to know what it is,” she went on. “It may be … physical.”
“I have thought of that,” he said truthfully. “But how do you ask a man such a thing? Most men would suffer anything, even imprisonment, rather than admit it.”
“I know,” she answered so softly it was little more than a whisper. “But there are euphemisms which could be used, white lies. A doctor could be found to swear he had some illness which would make marriage impossible. Her father would understand that, even if she did not.”
“Of course … thank you for clarifying the thought so well. I …” He bit his lip ruefully. “I admit I had not known how to phrase it to ask him. Although I am not at all sure that is the answer.”
“Well, if it is not, you need to learn what is.” She was perfectly direct. “You cannot afford to lose the case because you were unaware of the personal facts.”
“I know. Of course you are right. I suppose I shall have to learn them for myself”—he smiled suddenly, widely—“and charge my client accordingly. In which case I had better win!”
She smiled back and put out her hand to touch his with quick warmth, then started down the stairs to introduce him to Perdita Sheldon, who was standing at the bottom looking puzzled.
5
MONK STOOD near the fireplace in his rooms and stared at the flames as the coals settled in a shower of