William Monk 08 - The Silent Cry

than he would have done without Rhys’s example and encouragement.”
    Hester was amazed. The arrogance in Duke Kynaston had been so apparent, as had the natural assumption of leadership, that it was inconceivable to her that Rhys had influenced him and not the other way around. But then she had not known Rhys before the incident. She hardly knew Duke at present. All she had seen of him was a young man’s swagger and bravado, and a considerable rudeness to one he felt his social and intellectual inferior.
    She looked at Sylvestra to try to judge the surprise in her face.
    “Joel Kynaston is a very strict man,” Sylvestra said thoughtfully, staring not at Rathbone but down at her plate. “He believes in great self-discipline, especially among the young. Itis the foundation of strong character. It is what courage and honor are built upon, and without it all else may fail, eventually.” Her voice was careful, full of long-held, familiar conviction. “I have heard him say so many times. He is much admired for it. It may appear like hardness to others, but in his position, if he were to make exceptions, be seen to be lenient towards one, it would invalidate the principles for which he stands.” Her face was intent, but there was a slight frown between her brows, as if she were concentrating on what she was saying and it flowed from memory rather than understanding.
    “And he felt Rhys set a poor example?” Rathbone said gently. “Was he not a good student?”
    Sylvestra looked surprised. “Yes, he was excellent. But it was not only in academic studies Joel felt passionately—above all, it was moral worth. His school has a very high reputation, and it is largely due to his own example.” She looked down at her hands. “Sometimes I think he expected too much of boys, forgetting they cannot have the strength of character one would hope of men. He did not understand the need of youth to discover boundaries for itself. Rhys was … an explorer … of thought, I mean. At least …” She gave up suddenly, her lip trembling. “I am not sure what I do mean.” She swallowed and regained control with an intense effort. “I am sorry. I know my husband had a deep respect for Joel Kynaston. He believed him a most remarkable man.” She hurried on, as if she feared interruption. “I should not be surprised that Joel feels his dead? profoundly and cannot forgive anyone who was involved in causing it. I am sorry, Sir Oliver, but you will have to look elsewhere for anyone to help us.”
    Before Rathbone could answer her, the door opened and Corriden Wade came in. He looked deeply concerned, his face was gaunt as if he had slept little, and there was a tension in him which was apparent even before he spoke. He looked at Rathbone with surprise and some anxiety.
    Sylvestra stood up immediately and went over to Wade, relief and expectation in her eyes.
    “Corriden, this is Sir Oliver Rathbone, whom I have engaged to defend Rhys. We are searching for anything whateverwhich may help. He has spoken to Joel, but it seems Joel feels Rhys was an unfortunate influence upon Arthur and Duke, and being the man he is, he cannot speak anything but the truth. I suppose I should admire him for that, and if it were of anyone else, I should be the first to applaud him.” She bit her lip. “Which proves what a hypocrite I am, because I cannot. I wish desperately that he could bend a little, I suppose be less honorable. Isn’t that a dreadful thing to say? I never thought I would hear myself say such a thing. You will be ashamed of me.”
    Wade put his arm around her.
    “Never, my dear. It is only human to wish to protect those one loves, especially when there is no one else to do so. You are his mother. I should expect no less of you.” He glanced at Rathbone, looking past Sylvestra. “How do you do, sir. I am Corriden Wade, physician to the family, and at present Rhys is in my care for his physical needs.” He nodded towards Hester. “And Miss Latterly’s care, of course. She has done excellently well for him.”
    Rathbone had risen when Sylvestra did; now he came forward and bowed in acknowledgment of Wade’s introduction.
    “How do you do, Dr. Wade. I am very pleased you have come. We shall need your medical assistance when the time comes. I believe you have known Rhys a long time?”
    “Since he was a small child,” Wade answered. He looked worried, as if he feared what Rathbone might ask him. “I wish, more