He thought of Catherine lying on the floor, and the ornaments in the room. Had she chosen them, put them there because they pleased her, or reminded her of someone she cared for?
“You have not told me what it is you wish of me, Mrs. Hythe,” he said, bringing the conversation back to the practical.
“Every detail he finds makes it clearer that Catherine was fond of my husband,” she answered. “And that they liked and trusted each other, and met … often.” She swallowed with a tightening of her throat that looked painful. “He believes that she let her attacker in herself, and that could only be because she knew him—”
“Yes,” he cut in. “There was no break-in.”
She lowered her eyes. “I know that too. But I also know that my husband is a good man—not perfect, of course, but decent and kind. He felt sorry for her and he liked her, no more than that.” She looked up at Narraway earnestly. “If they were having an affair, perhaps I would have hated her for it and—if I were crazy enough—wished her harm. But I could not have raped her. And my husband didn’t either.”
She gave a little shiver. “On the other hand, her husband could have, but that doesn’t work either, does it, as he was at a party while she was being attacked. Don’t mistake me; I care very much that you catch whoever did this. I think any woman would. It was a terrible way to die.” She took a deep breath and continued. “But in spite of his kindness to her, the small gifts he gave her, the times they met at one exhibition or another, my husband was not her lover. And, as I’ve said, even if he had been, he could not have committed such an atrocious crime against her.”
Narraway was brutal, to get it over with: “And if he found her fascinating, flattering to his vanity, a beautiful older woman with sophistication and intelligence, and she suddenly rebuffed him?” he asked. “How would he react to that? Are you certain that it would not be with anger?”
Color burned up her face, but she did not look away from his gaze. “You don’t know Alban, or you wouldn’t ask that. I’m aware you think I am being idealistic and naïve. I’m not. He has his faults, as do I, but losing his temper is not one of them. Sometimes I wish he would. For some time, I am ashamed to say, I thought him something of a coward because he was so gentle.” She winced. “Now I risk seeing him hanged for a crime he could never even imagine committing. I think perhaps he even helped her with something that troubled her, although I don’t know what. He never mentioned it to me. Don’t let him be destroyed for that.”
Narraway stared at her, trying to assess if she truly believed what she said, or if, even more than to convince him, she was trying to convince herself.
“Are you positive you have no idea what it was?” he urged. This was a new thought and perhaps worth pursuing.
She looked down at her hands for a moment, weighing her answer before she spoke.
“Alban is a banker. I know he is young yet, but he knows a great deal about business, especially investment. I … well, I think it may have something to do with that, investments, in Africa, the Boers, and Leander Jameson. I know Alban read a lot about the raid, and the difference it might make to people if Dr. Jameson is found guilty. He listened to Mr. Churchill, and his talk of the possibility of war.”
Narraway drew in his breath to interrupt her. Surely she was being fanciful, desperate to say or do anything to defend her husband, and was tossing out any idea she could think of, even if it was ridiculous? But then, maybe it wasn’t ridiculous. Quixwood was a man involved in major finances. He might have made an investment that his wife feared was risky, even potentially ruinous. Was it conceivable that she had sought advice behind his back, from an independent source?
And she might have feared Quixwood would see that as a betrayal, a complete failure of loyalty to him, a lack of belief in his judgment.
It sounded desperately unlikely that a woman such as Catherine—beautiful, dependent, without any knowledge of international affairs, let alone of finances—would have undertaken to learn such things, and from a young man