Bluegate Fields - Anne Perry [64]
But then, as Land pointed out with something close to embarrassment, there was a great deal she did not know. And, being a lady of decent upbringing and gentle disposition, it would never have occurred to her to be jealous of a schoolboy! In fact, she probably had not even known of the existence of such depraved practices.
No, she admitted, white to the lips, she had not. And she did not believe it now. It may be true of some, if Mr. Land said so; but it was not true of her husband. He was a decent man—indeed, highly moral. Even uncouth language offended him, and he never took alcohol. She had never known him to exhibit the least vulgarity.
They permitted her to go, and Charlotte wished she would leave the court. It was hopeless—nothing could save Jerome. It was pathetic, even vaguely revolting, to hope.
Nevertheless it ground on.
Another, less biased witness—a previous employer—was called regarding Jerome’s character. He was embarrassed to be there and it was obviously very much against his wish. While he did not want to say anything that might ally him with Jerome in the public mind, he could hardly admit to having been aware of any long-standing flaw in Jerome’s character. He had recommended him without reservation; he was now obliged to stand by that recommendation or appear a fool. And since he was an investment banker, that he could not possibly afford to do.
He duly swore that while living in his house and tutoring his sons, Jerome had appeared to be of exemplary character, and certainly he had never behaved improperly toward either of his sons.
And would the witness know if he had, Land inquired courteously.
There was a long hesitation while he weighed the consequences of either answer.
“Yes,” he said firmly at last. “Certainly I would. I am naturally concerned with the welfare of my family.”
Land did not pursue it. He nodded and sat down, knowing a fruitless course when he saw it.
The only other witness of character was Esmond Vanderley. It was he who had recommended Jerome to Waybourne. Like the previous witness, Vanderley was caught between two poles: appearing to support Jerome and—far worse than merely being a poor judge of character—having been the single individual who had more than any other precipitated the tragedy they were discussing. After all, it was he who had brought Maurice Jerome into the house and thus into Arthur Waybourne’s life—and death.
He swore to his name and his relationship with the Waybourne household.
“Lady Waybourne is your sister, Mr. Vanderley?” Giles repeated.
“Yes.”
“And Arthur Waybourne was your nephew?”
“Naturally.”
“So you would not lightly or casually recommend a tutor for him, knowing the effect it would have on his personal and academic life?” Giles pressed.
There was only one answer that allowed self-respect.
“Of course,” Vanderley said with a slight smile. He leaned elegantly over the rail. “I would make myself unpopular rather quickly if I were to recommend regardless. They come home to roost, you know!”
“Home to roost?” Giles was momentarily confused.
“Recommendations, Mr. Giles. People seldom remember the good advice you give them—they always take the credit themselves. But let them take your bad advice and they will instantly recall that it was not their own idea but yours that was to blame. Not only that, but they will make sure everyone else is made aware of it, too.
“May we take it, then, that you did not recommend Maurice Jerome without some considerable inquiry into his qualifications—and his character?”
“You may. His qualifications were excellent. His character was not especially pleasing, but then I was not intending to make a social acquaintance of him. His morality was impeccable, so far as it was discussed at all. One doesn’t mention such things, you know, when talking of tutors. Underhousemaids one has to inquire into—or, rather, one has the housekeeper do it. But a tutor one expects to be satisfactory unless stated otherwise. In which case, of course, one doesn’t employ