William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf

apparently extravagant with dress, but his own immaculate taste knew a good gown when he saw one, and hers was certainly not. The fabric was excellent and there was carefully stitched jet beadwork on the bodice, but the skirt was poorly proportioned. The lowest tier was too short, which on a small woman was all the more unfortunate. The sleeves seemed to have been lifted at the shoulder, and caused something of a pleat where there should not have been one.
    But none of these things were of any importance. They showed individuality and made her seem curiously vulnerable, a quality which always appealed to him.
    He accepted the wine offered, and stood a little closer to the fire.
    “Have you occupied your time successfully?” Quinlan inquired, looking at him over the top of his own glass. It was impossible to tell if his question was ironic or not.
    Monk could think of nothing to reply that would elicit a useful response. He was beginning to feel desperate. Time was running short and so far he had heard nothing at all of use to Hester. How much had he to lose by more dangerous tactics?
    “I know a great deal more about your family,” he said with a smile of amusement rather than warmth. “Some of it facts, some opinion, much of it of interest one way or another.” That was a lie, but he could not afford the truth.
    “About us?” Baird said quickly. “I thought you were investigating Miss Latterly?”
    “I’m investigating the entire circumstance. But certainly, if you recall, I said that I knew a great deal more, not that I had pursued the knowledge as my primary goal.”
    “The difference seems academic.” Quinlan for oncesided with Baird. “And what is interesting about it? Did they tell you I married the beautiful Eilish Farraline almost out of the arms of her previous suitor? A young man of good breeding and no money, of whom her family disapproved.”
    Baird’s face darkened, but he bit his tongue rather than respond.
    Eilish looked momentarily unhappy, glanced at Baird, but he was looking away from her, then at Quinlan with dislike.
    “How fortunate that they approved of you,” Monk said expressionlessly. “Was that personal charm, an influential family, or merely wealth?”
    Oonagh drew her breath in sharply, but there was amusement glittering in her eyes, and an appreciation of Monk which he could not fail to see was growing increasingly personal. He felt an acute satisfaction in it; in fact, were he honest he would have acknowledged it as pleasure.
    “You would have to have asked Mother-in-law,” Deirdra said at last. “I imagine she was the person whose approval mattered. Of course in many ways Alastair … but he would be guided in such things. I don’t know why he did not care for the other young man. He seemed perfectly agreeable to me.”
    “ ‘Perfectly agreeable’ is neither here nor there,” Kenneth said with a touch of bitterness. “Not even money is everything, unless it is thousands. It is all respectability—isn’t it, Oonagh?”
    Oonagh looked at him with patience and acute perception.
    “Well, it certainly isn’t beauty, wit or the ability to enjoy yourself—still less to give enjoyment to others, my dear. Women like that have their place, but it is not at the altar.”
    “For heaven’s sake, please don’t tell us where it is,” Quinlan said quickly, looking at Kenneth. “The answer is only too obvious.”
    “Well, I am still none the wiser,” Baird said, staring at Quinlan. “You have no fortune, your family has never beenmentioned, and personal charm is not even worth considering.”
    Oonagh looked at him with an unreadable expression. “We Farralines do not need money or family allegiances. We marry where we wish to. Quinlan has his qualities, and as long as they please Eilish, and we gave our approval, that is all that matters.” She smiled at Eilish. “Isn’t it, dear?”
    Eilish hesitated; a curious play of emotions fought in her expression, then finally it softened with something like apology and she smiled back. “Yes, of course it is. I loathed you at the time for agreeing with Mother. In fact, I thought you were largely to blame. But now I can see I would never have been happy with Robert Crawford.” She glanced at Baird, and away again. “He was certainly not the right person for me.”
    A flush of color spread up Baird’s cheeks, and he looked away.
    “Romantic love,” Hector said, more to himself than apparently to anyone else.