Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [47]
She looked up at him and saw his surprise, and a gentleness that made her acutely self-conscious. The only way to cover the discomfort was to continue talking.
‘After that, when Thomas and I were married, I am afraid I meddled a good deal in many of his cases, particularly those where society people were involved. I had an advantage in being able to meet them socially, and observe things he never could. One listens to gossip as a matter of course. It is largely what society is about. But when you do it intelligently, actually trying to learn things, comparing what one person says with what another does, asking questions obliquely, weighing answers, you cannot help but learn much that is private to other people, painful, vulnerable, and absolutely none of your affair. Both pity and disillusionment can be much more painful than one has any idea, until you taste them.’
He moved his head very slightly in assent; he knew it was not necessary to speak.
For a little while they rode in silence. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels over the railway ties was comfortable, almost somnolent. It had been a difficult and tiring few days and Charlotte found herself drifting into a daze, and woke with a start. Please heaven she had not been lolling there with her mouth open!
She did not yet know anything like enough about what she could do to help.
‘Do you know who it was at Lisson Grove who betrayed you?’ she said aloud.
He answered immediately, as if he had been waiting for her to speak. Had he been sitting there watching her? It was an extraordinarily uncomfortable thought.
‘No, I don’t,’ he admitted. ‘I have considered several possibilities. In fact, the only people I am certain it is not are Thomas, and a man called Stoker. It makes me realise how incompetent I have been that I suspected nothing. I was always looking outward, at the enemies I knew. In this profession I should have looked behind me as well.’
She did not argue. It would have been a transparent and perhaps rather patronising attempt at giving comfort.
‘So we can trust no one in Special Branch, apart from Stoker,’ she concluded. ‘Then I suppose we need to concentrate on Ireland. Why does Cormac O’Neil hate you so much? If I am to learn anything, I need to know what to build upon.’
This time Narraway did not look away from her, but she could hear the reluctance in his voice. He told her only because he had to. ‘When he was planning an uprising I was the one who learned about it, and prevented it. I did it by turning his sister-in-law, Sean’s wife, and using the information she gave me to have his men arrested and imprisoned.’
‘I see.’
‘No, you don’t,’ he said quickly, his voice tight. ‘And I have no intention of telling you any further. But because of it Sean killed her, and was hanged for her murder. It is that which Cormac cannot forgive. If it had simply been a battle he would have considered it the fortunes of war. He might have hated me at the time, but it would have been forgotten, as old battles are. But Sean and Kate are still dead, still tarred as a betrayer and a wife murderer. I don’t know why he waited so long. That is the one piece of it I don’t understand.’
‘Perhaps it doesn’t matter,’ she said sombrely. It was a tragic story, even ugly, and she was certain he had edited it very heavily in the telling. It might be to hide a Special Branch secret, but she was sure that he was also ashamed of his part in it.
‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.
‘I still have friends in Dublin, I think,’ he answered. ‘I cannot approach Cormac myself. I need someone I can trust, who looks totally innocent and unconnected with me. I . . . I can’t even go anywhere with you, or he would suspect you immediately. Bring me the facts. I can put them together.’ He seemed about to add something more, then changed his mind.
‘Are you worried that I won’t know what is important?’ she asked. ‘Or that I won’t remember and tell you accurately?’
‘No. I know perfectly well that you can do both.’
‘Do you?’ She was surprised.
He smiled, briefly. ‘You tell