The William Monk Mysteries_ The First Three Novels - Anne Perry [375]
Before Monk could reply the door opened and a lovely but disheveled young woman stood facing them, her fair hair over her shoulders, her gown wrapped around by a shawl. She held it with one slender, pale hand grasped close to her throat. She stared at Monk, disregarding Pole.
“Who are you? Polly said you are trying to help Mama. How can you do that?”
Monk rose to his feet. “William Monk, Mrs. Pole. I am employed by your mother’s barrister, Mr. Rathbone, to see if I can learn something to mitigate her case.”
She stared at him in silence. Her eyes were very wide and fixed, and there was a hectic color in her cheeks.
Pole had risen when she came in, and now he turned to her gently. “Sabella, my dear, there is no cause to let this concern you. I think you should go back and lie down …”
She pushed him away angrily and came towards Monk. Pole put his hand on her arm and she snatched it away from him.
“Mr. Monk, is it possible you can do something to help my mother? You said ‘mitigation.’ Does that mean the law might take into account what manner of man he was? How he bullied us, forced us to his will regardless of our own desires?”
“Sabella …” Pole said urgently. He glared at Monk. “Really, Mr. Monk, this is all irrelevant and I—”
“It is not irrelevant!” Sabella said angrily, cutting across him. “Will you be good enough to answer me, Mr. Monk?”
He heard the rising hysteria in her voice and it was quite obvious she was on the edge of losing control altogether. It was hardly remarkable. Her family had been shattered by the most appalling double tragedy. She had effectively lost both her parents in a scandal which would ruin their reputations and tear her family life apart and expose it to public ignominy. What could he say to her that would not either make it worse or be totally meaningless? He forced his dislike of Pole out of his mind.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Pole,” he said very gently. “I hope so. I believe she must have had some reason to do such a thing—if indeed it was she who did it. I need to learn what the reason was: it may be grounds for some sort of defense.”
“For God’s sake, man!” Pole exploded furiously, his face tight with rage. “Have you no sense of decency at all? My wife is ill—can you not see that? I am sorry, but Mrs. Carlyon’s defense, if indeed there can be any, lies with her solicitors, not with us. You must do what you can and not involve my wife. Now I must ask you to leave, without causing any more distress than you already have.” He stood, holding his position rather than moving towards Monk, but his threat was plain. He was a very angry man, and Monk thought he was also frightened, although his fear might well be for his wife’s mental state and nothing more. Indeed she did look on the border of complete collapse.
Monk no longer had authority to insist, as he had when a policeman. He had no choice but to leave, and do it with as much dignity as possible. Being asked to leave was galling enough, being thrown out would be a total humiliation, which he would not endure. He turned from Pole to Sabella, but before he could collect his own excuses, she spoke.
“I have the deepest affection for my mother, Mr. Monk, and regardless of what my husband says, if there is anything at all I can do …” She stood rigidly, her body shaking, very deliberately ignoring Pole. “I shall do it! You may feel free to call upon me at any time. I shall instruct the servants that you are to be allowed in, and I am to be told.”
“Sabella!” Pole was exasperated. “I forbid it! You really have no idea what you are saying—”
Before he could finish she swung around on him in fury, her face spotted with color, her eyes brilliant, lips twisted.
“How dare you forbid me to help my mother! You are just like Papa—arrogant, tyrannical, telling me what I may and may not do, regardless of my feelings or what I know to be right.” Her voice was getting higher and more and more shrill. “I will