And the embarrassment deepened. He felt as he'd felt that evening in London when the implication had been made that Pumps had been dropping anvil-shaped hints for hours and Sharpe had been steadfastly oblivious to all of them. Half-guilty and half-concerned that he was ruined in the implication. Hogan had casually asked Sharpe whether he realized Pumps was a molly, and of course he had. Sharpe had insisted that he liked the man regardless, for he was not stuck up. Hogan had cheerily told him that there was nothing in all the world that Lord Pumphrey wanted more than to be stuck up with him. And Richard had shrunk back into sullen silence.

For his part, he no longer liked Lord Pumphrey -- but that had little to do with the man's sticking preferences and everything to do with a grievous murder. Sharpe swallowed the pain.

"I hadn't a clue," he ventured carefully -- hoping his genuine ignorance might spare him the curious cast of this gossip.