The Sins of the Wolf - Anne Perry [24]
“Surely then there comes a friendship, and a kind of warmth that …” Hester’s voice trailed away. She sounded naive, even to herself. She felt her cheeks burning.
“One hopes so,” Mary said softly. “If you are fortunate, the tenderness and the understanding never die, nor the laughter, and the memories.” She looked beyond Hester as she spoke, towards something in her imagination.
Hester pictured the man in the portrait again, wondering when it had been painted, trying to see the marks of time in his face and how he might have changed, how familiarity might have stripped the glamour from him. She failed. To her there was still too much in his face which was unreachable, laughter and emotions that would always be his alone. Had Mary discovered that, and remained in love with him? Hester would never know, nor should she. Monk was like that. You would never know him well enough that he would no longer be able to surprise you, reveal some passion or belief you had not seen in him.
“Idealism is a poor bedfellow,” Mary said suddenly. “Something I must tell Griselda, poor child; and most certainly tell this man she has married. It may be fairy princes with whom one walks up the aisle, but it is certainly very ordinary mortals with whom we wake up the following morning. And since we are ordinary mortals too, that is no doubt just as well.”
Hester smiled in spite of herself. She prepared to stand up.
“It is growing late, Mrs. Farraline. Do you think I should take out your medicine now?”
“Should?” Mary raised her eyebrows. “Quite probably. But I am not yet ready to take it. To return to your original question, yes, I believe I shall go to the theater. I shall insist upon it. I have brought with me some gowns suitable for such occasions. Unfortunately I could not bring my favorite because it is silk, and I marked it right at the front where it shows.”
“Can it not be cleaned?” Hester said sympathetically.
“Oh certainly, but there wasn’t time before I left. I’m sure Nora will take care of it in my absence. But apart from the fact that I like it, unfortunately it is the only gown I have which really sets off my gray pearl pin, so I didn’t bring it. It is quite beautiful, but gray pearls are not easy to wear; I really don’t care for it with colors, or with anything that glitters. Still, no matter. It is only a week, and I daresay we shall have few enough formal occasions. And I am going in order to see Griselda, not to sample London’s social life.”
“I expect she is very excited about having her first child?”
“Not at the moment,” Mary said, pulling a small face. “But she will do. I am afraid she worries about her health overmuch. There is really nothing wrong with her, you know.” Mary stood up at last, and Hester rose to her feet quickly to offer her arm in assistance. “Thank you, my dear,” Mary accepted. “She just worries about every little ache and pain, imagining it to be some serious fault with the child, or some irreparable defect. That is a bad habit, and one men dislike intensely, unless, of course, it is something wrong with them.” She stood at the compartment entrance, slender and very straight, a smile on her lips. “I shall warn Griselda of that. And assure her that she has no cause for anxiety. Her child will be perfectly well.”
The train was slowing again, and when it reached the station they both alighted to take advantage of the facilities offered. Hester found herself returned to the carriage first. She did what she could to tidy the seats, spread the rug ready for Mary and shook the footwarmer again. It really was getting very chilly now and the darkness beyond the windows was spotted with rain. She took down the medicine chest and opened it. The vials were all stacked in neat rows, the first one already used, the glass empty. She had not noticed it when she had seen it in Edinburgh, but the glass was tinted and the liquid hard to see. Nora must