"No! Of course not. If I knew I would tell you!”
He nodded. "Then if we are to help Rhys, we are going to have to know more than we do now. Since he cannot tell us, and I imagine Mrs. Duff either cannot or will not, we shall have to employ some other means." A flicker of amusement touched his lips. "I know of none better than Monk, if he will consent to it, and Mrs. Duff is prepared to agree.”
"Surely she cannot refuse?" Hester said, fearing as she spoke that Sylvestra might very well. "I mean… unless… without suggesting she fears there is something even worse to conceal?”
"I shall frame it so she will find it extremely difficult to refuse,” he promised. "I should also like to speak with Arthur and Duke Kynaston. What can you tell me about them?”
"I find it hard to believe Arthur is the chief protagonist in this,” she said sincerely. "He has honesty in him, an openness I could not but like. His elder brother Marmaduke is a different matter." She bit her lip. "I should find it far easier to imagine he reacted with violence if challenged or criticised, and certainly if he felt himself in any danger. His words are quick enough to attempt to hurt." Honesty compelled her to go on. "But he has been here to visit Rhys, and he certainly was not involved in a fight of anything like the proportions that killed Leighton Duff and left Rhys like this. I wish I could say that he was!”
Rathbone smiled. "I can see that, my dear, and hear it in your voice.
Nevertheless, I shall visit them. I must begin somewhere, apart from engaging Monk. Perhaps we had better go and set Mrs. Duffs mind at ease that at least we shall begin, and give the battle all we have.”
Rathbone did as he had said, and asked Sylvestra's permission to employ someone to learn more of the events, with the view to helping Rhys, not simply finding material proof as the police had done. He phrased his request in such a way she could scarcely refuse him without appearing to wish to abandon Rhys, and to have something of her own to conceal.
He also asked her for the address of the Kynaston family, and she explained that Joel Kynaston had known Rhys since childhood, and she was certain he would offer any assistance within his power.
After Rathbone had left she turned to Hester, her face pale and tense.
"Is there really anything he can do, Miss Latterly? Or are we simply fighting a battle we must lose, because to do less would be cowardly, and a betrayal of courage and the sense of honour we admire? Please answer me honestly. I would rather have truth now. The time for reassuring lies, however well meant, is past. I need to know the truth in order to make the decisions I must.”
"I don't know," Hester said honestly. "We can none of us know until the case is heard, and concluded. I have seen many trials, several of which have ended far from the way we had expected and believed. Never give up until there is nothing else left to try and it is all over. We are very far from that point now. Believe me, if anyone can mitigate even the worst circumstances, it is Sir Oliver.”
Sylvestra's face softened in a smile, sadness touching her eyes.
"You are very fond of him, aren't you." It was barely a question.
Hester felt the heat in her face.
"Yes… yes, I have a high regard for him." The words sounded stilted and absurd, so very half-hearted, and Rathbone deserved better than that. But the shadow of Monk was too sharp in her mind to allow Sylvestra to misunderstand, as she seemed willing to do. It was not difficult to comprehend. It was one sweet and gentle thing, one thing which led on into the future, in a world which for Sylvestra was full of darkness and violence and the ending of all the peace and hope she knew.
"I…" Hester started again. "I do have a great… regard for him.”
Sylvestra was too sensitive to probe any further, and Hester excused herself, saying she must go up and see how Rhys was.
She found him lying exactly as she had left him, staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide open. She sat down on the bed.
"We won't give up," she said quietly.
He looked at her, searching her face, then suddenly anger twisted his features and he swung his head away.
She thought of getting up and leaving. Perhaps he would rather be alone. Then she looked at him more closely and saw the despair beneath the anger, and could not leave. She simply sat and waited, silent and helpless. At least he knew she cared enough to remain.
It was the middle of the evening when Rathbone returned. He was shown into the dining room where Hesterand Sylvestra were picking at dinner, pushing it around the plate in an attempt to eat sufficient not to offend the cook.
Rathbone came in looking grave, and immediately both of them stopped.
"Good evening, Sir Oliver," Sylvestra said huskily. "Have you…
learned something? May I offer you something to eat? If you would like to dine… I…" Her voice trailed off and she stared up at him, too frightened of what he was going to say to continue.
He sat down but declined to eat. "No, I have not learned anything new, Mrs. Duff. I have been to speak to Mr. Kynaston, in the hope that he might shed some light on what has happened. He has known your family for twenty-five years, I believe. I also intend to meet his sons, who were with Rhys in St. Giles. I wanted to form some opinion as to whether we should call them to testify. I imagine the prosecution may do that anyway.”
Sylvestra swallowed and seemed almost to choke.
"You speak in the past, Sir Oliver, as if it were no longer true. Do you mean that Joel Kynaston is so… so repelled by what Rhys has done that he will not… that what he says will… will hurt Rhys?”
"It is not favourable, Mrs. Duff," Rathbone said unhappily. "I tell you because I wonder if there is some reason you are aware of why Mr.
Kynaston may have such a view. He expressed the opinion that Rhys has been a poor influence upon his sons, especially the elder, Marmaduke, whom he feels has led a more," he hesitated, searching for the right word,"… libertine life than he would have done without Rhys's example and encouragement.”
Hester was amazed. The arrogance in Duke Kynaston had been so apparent, 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 now. 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. It is the foundation of strong character. It is what courage and honour 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 a man. 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 death 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.”