Dark Assassin - Anne Perry [38]
Hester wanted to laugh, but it might hurt their feelings, as if she did not take death seriously. She did, infinitely seriously. But she knew that in the drowning, suffocating horror of war or epidemic disease, laughter, however black, was sometimes the only bulwark against defeat—or madness. But one could not say so in a London withdrawing room, or morning room, or any part of the house at all.
“No, no,” she assured Rose. “In fact, I would like to remember it to say again. There will be countless times when it will be appropriate. Would you like attribution, or prefer I forget who said it first?”
Rose blinked, but it was with pleasure as well as self-consciousness. “I think it might be better for my husband’s position if you forgot,” she replied reluctantly. “The House of Commons is extremely robust in its opinions, but then there are no ladies speaking, and that makes all the difference.” Her mouth pulled in an expression of wry distaste.
Hester understood. She had been freer to say what she thought on the fringes of the battlefield, and had found the return to England painfully restrictive. She went back again to the subject of Mary Havilland. “Did you know her family?” she asked.
Rose shrugged. “Slightly. I liked Mary very much, and it was difficult to do that and be more than civil to the rest of them.”
“They were at odds?”
“Oh, yes. You see, Jenny—that is her elder sister, Jenny Argyll—is completely devoted to her husband and children, as she has to be.” An expression of both irritation and surrender crossed her face.
“Has to be?” Hester asked quickly.
“I have no children to depend upon me, and a husband whom I would trust to the ends of the earth. But few women are as fortunate as I am, and Jenny Argyll is certainly not among them.” Rose shrugged again.
“I believe Alan Argyll is reasonable enough, but if he has faults, Jenny may naturally prefer not to be more aware of them than she is obliged to be. She will not appreciate her sister finding them for her, since she cannot afford to address them! When you are helpless, ignorance is a great comfort.”
“And Mary…did that?” Hester asked. “Either his faults were very grave indeed, or she was very insensitive.” A darker picture was forming at the back of her mind.
“I don’t know,” Rose admitted. “Of course, when we love someone, we don’t always exercise the best sense when warning them of what we perceive to be a danger. I do know that Mary broke off her own betrothal to Toby Argyll, Alan’s younger brother. She was candid about it to me.”
“Candid?” Hester pressed, uncertain what Rose meant. “You mean she told you why she broke it off? Was it something she learned of him?” She would rather not have known, but it could not be avoided now. “Was that what…”
“Oh, no!” Rose said quickly. “You mean did she learn that Toby had some part in her father’s death? And she couldn’t bear it? Is that what you are thinking?”
“Yes,” Hester admitted. “It might be enough to break one’s spirit, even that of someone very strong.”
“Not Mary.” Rose had no doubt in her voice at all. She was sitting upright in the chair now, back straight. “She wasn’t in love with Toby, not really in love, where her world would be plunged into darkness without him! She liked him well enough. She thought his was probably the best offer she would get. After all, how many of us really fall headlong in love with someone we can marry?” She smiled as she said it, her hands relaxed in her lap, and Hester knew that she was not including herself when she spoke. “Most women make an acceptable bargain,” Rose continued. “And Mary was realistic enough to do that. But believe me, breaking it off did not cast her into despair.” She lowered her voice confidentially. “In fact, I think that part of it was no small relief to her. She could refuse him with an easy conscience. No one would expect her to marry so soon after her father’s death, poor soul.”
“My dear, you should not repeat that,” Applegate warned.
“I shan’t,” she promised. Apparently she felt that telling Hester was a matter of honor, a debt