Even in his fury, some analytical part of Thomas searched fruitlessly for a reason for the vicious betrayal, the depraved impulse that had driven Seward to send Cat to his room. This went beyond a mere difference in ideologies; this was hatred, vindictive and cruel. Thomas was even angrier with himself. He had been grossly negligent. He should have recognized hatred so intense, even had Seward tried to mask it. Thomas’s life had so often depended on his ability to clearly sense the motives and impulses that drove other men. But he hadn’t read Seward, not at all. The list of “shoulds” unrolled in a damning litany in his mind. He “should” have recognized Seward’s hatred and thus “should” have been prepared for his betrayal. He “should not” have trusted Seward to keep Cat at the Pavilion. He “should” have realized that his suite’s open door would have acted as a challenge—perhaps even as titillation—to a woman like Daphne.
