The William Monk Mysteries_ The First Three Novels - Anne Perry [414]
Had he succeeded? He did not even know that. Or for that matter, if she was innocent or guilty. And why had he cared with such personal anguish? What had been their relationship? Had she cared for him as deeply, or was she simply turning to him because she was desperate and terrified?
“Sir?” Ginny was staring at him. “Are you all right, sir?”
“Oh—oh yes, thank you. What did you say?”
“What would folks reckon was a reason why it might be all right for a lady to kill ’er ’usband? I don’t know of none.”
“Why do you think she did it?” Monk asked baldly, his wits still too scattered to be subtle. “Was she jealous of Mrs. Furnival?”
“Oh no sir.” Ginny dismissed it out of hand. “I don’t like to speak ill of me betters, but Mrs. Furnival weren’t the kind o’ person to—well, sir, I don’t rightly know ’ow to put it-”
“Simply.” Monk’s attention was entirely on her now, the memory dismissed for the time being. “Just in your own words. Don’t worry if it sounds ill—you can always take it back, if you want.”
“Thank you, sir, I’m sure.”
“Mrs. Furnival.”
“Well, sir, she’s what my granny used to call a flighty piece, sir, beggin’ yer pardon, all smiles and nods and eyes all over the place. Likes the taste o’ power, but not one to fall what you’d call in love, not to care for anyone.”
“But the general might have cared for her? Was he a good judge of women?”
“Lord, sir, he didn’t hardly know one kind o’ woman from another, if you take my meaning. He wasn’t no ladies’ man.”
“Isn’t that just the sort that gets taken in by the likes of anyone such as Mrs. Furnival?”
“No sir, because ’e weren’t susceptible like. I seen ’er when she was ’ere to dinner, and he weren’t interested ’ceptin’ business and casual talking like to a friend. And Mrs. Carlyon, she knew that, sir. There weren’t no cause for ’er to be jealous, and she never imagined there were. Besides …” She stopped, the pink color up her cheeks.
“Besides what, Ginny?”
Still she hesitated.
“Ginny, Mrs. Carlyon’s life is at stake. As it is, if we don’t find some good reason, she’ll hang! Surely you don’t think she did it without a good reason, do you?”
“Oh no sir! Never!”
“Well then…”
“Well, sir, Mrs. Carlyon weren’t that fond o’ the general anyway, as to mind all that terrible if occasionally ’e took ’is pleasures elsewhere, if you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I know what you mean. Quite a common enough arrangement, when a couple have been married a long time, no doubt. And did Mrs. Carlyon—have other interests?”
She colored very faintly, but did not evade the subject.
“Some time ago, sir, I did rather think as she favored a Mr. Ives, but it was only a little flattery, and enjoying his company, like. And there was Mr. McLaren, who was obviously very taken with ’er, but I don’t think she more than passing liked him. And of course she was always fond of Mr. Furnival, and at one time …” She lowered her eyes. “But that was four years ago now. And if you ask if she ever did anything improper, I can tell you as she didn’t. And bein’ ’er maid, like, an’ seein’ all ’er most private things, I would know, I’ll be bound.”
“Yes, I imagine you would,” Monk said. He was inclined to believe her, in spite of the fact that she could only be biased. “Well, if the general was not overly fond of Mrs. Furnival, is it possible he was fond of someone else, another lady, perhaps?”
“Well, if he was, sir, ’e hid it powerful well,” she said vehemently. “Holmes, that’s his valet, didn’t know about it—an’ I reckon he’d have at least an idea. No sir, I’m sorry, I can’t ’elp you at all. I truly believe as the general was an exemplary man in that respect. Everything in loyalty an’ honor a woman would want.”
“And in other respects?” Monk persisted. He glanced along the row of cupboards. “It doesn’t look as if he kept her short of money?”
“Oh no, sir. I don’t think ’e was very interested in what the mistress wore, but ’e weren’t never mean about it one bit. Always ’ad all she wanted, an’ more.”
“Sounds like a model husband,” Monk