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“She was very forthright over what people say about each other, and what they really mean. With names. I’m sorry.” She meant it deeply.
He stared at her, the anger draining out of him. “I should have told you. She…she used to…” He spread his hands helplessly. “She hasn’t done it for years! Why now?” His eyes pleaded with her for a reason for the devastation that had descended on him with no warning.
Then suddenly she knew the answer. It was as obvious as a slap across the face. “Alan Argyll!” she said aloud. “He must have put something in her drink! He knew we were there to try to persuade Jenny to testify! It was after he joined us that Rose started to behave differently. Could he have known about her…weakness?” She would not insult either of them by mincing words. It was far too late now.
“If he had cared to find out,” Applegate admitted. He sat down slowly in the large leather seat just behind him, leaving her to do as she wished. He looked crumpled, like a rag doll someone had torn the stuffing from. “Was it awful?” he asked, without raising his eyes.
To lie would only leave him more vulnerable. “Yes,” she said simply. “It was also very funny and perfectly true, and it is the truth of it I fear people will neither forget nor forgive.”
He sat silently.
The fire was beginning to warm her through. The hem of her gown was steaming gently. She knelt down in front of him. “I’m sorry. We believed it was a good cause, and that we could win.”
“It is a good cause,” he said quietly. He seemed about to add something more, then changed his mind.
“Will she be all right?” Hester asked. “Tomorrow? The next day?” Then she thought with a chill how clumsy that was. It would never be all right for Applegate himself. His position would become untenable. He would never be able to take Rose to any social event after this. Possibly he would find it unbearable to go himself.
He lifted his head suddenly. His eyes were blurred with fear and exhaustion, but there was a light of decision in them. “I’ll give up my seat in Parliament. We’ll go back to the country. We have a house in Dorset. We can do a lot of good there, without ever coming to London again. It’s quiet and beautiful, and we can be more than happy. We’ll have each other, and that will be enough.”
Ridiculously, Hester felt her eyes fill with tears. He must love her so deeply and unquestioningly that all his happiness lay in being with her. His anger had been on her behalf, not against her. Perhaps it was even against himself, because he knew her weakness and had not protected her from it. Would Monk have been as gentle with Hester, as forgiving, as willing to sacrifice? She would probably never know.
“I’m sorry,” Applegate apologized. “Would you like something to eat? You must be frozen. It’s…I shouldn’t have blamed you. You couldn’t guard against something you knew nothing of. Or would you rather simply go home?”
She made herself smile at him. “I think actually I would like to go home and put on some dry clothes. It’s been a rotten night.”
“I’ll have my coachman take you,” he answered.
Monk flung the front door open almost before the carriage had stopped. When Hester alighted he strode out into the street, disregarding the rain.
“Where have you been?” he demanded. “You’re soaked and you look terrible. You were supposed to…” Then he saw the expression on her face and stopped. “What is it?”
Hester thanked the coachman and went inside. She was shivering again, so she sat down in the chair nearest the fire and huddled into herself. Now that she was no longer faced with Morgan Applegate’s grief or Rose’s urgent need, a profound sense of defeat settled over her. She wondered how she could ever have been so stupid as to think they could beat such vested interests. Her hubris had created her own downfall, and in her unthinking ignorance she had taken Rose with her.
“What happened?” Monk said again.
She described it as accurately as she could remember, although she left out a good deal of what Rose had said and summarized the rest. “Argyll must have put alcohol in her lemonade,” she finished. “I don’t know how—I didn’t see anything more than his hand over it for a moment. After tonight’s performance she’ll have to disappear, and neither she nor her husband will be able to give evidence of anything. And we won’t force anything out of Jenny Argyll, either. I won’t have any way of getting back into society without Rose. In fact…” The heat rose in her face. “In fact, I may be remembered rather unkindly for my part in this. I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry.”
He was startled. “You’re…why are you apologizing? What else is there that you haven’t told me, Hester?”
She stared at him. “Nothing! But they knew who I was, that I’m your wife. Aren’t policemen’s wives supposed to behave rather better than that?”
He gazed at her, wide-eyed, then he started to laugh. It was a deep, full-throated howl of incredulous hilarity.
“It’s not that funny!” she said indignantly.
But he laughed even more, and there was nothing she could do but lose her temper or join him. She chose the latter. They stood together in front of the fire, the tears running down their cheeks.
“I think you had better forget politics,” he said at last. “You aren’t any good at it.”
“I’m not usually as bad as this!” she defended herself, but without conviction. There was still defeat in her eyes.
“Yes, you are,” he replied, suddenly gentle again. “I think you should go back to nursing. At that you are superb.”
“No one will have me,” she told him ruefully.
“Yes, they will. In Portpool Lane, every one of them loves you—even Squeaky Robinson, in his own way.”
There was disbelief in her face, hesitation, then hope. “But you said—”
