A Fearsome Doubt - Charles Todd [16]
Henrietta, the spaniel, had just presented Elizabeth with puppies, five of them, still blind and squirming and noisy. They lay in a box near the hearth, and Henrietta rose to greet Rutledge before warily allowing him to admire her family. Elizabeth was on the floor beside the box, clearly entranced, giving him the name of each tiny ball of fur.
He could hardly tell one from another, except by the liver-colored spots, but dutifully gave his attention to each in turn, while Henrietta licked his hand and watched attentively as Elizabeth lifted her brood one by one and held the newborns up for his inspection. He found himself thinking that Elizabeth herself would have made a wonderful mother, but there had never been any children in her marriage. Richard had been philosophical about it. “Early days,” he’d said. But time had run out.
When the maid brought tea, Elizabeth went to wash her hands and Henrietta climbed gratefully back into her box, nosing each of her treasures, as if to reassure herself that none had gone missing. Rutledge leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Hamish, in the back of his mind, was saying something about Richard. He ignored it, and tried to put London and the Yard out of his thoughts for the evening. It would not do to drag the Shaws into Elizabeth’s uncomplicated world, and yet Rutledge found himself wishing he could talk to her as he would have done to her husband. A barrister, Richard would have understood Rutledge’s dilemma and heard the story out without criticism or comment. Elizabeth would worry over Ben Shaw’s innocence as well as his guilt, and leave the subject more tangled than it was. . . .
She came back into the room just then and, seeing him with his eyes closed, said briskly, “You need your tea!” and proceeded to pour him a cup.
Hamish said, “A wee dram o’ whisky would do more good.”
THE WHISKY CAME at the Hamiltons, a stiff drink that Lawrence Hamilton handed him with the admonition “You’ll need this!”
Elizabeth had gone upstairs to speak to Lydia, and the two men were alone in the drawing room.
Rutledge said, “I hear Masters hasn’t been well.” He had met the man a time or two in the courts, but hardly knew him at all.
“No, he hasn’t. And it’s been difficult for him. Not only the loss of his limb, but the constant pain and the dragging down of his spirits. He had to give up the law, you know, and that was possibly worse than amputation. He loved his work.” Lawrence was square, fair, with a ruddy complexion. “Still, he’s a man of uncertain moods. Always was, for all I know, but now it’s noticeable. Lydia and Elizabeth and a few other friends have tried to make his illness bearable for Bella—”
He broke off as the maid ushered in another guest. Melinda Crawford swept into the room with grace, a tall woman, slim now with age, and wearing the evening dress of another reign: gray silk, with lace high to the throat and binding the sleeves at her wrists. Her white hair, piled high in shining waves, was still thick, and the handsome blue eyes were unclouded. The beautiful ebony cane in her left hand was more affectation than necessity.
She greeted her host with warmth, and then regarded Rutledge with interest. “You survived the war, then. Why haven’t you been to see me?”
Rutledge answered, “First I had to find my way back into civilian life.” But it was Hamish that he had wanted to hide from her. Melinda Crawford had seen war, had nursed the wounded and comforted the dying when she was only ten; her experience was so vast that he had been afraid she would instantly read his secret in his eyes.
He went to kiss her cheek, and she held him off for a moment, studying his face. “Ah. And have you found your way?” She let him kiss her then, and took his arm as he led her to the small French love seat.
“I don’t know. I expect you’ll tell me?”
She laughed gently. “War has done nothing for your manners, I see. But it’s good to have you back. Lawrence, is that sherry I see at your elbow?”
He brought her a glass and she sipped it. “One of the privileges of age,”