Her father smiled. “You are a good girl, Winnie, have I not always said so? I am very glad your heart is not broken, but I wish beyond all things that you could find a man you could love who would make you as happy as I am with your mama.”
“I wish that too, Papa, but we cannot all be so fortunate as you and Mama. A good, honourable and respectable man would serve me perfectly well.”
“And rich,” put in Uncle Alfred.
Winnie nodded. “And rich,” she said, laughing. “Definitely rich. Now that I have discovered the pleasure to be had in a fashionable bonnet, I should very much like to continue in the same manner. Are you going to pour me some wine, or must I go thirsty?”
***
Walter lost no time in going to see Aunt Alice. She still kept to her room, but she welcomed him with a smile, one hand held out towards him.
“Walter! How lovely! How was London?”
He took her hand and kissed it lightly. “Oh… very quiet. No one is there at this time of year.”
“But you did not go there for the society. Do you think you might like the work that Alfred is offering?”
“Indeed I do.”
“Then you will go away to live in town,” she said sadly.
“For part of the year, certainly. But what about you — how are you, Aunt? Are you well?”
“As well as I can be. I shall never be entirely well again, not without my Arthur.” Her voice wobbled, but she took a deep breath and went on more strongly, “This captain fellow is no further forwards in finding out who killed him. He is very lax, it seems to me. Weeks and weeks he has been here, he has talked to everyone, sometimes several times, and he has discovered where the axe came from, yet still he has not the least idea. Will you talk to him, Walter? I cannot bear to see him again, but you could do it for me. Push him into a little more exertion, for my sake.”
“I will certainly do so. But why do you hide yourself away like this, Aunt? Why not sit in the drawing room, or out in the garden? Do you not even come down to dinner?”
She shuddered. “And eat at the same table as the man who has failed to find my husband’s murderer? I could not. Every room in this castle reminds me of Arthur, and brings only the most grievous thoughts to my mind. This is the only room he never entered, so here I stay. Like Mama, I am shut into my tower room, and perhaps, like her, I shall leave it only to be buried.”
Walter could not answer such dark thoughts, so he talked instead of London, at least those parts of the visit that he felt able to tell. But Aunt Alice knew him very well.
“There is a great sadness in your voice, Walter. Did something bad happen in town?”
He hesitated only a moment. Aunt Alice had always been a great dispenser of wisdom. “I did something abominable, Aunt,” he said in a low voice, and set about telling her the whole story, holding nothing back. His aunt listened in silence, and even when the torrent of words finally trickled to nothing, she sat thoughtfully.
Eventually, she said, “What are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do?” he said helplessly. “How can I mend something which is irrevocably broken? God knows, I wish I had never interfered, but it is done and cannot be undone. Winnie will never forgive me, and she should not.”
“Oh, Walter! I think you are in love with her.”
“Is that what this is — this pain that never leaves me?”
“Love is pain, yes,” she said softly. “It can also be the greatest joy imaginable. But Walter, answer me this — do you love her enough to give her up to another man?”
“To Lomax? He is an idiot. She deserves better than a muttonhead like that.”
“But if Mr Lomax is the man she wants…? Even if you think she is crazy to want him…?”
Walter let out a long, slow breath. “Yes… I want her to be happy, Aunt Alice. I want her to have whatever she desires — a husband, her own establishment, children. Shedeservesthatand if Lomax can give her those things… yes. But he is gone, and—”
“And he may never return, that is true. Perhaps his trust in her goodness was too fragile to be rebuilt. But even without considering Winnie’s future, the fact is that you told himsomething that was untrue. You believed the rumours that Mr Seymour put out, but since it now appears there was not a word of truth in them, you are bound in honour, I believe, to inform Mr Lomax of that.”
“He may not believe me… but you are right, Aunt, as usual. He should be told the truth. What he chooses to do then is entirely a matter for him to decide.”
“And you may judge him by his actions, Walter. A man’s honour is seen in his behaviour towards a lady. However badly he behaves in other areas of his life, if he deals righteously by the female sex, I shall account him an honourable man.”
23: A Clever Man
