William Monk 06 - Cain His Brother

now. There were tiny lines in the skin around her mouth and eyes, visible even in the gaslight. Angus had been gone fifteen days. She was alsousing at least half her time nursing Enid Ravensbrook. No wonder she was tired and riven with fear.
    “Have you someone in mind you can appoint to manage the business in Mr. Stonefield’s absence?” he asked. It was hardly relevant to him, and yet he found himself waiting for the answer, willing that she had not. It seemed so coldly practical for a woman not yet surely a widow.
    “I thought Mr. Niven,” she answered frankly. “In spite of the error of judgment which brought him to his present state, he is of absolute honesty, and of unusual skill and knowledge in the business. I think he would not be so rash or so lenient in another’s cause. Mr. Arbuthnot has always thought well of him, and might not be averse to continuing with us if it was in Mr. Niven’s service. Mr. Niven is also very agreeable, and I should not mind thinking of him in Angus’s place, since there needs must be someone. He has no family of his own, and would not be seeking to put me, or my sons, from their place.”
    It should have made no difference whatever, and yet he found himself chilled by the readiness of her reply.
    “I had not realized you knew him personally,” he said.
    “Of course. He and Angus had a most cordial relationship. He has dined with us on many occasions. He is one of the few people we entertain in our home.” The shadow crossed her features again. “But naturally I cannot approach him yet. It would be quite improper until I have some proof of Angus’s fate that will satisfy the law.” She sat very straight and sighed, as if controlling herself with an effort.
    He wondered exactly what emotion it was that lay so powerfully just beneath the surface of her composure. There was a strength in her at odds with her gentle, very womanly appearance, the aura of obedient wife and devoted mother, some depth to her far out of the ordinary. It troubled him, because he had liked what he had first believed of her; even her quiet strength was appealing. He did not want to think of it as ruthlessness.
    “I will do all I can, Mrs. Stonefield,” he promised, histone of voice unwittingly putting some distance between them. “As you suggest, I shall concentrate my efforts upon satisfying the authorities that your husband is dead, and leave the manner of his death for others to worry about. In the meantime, since it may not be an easy task, or a quick one, I advise you to consider Lord Ravensbrook’s offer of a home for yourself and your family, even if it is upon temporary terms.”
    She sensed his thoughts and stood up gracefully, gathering her cape around her with a quick movement, but her face registered distaste and a hardening stubbornness of resistance.
    “It will be a last resort, Mr. Monk, and I am not yet come to that pass. I think I shall call upon Mr. Niven, and test his feelings in the matter, before I return to Lady Ravensbrook. Good day to you.”
    The next few hours passed with agonizing slowness for Hester. She sat by Enid’s bedside watching her haggard face, which was white, sweat-soaked, with two blotches of hectic color on the cheekbones. Her hair was tangled, her body tensed, turning and shivering with pain, too sore to touch. Hester could do little but keep patting her softly with cool cloths, but still her fever rose. She was delirious, seldom wholly aware of where she was.
    Genevieve returned some time in the evening and looked in for a few moments. She was not due to take her tum until morning, when Hester would go to the dressing room for a few hours’ sleep.
    They exchanged glances. Genevieve was flushed. Hester presumed it to be from the chill outside, until she spoke.
    “I have just been to see Mr. Monk. I am afraid he does not understand my urgency to know of Angus’s fate.” She stopped just inside the door, her voice low in case she should disturb Enid. “Sometimes I think the suspense is more than I can bear. Then I went to call upon Mr. Niven … Titus Niven … he used to prosper in the same business as my husband, until very lately. He was also a friend.”
    Even though she had spoken so softly, Enid started and tried to sit up. Quickly Hester eased her down again, smoothing her hair off her brow and speaking softly to her, although she was uncertain if Enid heard her or not.
    Genevieve looked at Hester, her face tight with fear. The