There were two things.
She could walk into the study here and now and confront Geoffrey and the Delauny woman.
She could go quietly away and tell Allegra what she had overheard.
She couldn’t tell Allegra. The minute she thought of herself doing so it became a flat impossibility. Neither she nor anyone else could say what effect that kind of shock might have upon the balance of a wavering mind. She knew with a most positive certainty that nothing would induce her to risk it.
If she were to walk into the study it would force the situation with a vengeance. Did she want to force it? She thought she did. She thought whatever else happened, Jacqueline Delauny must go.
All at once her mind felt clear. It was foreign to her nature to allow a decision to remain in the balance. One way or the other the scales must be tipped, and once this happened, she would never look back. She came out into the passage, to see that the door on the left was opening. She was able to retreat some little way and be walking back again by the time that Jacqueline Delauny emerged, eyes shining, cheeks glowing, and with some slight disorder of the usually perfect setting of her hair. At the sight of Ione she did not exactly check, but there was a change-an attempt at the usual composed manner-which did not quite come off.
“Why-Miss Muir! Is Mrs. Trent back too? I thought we should have heard your taxi-”
“We came by bus.”
“Oh-I hope Mrs. Trent is not too tired-”
“No, she seems quite fresh. My brother-in-law is in the study, is he not? I want to speak to him.” (“And if she likes to go next door and listen she can, and much good may it do her!”)
With this thought flaring in her mind, Ione went into the study and shut the door behind her.
Geoffrey was standing by the hearth gazing moodily down at the sunken fire. He looked up with a hint of impatience which changed to rather a half-hearted smile.
“I didn’t hear you come.”
“No-we took the bus.”
“Allegra all right?”
“Oh, quite.”
Her tone roused his attention. He threw her an anxious glance.
“Ione-is anything the matter?”
“A good deal, I think.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am going to tell you.”
She gave him the incident on the island at Wraydon in as few words as possible.
“There was a violent push-it came from behind us. Allegra couldn’t keep her hold on my arm-she went tottering out into the road. Nothing could have stopped her falling under one of those motor-buses if a man in the crowd hadn’t caught her arm with the crook of his stick and jerked her back.”
Nobody could have looked more horrified.
“Ione-you don’t mean it! How horrible! Is she hurt? You shouldn’t have left her! I must go to her at once!” He came across the room almost as if he could not see his way.
Ione went back against the door and stood there. She said briskly,
“She isn’t hurt, and she isn’t suffering from shock. I took her to the George, where we had lunch, and afterwards she went to sleep on a very comfortable sofa.”
“Who could possibly have pushed her?” said Geoffrey Trent in a bewildered voice.
“I wonder. Anyhow I do not think the push was meant for Allegra. I think it was meant for me. I had just moved about six inches to the right so that I could take hold of the foot of one of those awful statues-there were too many people on the island, and I was afraid we might be crowded off it. If I hadn’t moved just then, that push would have taken me right in the middle of the back.”
“But who-but why? You can’t mean you think-there was anything deliberate!”
Ione said,
“I am not really thinking about it at present, Geoffrey. There are other things-”
“What do you mean?” Tone and expression held a mixture of alarm and surprise.
She dropped her voice.
“Did you know that there was a shaft in the wall between this room and the one next door?”
“A shaft?”
She walked towards the fireplace.
“This end of it would be covered by one of those latticework panels… Yes, I should say it would be this one. That would account for the voices being so plain. The other end has a solid oak door. It must have been left ajar by mistake, and just now as I was passing I heard someone calling out. There wasn’t anyone in the room, but the panel was open, and I could hear Miss Delauny addressing you as ‘Geoffrey, my darling.’ ”
He turned abruptly and walked to the window. The failing light was thick and cold. In the study it was already dusk, Ione went over to the door and switched on the overhead light. As if it startled him, he said,
“You listened?”
“I did. I hope you don’t expect me to apologize?”
“I don’t expect-” He flung round suddenly. “Ione, for God’s sake let me explain!”
“I heard everything she said to you, and everything you said to her. I don’t know that there is anything very much left to explain.”
“But there is!”
“Then I will listen.”
He began to walk up and down in the room.
“If you heard what she said you must have realized that she was in a very emotional state.”
“Oh, yes, I realized that.”
“She wasn’t herself at all-you must have seen that. In the ordinary way she is one of the most sensible and controlled people I know.”
“Do you want me to say that she was being sensible and controlled just now?”
“No-of course not. She had completely lost her head. You have got to remember that Margot’s death was the most frightful shock to her. She had known her since she was a child. She was, as a matter of fact, my cousin’s secretary, which is how I first came across her. When my cousin died and the business went down in the war, she was at a loose end, and when she offered to take charge of Margot I was more than grateful. The old nurse was retiring, and I didn’t know what to do-”
He came to a standstill. Ione wondered whether he thought he had really explained anything.
Seeing that she continued to wait in an expectant manner, he flushed and went on.
“We were thrown a great deal together, I suppose we got fond of each other. It didn’t last very long. I had to go out to the Middle East on business, and when I came back I think we both took it for granted that the affair was over. I ought never to have begun it. For one thing, Margot might have noticed.” His colour deepened considerably. “I couldn’t take the risk of that. You know, in some ways she was very quick. She seemed to have a sort of instinct-” There was another pause.
Ione said, “Yes?”
“Well, then I met Allegra.”
“Yes?”
“I suppose you heard what Jacqueline said about the money?”
“I heard everything.”
And it wasn’t going to be easy to explain some of it away. It wasn’t being easy. His hands were clenched as he said,
“Ione, I swear it wasn’t just the money-it wasn’t, really! You know how she was before all this drug business started-little and appealing and-sweet. It got me. But it’s true that I couldn’t have afforded to marry her if there hadn’t been some money. When I went out to the Middle East I found my cousin’s affairs in the most frightful mess. Well, I had put quite a lot of money into them. It was a question of what could be saved from the wreck. I couldn’t have asked any girl to marry me who wasn’t financially secure. That is how it was.”
Ione looked him straight in the face.
“You married Allegra, and brought your mistress to live under the same roof.”
He threw up his head.
“You have no right to say that! She didn’t come here as my mistress-such a thought never entered either of our heads! She came here as Margot’s governess, and to help me with Allegra!”
What fools men were! “It never entered either of our heads!” Did he really believe that! He looked and sounded as if he did. Could he have lived in the house with Jacqueline Delauny for two years and not been aware that she had a devouring passion for him? It had rung in every tone of her voice in the scene which Ione had overheard. But that wasn’t all. Looking back, she knew that she had rather taken it for granted that Delauny had what schoolgirls call a crush on Geoffrey. She had supposed such things would be apt to happen when a man was as “sinfully good-looking as Geoffrey Trent”-Fenella’s expression came back to her. She had been a little amused, a little contemptuous, but somehow it had never occurred to her to think that the feeling might be reciprocal.