Traitors Gate - Anne Perry [150]
“I had not realized you were so fond of her.” She stopped, afraid that she sounded petulant and he would misunderstand. Or was it misunderstanding? Was she not jealous? How absurd, and worse than that, how ugly. “She was indeed extremely charming.” That sounded trite and flat. “And so very alive. I find it painful to acknowledge that she is gone. I should very much have liked to know her better.”
“I liked her,” he replied, staring at the spires of the delphiniums. They were already in bud heavily enough to tell which were the dark blue, which sky blue, and which either white or pink. “There was an honesty in her which is all too rare. But that is not why I lie awake over her death.” He frowned, turning to face her. “Which I thought you knew. You are less direct than goes with your intelligence. I shall have to remember that. It is most feminine. I think I like it.”
Now she was thoroughly confused, and felt the color burning up her cheeks. She avoided his eyes. “I am not at all sure I know what you mean. Why are you so distressed by her death, if it is not offensive to ask? I cannot believe it is pain for Linus Chancellor. I formed the distinct impression you did not care for him at all.”
“I don’t,” he agreed. “At least, I have no objection to the man himself. In fact I admire him intensely. He has energy, intelligence, talent and the will to harness them to a purpose, which is the key to it all. Many men have all the attributes for success except that. Will and discipline can make a man.” He walked another few steps before continuing, his hands thrust into his pockets. “But I disagree passionately with his beliefs and plans for Africa. But you already know that.”
“So why are you so distraught?” she asked.
“Because I quarreled with her the evening before the night she died.”
Nobby was startled. She had not believed him a man to have such a tender, even superstitious conscience. It sat ill with everything else she knew of him. Of course there were incongruities in people’s characters, sudden traits that seemed quite contradictory, but this caught her completely by surprise.
“That’s foolish,” she said with a smile. “I doubt you were so unpleasant as to give you cause to feel guilty, just because it was not resolved. You differed in view about settlement in Zambezia. It was an honest difference. I am sure she would not—”
“For heaven’s sake!” he interrupted with a laugh of derision. “I will stand by what I said to God himself! Certainly to Susannah Chancellor, dead or alive! No—it was a public place, and I am quite certain I was thoroughly observed, and the matter will have been reported to the police. Your diligent friend Pitt will be very aware of it. He has already been to see me. He was polite, of course, but also, underneath the good manners, very suspicious. It would suit a good many people if I were charged with murdering her. It would …” He stopped, seeing the alarm in her face.
He smiled self-mockingly. “Oh come, Nobby. Don’t pretend you don’t know that. The sooner the matter is settled, the greater honor there will be for the police, the press will leave them alone, and no one will need to look too exhaustively into poor Susannah’s life. Although I am sure it was as pure as most people’s; still it is an unpleasant exercise, and bound to offend a few whose lives touched hers, perhaps less than honorably.”
“‘Less than honorably’?” She was surprised, and not sure what he meant.
He smiled ruefully. “Mine to begin with,” he confessed. “The quarrel was innocent enough, not personal, a matter of conviction; but viewed by others who did not know what was said, it might look otherwise. I have no doubt there will be other people who would not care to have every word or gesture examined by the prurient and unkind.” He looked at her with a gentleness touched with humor which set her pulses racing. “Have you not been guilty of foolishness now and then which you would rather remained private? Or a word or an act that was hasty, shabbier than you wished?”
“Yes of course I have.”