Felicia said with a level, icily controlled voice, as soon as he was gone. "Apparently she has confessed."
Damaris started to say something and choked on her words. Immediately Peverell put his hand over hers and held it hard.
Randolph stared uncomprehendingly, his eyes wide.
"No!" Edith protested. "That's - that's impossible! Not Alex!"
Felicia rose to her feet. "There is no purpose in denying it, Edith. Apparently it is so. She has admitted it." She squared her shoulders. "Peverell, we would be obliged if you would take care of the matter. It seems she has taken leave of her senses, and in a fit of madness become homicidal. Perhaps it can be dealt with privately, since she does not contest the issue."
Her voice gained confidence. "She can be put away in a suitable asylum. We shall have Cassian here, naturally, poor child. I shall fetch him myself. I imagine that will have to be done tonight. He cannot remain in that house without family." She reached for the bell, then turned to Hester. "Miss Latterly, you have been privy to our family tragedy. You will surely appreciate that we are no longer in a position to entertain even the closest friends and sympathisers. Thank you for calling. Edith will show you to the door and bid you goodbye."
Hester stood up. "Of course. I am most extremely sorry."
Felicia acknowledged her words with a look but no more. There was nothing to add. All that was possible now was to excuse herself to Randolph, Peverell and Damaris, and leave.
As soon as they were in the hall Edith clasped her arm.
"Dear God, this is terrible! We have to do something!"
Hester stopped and faced her. "What? I think your mother's answer may be the best. If she has lost her mind and become violent - "
"Rubbish!" Edith exploded fiercely. "Alex is not mad. If anyone in the family killed him, it will be their daughter Sabella. She really is ... very strange. After the birth of her child she threatened to take her own life. Oh - there isn't time to tell you now, but believe me there is a long story about Sabella." She was holding Hester so hard there was little choice but to stay. "She hated Thaddeus," Edith went on urgently. "She didn't want to marry; she wanted to become a nun, of all things. But Thaddeus would not hear of it. She hated him for making her marry, and still does. Poor Alex will have confessed to save her. We've got to do something to help. Can't you think of anything?"
"Well . . ." Hester's mind raced. "Well, I do know a private sort of policeman who works for people - but if she has confessed, she will be tried, you know. I know a brilliant lawyer. But Peverell..."
"No," Edith said quickly. "He is a solicitor, not a barrister - he doesn't appear in court. He won't mind, I swear. He would want the best for Alex. Sometimes he appears to do whatever Mama says, but he doesn't really. He just smiles and goes his own way. Please, Hester, if there is anything you can do . . . ?"
"I will," Hester promised, clasping Edith's hand. "I will try!"
"Thank you. Now you must go before anyone else comes out and finds us here - please!"
"Of course. Keep heart."
"I will - and thank you again."
Quickly Hester turned and accepted her cloak from the waiting maid and went to the door, her mind racing, her thoughts in turmoil, and the face of Oliver Rathbone sharp in her mind.
Chapter 2
As soon as Hester returned, Major Tiplady, who had had little to do but stare out of the window, observed from her face that something distressing had happened, and since it would soon be public knowledge in the newspapers, she did not feel she was betraying any trust by telling him. He was very aware that she had experienced something extraordinary, and to keep it secret would close him out to no purpose. It would also make it far harder to explain why she wished for yet further time away from the house.
"Oh dear," he said as soon as she told him. He sat very upright on the chaise longue. "This is quite dreadful! Do you believe that something has turned the poor woman's mind?"
"Which woman?" She tidied away his tea tray, which the maid had not yet collected, setting it on the small table to the side. "The widow or the daughter?"