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“We can’t blame ourselves for that!” Sacheverall said quickly, a flush of anger marking his cheeks.
Zillah appeared not even to have heard him. She remained looking at Monk.
“I don’t know what it was, Miss Lambert,” he answered. “If that was the cause, I don’t understand why she did not tell the truth. It would have ruined her professional reputation in this country, but there are other countries, and she had lived and studied in some of them. Surely that would have been better than death? The only crime she was accused of was so easily explained.”
“Easily!” Sacheverall said with amazement. “Perhaps in your ci
rcles, Monk, but hardly in the society in which he—she moved, and among the people who would be her patrons. I think you forget she practiced her profession among the very cream of society, not the sort of person who might regard that kind of … perversion … as acceptable.”
Zillah swung around to glare at him. “It was not a perversion!” she defended hotly. “She did nothing wrong or not … normal. She only dressed as a man; she didn’t behave as one in—in a personal sense.” The color was hot in her cheeks also, but for the embarrassment of having to seek words for something she was uncertain of and which it was indelicate to discuss. “You are trying to say that she was in some way mad, and that’s not true.”
“My dear Zillah, you have no idea what she may have done … in private!” Sacheverall expostulated.
“Neither have you!” she said instantly. “You are suggesting something ugly, but you don’t know.”
“We know she killed herself,” he said gently. “That is unarguable. Young people in good health, with sufficient funds and a stable character, do not take their own lives. It is a crime against God, as well as against the state.” He looked calm and satisfied with that answer.
Zillah looked back at Monk. “Is that true?”
“It is part of the truth,” he agreed.
“And the rest of it?”
“Zillah …” Delphine said warningly.
“The rest of it?” Her eyes did not deviate from Monk’s.
“The rest of it is that I wonder if she did kill herself, or if someone else did in order to bring the case to a conclusion before I investigated any further and uncovered something unpleasant,” he replied.
She looked completely confused, as if she could see no sense in what he had said.
Sacheverall let out a guffaw of ridicule.
“What were you investigating?” Zillah asked. “About Killian? I—I mean Keelin … I don’t understand a great deal about the law, but if there was something, surely if she told Sir Oliver, he would have kept it secret? Doesn’t he have to, if he was her barrister? Anyway, what could it be?” Her brow darkened. “And why were you investigating her? Sir Oliver was supposed to be defending her. He was on her side!” She was indignant. She felt a trust had been abused.
“No, Miss Lambert,” Monk said softly. “I was investigating you.”
“Me?” She was amazed. “I have nothing to hide.”
“What about Hugh Gibbons?”
“Oh!” She looked away and the color rushed crimson up her cheeks. “Well, that was all rather foolish. I suppose I was indiscreet—”
“Zillah!” Delphine said warningly.
Sacheverall frowned and stood perfectly still. It was the first time he had seemed uncertain of himself since Monk had come in.
Zillah ignored her mother. She was still facing Monk. “I did not behave very well. I should know better now. I would not permit myself to become so … emotional. Unless, of course, I were married.” She took a deep breath but did not lower her eyes.
Monk found himself feeling extraordinarily partisan towards her. Each time he saw her, it became easier to understand why Keelin Melville had liked her so much she had inadvertently allowed this tragedy to happen.
“Perhaps anyone who is capable of passion is indiscreet at some time or other,” he said quietly. He had no idea how he might have erred in his own youth. It was gone, with all his other memories. But he knew himself well enough to be sure it had occurred, and probably often. Not that it was the same for women, of course—at least not to society.
“That is hardly a worthy sentiment, Mr. Monk,” Delphine said, looking quickly at Sacheverall and away again. “I would be obliged if you would not express it here. It is not the way we believe—or behave. Zillah was fond of this young man and saw him more frequently than we desired. It was inevitable, since he moved in the same circles. Before he became too enamored of her and overstepped propriety, or we unintentionally encouraged hopes in him that would not be fulfilled, we went for a short holiday to Crickieth, in North Wales.” She forced herself to smile. “By the time we returned he had formed an attachment for another young lady, altogether more suitable to his age and situation. The word passion is far too strong for such a childhood fondness.”
Her words fell in silence, as if they all knew they were a gilding of the truth to such a point as to amount to a lie. Zillah was the only one who seemed unconcerned.
“What has it to do with Keelin’s death?” she persisted. “Hugh wouldn’t have harmed anyone over me, no matter how ardent he seemed at the time. He said a lot of things he didn’t mean. He was hotheaded, but there was no real violence in him.”
