it," he said with a slow smile. "In fact, it is one of their greatest pleasures, particularly if they can feel superior at the time."
She was taken aback. It was not the sort of thing one acknowledged. "Er-do you think so?"
He had nearly spoiled his own case. "Some people," he said, knocking the head off a long stalk of wheat that had grown across the path. "But I regret I have to ask you to tell me something more of Prudence Barrymore, even if it is distasteful to you, because I do not know who else to ask, who will be frank. Eulogies are no help to me."
This time she kept her eyes straight ahead. They were almost to the farm gate and he opened it for her, waited while the horse followed her through, then went through himself and closed it carefully. An elderly man in a faded smock and trousers tied around the ankles with string smiled shyly, then took the animal. Nanette thanked him and led Monk across the yard toward the kitchen garden, and he opened the door of the farmhouse. It was not into the kitchen as he had expected, but a side entrance to a wide hallway.
"May I offer you some refreshment, Mr. Monk?" Nanette said with a smile. She was of more than average height and slender, a tiny waist and slight bosom. She moved with skill to maneuver the skirts of her riding habit so they seemed part of her and not an encumbrance, as they were to some women.
"Thank you," he accepted. He did not know if he could learn anything useful from her, but he might not have another opportunity. He should use this one.
She laid her hat and crop on the hall table, then rang for a maid, requested tea, and conducted him to a pretty sitting room full of flowered chintz. They made trivial conversation till the tea was brought and they were alone again and could remain uninterrupted.
"You wish to know about poor Prudence," she said immediately, passing him his cup.
"If you please." He accepted it.
She met his eyes. "Please understand that I am speaking so frankly only because I am aware that kindness is of no use in finding out who killed her, poor soul."
"I have asked you to be frank, Miss Cuthbertson," he encouraged her.
She settled back in her chair and began to speak, her gaze unflinching.
"I have known Prudence since we were both girls. She always had a curiosity much greater than most people's, and a dedication to learn all she could. Her mother, who is a dear creature, most sensible, tried to dissuade her, but to no avail. Have you met her sister, Faith?"
"No."
"A very nice person," she said with approval. "She married and went to live in York. But Prudence was always her father's favorite, and I regret the necessity to say so, but I think he indulged her when it might have been in her greater interest to have exercised a little more discipline." She shrugged, looking at Monk with a smile. "Anyway, the result was that when we here in England began to learn a little of how serious the war in the Crimea had become, Prudence decided to go out there and nurse our soldiers, and nothing on earth would deter her."
Monk forbore from interruption with difficulty. He wanted to tell this equally determined, rather complacent, pretty woman who was discreetly flirting with him something of the horror of the battlefield and the hospital as he had learned it from Hester. He forced himself to keep silent, merely looking at her to continue.
She did not need prompting.
"Of course we all assumed that when she came home she would have had enough of it," she said quickly. "She had served her country and we were all proud of her. But not at all. She then insisted on continuing with nursing and took up a post in the hospital in London." She was watching Monk's face closely, all the time biting her lip as if uncertain what to say, although he knew from the strength in her voice that that was anything but the case. "She became very-very forceful," she continued. "Very outspoken in her opinions and extremely critical of the medical authorities. I am afraid she had ambitions that were totally impossible and quite unsuitable anyway, and she was bitter about it." She searched Monk's eyes, trying to judge his thoughts. "I can only assume that some of her experiences