The King's Evil

At intervals throughout the night, Christopher came awake with a smile as he realised that Penelope Northcott was sleeping only yards away from him. While he basked in his good fortune, he was also troubled by anxieties about her, fearing the consequences she might have to face. George Strype would be angry enough when he learned that she went to London without even telling him. If her fiancée discovered that she had spent the night in a house in Fetter Lane, he would be outraged. Christopher could imagine the kind of recriminations which would ensue. That she should take such risks argued daring on her behalf and, he hoped, hinted at slight affection towards him. In the privacy of his bedchamber, he was ready to acknowledge far more than slight affection on his side.

He rose at dawn and, by the light of a candle, read the letters which she had given him. They disclosed a relationship which had being going on for the best part of a year. Sir Ambrose Northcott had not stinted his mistress. Each time she wrote, she thanked him for some lavish gift and she was flattered when he changed the name of his ship to Marie Louise. The constant theme of the letters was the desire to spend more time with her lover and she looked forward to the moment when they could move into the new London residence together.

Christopher had designed the house. He was jolted by the thought that his career as an architect had begun in the lustful embraces of Sir Ambrose and his mistress. He was also angry that his brother had not warned him of the existence of Marie Louise Oilier. It was one more sin of omission with which to tax Henry Redmayne.

The correspondence raised a brutal question. It was easy to see what a middle-aged man like Sir Ambrose Northcott found so tempting about a beautiful young Frenchwoman but what did she see in him? His charms were hardly overpowering. Love was expressed in every one of the letters but Christopher had no means of judging how sincere it was. After a second reading of the billets-doux, he could still not decide whether he was looking at the tender outpourings of a woman in love or the guileful prose of someone in pursuit of Sir Ambrose's wealth. No false note was sounded by Marie Louise Oilier, however, and he slowly came to see her as the innocent victim of an older man's lechery. Whatever the true nature of their relationship, one thing was clear. She deserved to know that it had been brought to a premature end.

After a fruitful hour of reflection, Christopher dressed and went downstairs. He was surprised to see that Penelope Northcott was already up, seated at the dining room table over the breakfast which Jacob had prepared for her. He sensed an element of discomfort.

'Good morning, Miss Northcott.'

'Good morning.'

'Did you sleep well?'

'Extremely well, Mr Redmayne. The bed was very soft.'

'You were welcome to stay in it much longer,' he said. 'Did you have to rise so early?' 'My coachman will be here for me soon.'

'I am disappointed that you cannot tarry.'

'So am I,' she said, meeting his gaze. 'But I have imposed on you enough. Besides, I have business elsewhere.'

'Do you plan to return to Kent today?'

'No, Mr Redmayne. I will be staying in London for a few days.'

'My home is entirely at your disposal.'

'A kind offer, sir, but one which I must decline. Before I fell asleep last night, I reached a decision. It is vital that I visit our house in Westminster because it may contain clues which will be of great help to you. That being the case, I am forcing myself to go there.'

'I would be happy to accompany you.'

'That will not be necessary,' she said almost primly. 'I would prefer to be alone. Dirk will take me there in the coach.'

Christopher took a seat opposite her as Jacob brought him his breakfast. They ate in silence until the servant left the room. Penelope was a trifle nervous. He noticed that she avoided his eyes.

'I hope that you have no regrets, Miss Northcott,' he said.

'Regrets?'

'About staying under my roof.'

'None at all, Mr Redmayne,' she said, looking up at him. 'And it was convenient to have an inn around the corner in Holborn where my coach and coachman could be lodged for the night.'

'You give me the impression that you would have preferred to spend the night there yourself.'

'That is not the case at all, I promise you, and I am sorry if my manner suggests otherwise. You have been generosity itself but my mind is in turmoil over recent events. Please excuse me if I appear at all rude,' she said with a penitent smile. 'I am merely preoccupied.'

'Of course.'

'Is there anything you wish to ask before I leave?'

He grinned. 'I have questions enough to detain you for a week.'

'You will have to save them until a more fit time.'

'I will,' he said. 'Just remember that I am always here. If you need help of any kind while you are in London or, more to the point, if you do uncover what you conceive to be useful evidence at your house in Westminster, you know where to find me.'

'At the sign of the Kind Landlord.'

'Is that what I am?'

'You keep a comfortable inn, sir.'

'It has been blessed by your presence, Miss Northcott.'

His frank admiration unsettled her slightly and she was grateful when the rumble of wheels was heard outside. A glance through the window confirmed that her coachman had arrived. Showering him with more thanks, she rose from the table and crossed to the door. He followed her until a thought made her stop.

'There is something which deserves my particular thanks, sir.'

'Is there?'

'Your discretion,' she said. 'When we talked last night, you refrained from asking what anybody else would have asked at the outset.'

'And what was that?'

'How much of what I told you my fiancée must have known.'

'Nothing at all, surely.'

'I hope that is the case, naturally, and my heart assures me that it is. But you are more aware than I of how closely Mr Strype's business affairs were intertwined with my father's. They met frequently here in London. It must have crossed your mind that Mr Strype may have stumbled on some unpleasant facts about his future father-in-law.'

'It never entered my thoughts,' he lied.

'I do not believe you.'

'Then let me put it another way, Miss Northcott. It does not concern me. I consider it a matter between you and your fiancée.'

'Your tact is appreciated.'

Jacob opened the front door to let her out and Christopher helped her into the coach. When she settled into her seat, she spoke to him through the window.

'Please let me know if your investigations start to bear fruit,' she said.

'They already have,' he said with a smile which he instantly changed to an earnest frown. 'I will, Miss Northcott. But how will I reach you? I do not have your address in Westminster.'

'You will find it in my note.'

'What note?'

'The one I left for you in my bedchamber,' she said, 'thanking you for your hospitality. As you may imagine, I had great qualms about this visit but I feel reassured now. I just hope that some of the information I brought you may prove useful.'

'It is invaluable.'

'What will you do next?'

'Go straight to Mr Creech's office in Lombard Street to confront him with your findings. He must have known about this Marie Louise Oilier all along. And there is much else which that lawyer has been concealing from me. Not any more, Miss Northcott,' he vowed. 'You have given me the ammunition I need. I will make him divulge everything. I'll not leave his office until I have got the full and unequivocal truth out of Solomon Creech.'