William Monk 04 - A Sudden Fearful Death

Julia who it was. Perhaps she had encouraged him to begin with, and then become frightened, and since she was ashamed, had claimed it was a stranger, the only answer that would be morally acceptable. No one would believe she would yield to a complete stranger or give him the slightest encouragement.
    It was after three when he returned to Hastings Street and again sought admittance. He found Julia in the withdrawing room with Marianne and Audley, who had apparently come home early yet again.
    “Mr. Monk?” he said with quite open surprise. “I had not realized cousin Albert had spoken of us so exceedingly well!”
    “Audley!” Julia rose to her feet, her cheeks hot pink. “Please come in, Mr. Monk. I am sure my husband did not mean to make you feel less than welcome.” Her eyes searched Monk’s face with an anxiety she could not conceal,but she studiously avoided looking at Marianne. “It is a little early for tea, but may we offer you some cold lemonade? It is really a very hot day.”
    “Thank you.” Monk accepted both because he was thirsty and because he wished to observe them all a little more closely, especially the two women. How deep was the trust between them, and how much was Julia really misled? Did she suspect her sister of an unwise dalliance? Was it all perhaps to protect her from Audley’s moral outrage if he thought she were less than a victim? “That is very kind of you,” he added, sitting in the chair she indicated.
    She rang the bell and dispatched the maid to fetch the refreshments.
    Monk felt he owed Julia some explanation for Audley, and racked his brain to think of an acceptable lie. To say he had left something behind would be too transparent. Audley would be suspicious immediately, so would Monk in his place. Dare he suggest an errand? Would Julia be quick enough?
    But she preempted him.
    “I am afraid I have not got it ready yet,” she said, swallowing hard.
    “What ready?” Audley asked, frowning at her.
    She turned to him with a guileless smile. “Mr. Monk said he would be kind enough to take a small parcel back to cousin Albert for me, but I have been remiss and it is not yet ready.”
    “What are you sending to Albert?” Audley demanded, frowning. “I didn’t know you were so fond of him. You did not give me that impression.”
    “I suppose I am not, really.” She was elaborately casual, but Monk saw that her hands were clenched tight. “It is a relationship I feel I should keep. After all, he is family,” She forced a smile. “I thought a small gift would be a good beginning. Besides, he has several family records I should be most obliged to share.”
    “You have not mentioned this before,” he argued. “What records?”
    “Of our grandparents,” Marianne put in quickly, her voice sharp. “They are his also, and since he is older than we, he has memories which are far more vivid. I should like to know more. After all, I never knew my mother. Julia was kind enough to suggest cousin Albert might help.”
    Audley drew breath to say something further, then changed his mind. For a young woman utterly dependent upon him, Marianne had a forthright manner and appeared to have little awe of him. Or perhaps she was sufficiently devoted to Julia that she would have charged to her defense regardless, and only thought of her own peril afterwards.
    “Very civil of you.” Audley disregarded her and nodded to Monk. “Are you from Halifax also?”
    “No, Northumberland,” Monk replied. “But I shall pass through on my way north.” He was getting deeper and deeper in the lie. He would have to post the parcel and hope cousin Albert replied with the necessary information. Presumably if he did not, they would use the excuse that he was obdurate.
    “Indeed.” Audley apparently had no further interest, and they were spared the necessity of small talk by the arrival of the maid to announce that Mrs. Hylton had called and wish to see Mrs. Penrose.
    She was shown in and arrived looking flustered and full of curiosity. Both Monk and Audley rose to greet her, but before they could speak she rushed into words, turning from one to another of them.
    “Oh, Mr. Monk! I am so glad you have not yet left. My dear Mrs. Penrose, how very pleasant to see you. Miss Gillespie. I am so sorry about your experience, but I am quite sure it will prove to have been no more than a stray cat or something of the sort. Mr. Penrose. How are you?”
    “In good health, thank you, Mrs.