she won't have any idea that we are looking for abuse of children. She'll be thinking of herself, and the old charge about the general."
Hester said nothing.
"Then I'll go to the Carlyons'."
"The Carlyons'?" Now she was surprised. "You'll not find anything there, but even if you did, what good would it do? They'll all lie to protect him, and we know about him anyway! It's the other person we need to find - with proof."
"Not the colonel - Peverell Erskine."
She was stunned, her face filled with amazement and disbelief. "Peverell! Oh no! You can't think it was him!"
"Why not? Because we like him?" He was hurting himself as well as her and they both understood it. "Do you think it has to be someone who looks like a monster? There was no violence used, no hate or greed - just a man who has never grown up enough to find an appropriate closeness with an adult woman, a man who only feels safe with a child who won't judge him or demand a commitment or the ability to give, who won't see the flaws in his character or the clumsiness or inadequacy of his acts."
"You sound as if you want me to feel sorry for him," she said with tight, hard disgust, but he did not know whether that disgust was at him, at the abuses, or only at the situation - or even if it was so hard because underneath it was the wrench of real pity.
"I don't care what you feel," he lied back. "Only what you think. Just because Peverell Erskine is an agreeable man and his wife loves him doesn't mean he can't have weaknesses that destroy him - and others."
"I don't believe it of Peverell," she said stubbornly, but she gave no reason.
"That's just stupid," he snapped at her, aware of the anger inside himself to which he chose to give no name. "You're hardly much use if you are working on that level of intelligence."
"I said I don't believe it," she retorted equally violently. "I didn't say I wouldn't investigate the possibility."
"Oh yes?" He raised his eyebrows sarcastically."How?"
"Through Damaris, of course," she said with stinging contempt. "She discovered something that night - something that upset her beyond bearing. Had you forgotten that? Or did you just think I had?"
Monk stared at her, and was about to make an equally acid reply when the door opened again and Major Tiplady returned, immediately followed by the maid with a tray of tea, announcing that supper would be ready in a little over half an hour. It was the perfect opportunity to change his tone altogether, and be suddenly charming, to enquire after Major Tiplady's recovery, appreciate the tea, and even to speak courteously to Hester. They talked of other things: the news from India, the ugly rumors of opium war in China, the Persian War, and unrest in the government at home. All the subjects were distressing, but they were far away, and he found the brief half hour most agreeable, a relief from responsibility and the urgent present.
* * * * *
The following day Lovat-Smith called further witnesses as to the unblemished character of the general, his fine nature and heroic military record. Once again Hester went to court to watch and listen on Major Tiplady's behalf, and Monk went first to the house of Callandra Daviot, where he learned from her, to his chagrin, that she had been unable to find anything beyond the merest whisper to indicate that General Carlyon had ever formed any relationships that were anything but the most proper and correct. However, she did have extensive lists of names of all youths who had served with his regiment, both in England and in India, and she produced it with an apology.
"Don't worry," he said with sudden gentleness. "This may be all we need."
She looked at him with something close to a squint, disbelief plain in her face.
He scanned down the list rapidly to see if the name of the Furnivals' bootboy was there. It was on the second page, Robert Andrews, honorable discharge, owing to wounds received in action. He looked up, smiling at her.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Maybe," he answered. "I'm going to find out."
"Monk!"
"Yes." He looked at her with a sudden awareness of how much she had done for him. "I think this may be the Furnivals' bootboy," he explained with a lift of hope in his voice. "The one who dropped all the laundry when he came face-to-face with