The King's Evil

Infatuation gave her no respite. Having thought about him constantly for well over a week, Margaret Littlejohn had been drawn back as if by a magnet to Fetter Lane. Even though she had been told that Christopher Redmayne was not there, his house still held a magic for her. She would never forget the one time she had been inside the building and the one glorious moment when she had been held in his arms. That memory prompted her to pay yet another visit to Fetter Lane.

It was late morning when she and Nan arrived. Simply being back in his street was exciting enough. When she saw his house again, Margaret Littlejohn flushed with joy. She envisaged him coming out to welcome her then escorting her inside. Her companion was supportive but cautious. Nan advised against getting too close to the house, lest they be seen by the manservant. Accordingly, the two of them lingered a small distance away, diagonally opposite the building.

They waited there for half an hour before they noticed the man. Like them, his interest was in Christopher Redmayne's house. Walking past on the opposite side of the road, he stopped and looked back at it with intense curiosity. He was thirty yards away from the two women and they could only see him from the rear but they thought there was something familiar about him. When they realised what it was, they exchanged a look of fear. Tall, slim and wearing a broad-brimmed hat, the man was carrying a walking stick. They recalled the figure they had seen emerging from the cellars at the building site.

When the man came towards them, they held their ground and pretended to converse. Taking no notice of him at first, Margaret waited until he was level with her before shooting him a glance. She gulped with horror as malevolent eyes glared at her through two slits. The man's whole face was covered by a white mask. When he vanished around the corner, she needed a few moments to collect her thoughts. Sensing that the man she loved might be in danger, she was desperate to warn him somehow. She decided to tell his manservant that the house had been watched by a sinister man whom she believed she might have seen before. If nothing else, her concern would endear her to Christopher Redmayne.

But she was not able to express it. Before she could move, a coach came rumbling up the lane from Fleet Street and stopped outside his house. Margaret watched in despair as the man whom she thought was in France came eagerly out of his front door to offer his hand to the young lady as she alighted from the coach. Even at that distance, she could see the studied affection in his manner. Margaret felt utterly betrayed. Not only had Christopher told his manservant to lie to her, he was paying court to someone else. The impulse to warn him disappeared beneath a welter of emotions. Supported by Nan, she went off in tears.