"I am surprised you call it love," Boothroyd said with some astringence. "Although perhaps I should not be."

"Love is a euphemism for a lot of relationships," Rathbone snapped back, feeling his cheeks burn as he understood what Boothroyd meant, but the rage in him refused to correct it, dear as he knew it might cost him.

"The Bible says it is a sin," Boothroyd pointed out. "I think all Christian men agree."

"So is lusting after a woman in your heart," Rathbone pointed out. "Christ was rather specific about that. Most of us are guilty of it nevertheless. I am, and will probably continue to be. Would you legislate against it?"

"Don't be absurd!"

"Precisely," Rathbone agreed between clenched teeth, his voice crystalline with precision. "There are a great many things which are better left to God to judge, and I think whatever Melville or Wolff does in private is among them."

"You are in a minority!" Boothroyd replied sharply, drinking the whiskey he had originally brought for Rathbone and rising to his feet.

"That does not make me wrong," Rathbone answered him.

"It will make you damned well misunderstood!" Boothroyd warned.

"So I see." Rathbone arched his brows sarcastically and remained sitting. "But I do not find that an adequate reason to change."

"On your own head be it!" Boothroyd turned and walked away, leaving Rathbone furious, embarrassed and frightened, but absolutely determined not to change.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

While Rathbone was struggling so fruitlessly in court, knowing he could only lose, Monk was already planning to pursue every avenue into the possible weaknesses in any member of the Lambert family. Zillah herself was the one whose flaws would have most relevance to the issue, so it was with her he began. Not that he expected to succeed. She was almost certainly exactly what she appeared to be, and regrettably, Killian Melville was also what he appeared to be. The whole issue was a tragedy which, with even ordinary common sense, need not have happened.

He began to walk restlessly back and forth across the room.

Zillah Lambert was less than half his age, a child of financial privilege and complete innocence as to the ways of the world. As far as he knew, this was the first misfortune ever to strike her. How could he begin to understand her life?

He would have welcomed Hester's advice, and perhaps even more, Callandra's. But Callandra was still in Scotland and it was too soon to call on Hester again, although she remained curiously sharp in his mind.