Page 75 of Evidence of Evil
He stared blindly out of the window. “Where did you meet her?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I promised her my discretion.”
“That does not comfort me.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
He caught his breath and met her gaze once more. “There were three weeks between her leaving her parents’ house and entering yours. Where was she?”
“I don’t know. Staying alive. Keeping her baby alive.”
He closed his eyes.Why did she keep this from me?
He knew the answer, of course. Because she thought he could not bear it. And it seemed he couldn’t. Or not yet.
He was walking blindly toward the door. “You had better not go immediately. Not until I can work out whether or not I should truly thank you.”
He went out of the room without closing the door. Manson and Mrs. Haslett seemed to be arguing by the baize door to the servants’ quarters. Ignoring them, he strode straight to his study, where he could be sure of being left alone.
*
Elizabeth did notgo straight to bed. She went blindly across the hall and almost bumped into Mrs. Haslett, whose eyes glittered with fury.
Go on, then, give notice, say what you like. I don’t care.In fact she had no intention of listening.
But the housekeeper’s voice was gentle enough to halt her with astonishment. “They didn’t do it. Thank God. We won’t let them, you know. Will I bring you a calming posset to your bedchamber?”
The unprecedented kindness almost undid Elizabeth. Later, perhaps, she would feel the warmth of it and be grateful. Right now, she could not bear it.
“Thank you, no,” she managed. “I am not yet ready to retire. Goodnight, Mrs. Haslett.”
She marched away to the dining room, where she found Solomon Grey sitting alone and brooding, twisting his empty wine glass in his fingers. But he glanced up as she entered and rose quickly to his feet.
“Trouble?”
“They tried to arrest me for Frances’s murder, but Constance saw them off.”
A smile flickered across his full lips. It struck her, irrelevantly, that he should smile more often.
“She is rather wonderful, isn’t she?” Elizabeth said shakily. “The trouble is, I’m not sure Humphrey will see it that way. Not once he knows who she is. I think the police know already. I thought I should warn you.”
He shrugged very slightly. “I believe the police have an understanding of some kind with Constance.”
“Humphrey doesn’t.” She sat down suddenly in the chair at the head of the table, the one Humphrey must have vacated in such a hurry less than half an hour ago. His half-empty glass stood in front of her. “What should I do?”
“Tell him the truth. He already knows the worst of it.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Elizabeth replied with more than a hint of desperation. “He might suspect, but he does notknow.”
“Don’t you think suspicion is worse than knowledge? For both of you?”
“No,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Knowledge would require him todosomething. I am hiswife.”
“Exactly,” Solomon said. “And he is a good man who has already shown himself capable of understanding and kindness. Why should you believe his affection is so limited?”
