The Parliament House

Chapter Eleven

Henry Redmayne could not miss such a golden opportunity. Though he knew that he should confide in his brother first, he decided to ignore Christopher and deliver his message directly. It would not only earn him certain gratitude, it would give him the chance to get close to Brilliana Serle again. To be in the same city as her was, for him, an exciting experience. To be under the same roof with Brilliana once more would be exhilarating. Accordingly, he ordered his horse to be saddled then rode off towards what he hoped might be Elysium.

When he reached the house in Westminster, he could not believe his good fortune. Sir Julius Cheever had not yet returned but his elder daughter was there with her husband. Henry was shown into the parlour, almost swooning as he caught a whiff of Brilliana's delicate perfume. He also took note of the suspicion in Lancelot Series eye and realised that he had to get rid of the husband before he could negotiate with the wife. Dispensing with the social niceties, he came straight to the point.

'I need to speak to Sir Julius at once,' he said.

'Father is still at the Parliament House,' returned Brilliana.

'So I was told by the servant who admitted me. I think that your father should be rescued from there at the earliest opportunity.'

'Rescued?' said Serle. 'Is he in some kind of danger?'

'Grave danger - though not of a physical kind.'

'I do not understand, Mr Redmayne.'

'I'm not able to enlighten you just yet, I fear,' said Henry. 'It's a matter of the utmost discretion. I'm sure that Sir Julius would rather hear my news in confidence. Only he can decide whether it should reach a wider audience.'

'But we are his family,' said Brilliana.

'And how fortunate he is in having such a daughter.'

'Can you not even give us a hint what this news portends?'

'No, Mrs Serle. I simply want to place certain facts at the disposal of your father. It might explain what has probably happened to him at the House of Commons today.'

'And what is that?' asked Serle.

'Only he can tell you.'

'You have me troubled, sir.'

'Mr Serle,' said Henry, trying to manoeuvre time alone with Brilliana, 'if you have your father-in-law's best interests at heart, you would go and fetch him at once.'

'I can hardly drag him out of a debate.'

'Oh, there will be no debate, I assure you. My guess is that Sir Julius will be relieved to see a friendly face. He'll need no persuasion to come home with you.'

'Do as Mr Redmayne suggests,' urged Brilliana.

'Your father will soon return of his own volition.'

'This is a matter of great importance, Lancelot.'

'A true emergency,' insisted Henry.

'Then why not go yourself?' said Serle, unwilling to leave the two of them alone. 'You could have ridden to parliament instead of coming here.'

'What use would that have been? The name of Henry Redmayne carries no weight with Sir Julius. If I were to have a message sent to him in the chamber, he would surely disregard it. If, however,' he went on, pointing at Serle, 'he hears that his son- in-law is without, he will respond immediately.'

'What are you waiting for?' demanded Brilliana, pushing her husband towards the door. 'Away with you.'

'Not until I know what this is all about,' said her husband.

'It's about Father. What else do you need to know?'

'Think of the perils he's come through recently,' added Henry. 'This is the latest of them and, perhaps, the most agonising. It will be a cruel blow to his pride.'

'Lancelot - go!'

With obvious misgivings, Serle left the room. After closing the door behind him, Henry turned to feast his eyes on Brilliana. She was even more gorgeous than he had remembered. Her fragrance was captivating. He took a few steps towards her.

'Mrs Serle, I cannot pretend that concern for your father was the only thing that brought me here this evening. I had hoped - nay, I'd fervently prayed - that I might be rewarded with a glimpse of you as well.' 'Why, thank you,' she said, smiling at the compliment.

'Since our chance meeting the other day, my mind has dwelt constantly upon you. Am I being presumptuous in thinking that you might have entertained pleasant memories of me?'

'Not at all. We enjoyed our visit to your house.'

'No guest was more welcome.'

'You have such an original taste in decoration.'

'I'm known for it.'

'And you are so utterly unlike your brother, Christopher.'

'We are equally talented - but in very different ways.'

'That's what I sensed.'

He took a step closer and beamed at her. Striking a pose, he turned what he believed to be his better profile towards her. Brilliana was struck by the arresting flamboyance of his attire and by his Cavalier elegance. What she found slightly unsettling was the intensity of his manner. When she had met him before, she had her husband beside her, a line of safety behind which she could retreat at any point. Because Serle had been there, she had felt able to be bold and forthcoming with a new acquaintance. Now, however, she had nobody to give her that invisible sense of security. As he stepped even nearer, Brilliana retreated involuntarily.

'Why do you flee from me, Mrs Serle?'

'I was merely adjusting my dress,' she said, playing with the folds of her skirt. 'Pray, do sit down while you are waiting.'

'I'd sooner stand in your presence - stand or kneel.'

'Mr Redmayne, I do believe that you are teasing me.'

'Not at all,' he assured her, producing his most disarming smile. 'I'd never even dream of it. I seek only your happiness. To that end,' he said, 'I will not rest until I have furthered your husband's political ambitions and found a way to introduce him at Court.'

'Lancelot is having second thoughts about that.'

'But you deserve a husband with such achievements to his name.'

'I still hope to have one,' said Brilliana, 'in the fullness of time. Thank you very much for your generous offer. It is much appreciated but Lancelot prefers to forge his own destiny.'

'And so do I.'

Henry took a deep breath. This was his moment. The speech that he had honed to perfection over the years was trembling on the tip of his tongue. It had never failed him, melting the heart of any woman who heard it and sweeping aside any lingering reservations that she might have. Brilliana was there for the taking. He had the familiar sensation of power as the blood coursed through his veins. He was ready to strike. Henry put a hand to his breast in a gesture of love. Before he could ensnare her in the seductive poetry of his declaration, however, the door opened and Susan Cheever entered. She took in the situation at a glance.

'Good evening, Mr Redmayne,' she said, blithely.

'Oh, good evening, Miss Cheever.'

'How nice to see you again! I apologise for this interruption. You don't mind if I spirit my sister away for a moment, do you?' said Susan, crossing the room to take a grateful Brilliana by the arm so that she could lead her out. 'There's something that I must show her.'

The pair of them swept out. Henry wilted.

The Polegate family did not return to London until late afternoon, so it was evening by the time that Jonathan Bale called on the vintner. He was invited into the counting house.

'How was your journey, sir?' said Bale.

'Slow and uncomfortable. We left with heavy hearts.'

'Mr Redmayne told me about the funeral. He was very moved by the ceremony. He said that it was conducted with great dignity.'

'That's the least my brother-in-law deserved,' said Polegate. 'We stayed on for a few days to console his wife. I assume that you've come to tell me about the progress of the investigation into Bernard's death? Has anything happened in our absence?'

'Yes, sir. We found the man who shot him.'

'You did? That's cheering news. Has he been imprisoned?'

'Alas, no.' 'Why not?'

'Because he was no longer alive when we caught up with him.'

Bale described their visit to Old Street and told him what conclusions had been drawn from the murder of Dan Crothers. The vintner was disturbed.

'Are you telling me that my brother-in-law was killed by a meat porter?' he said with patent disgust. 'Bernard was a man of great intelligence. He was a politician, a philosopher and a scholar. It's horrifying to think that he was shot by some illiterate labourer from the lower orders.'

'Dan Crothers was not illiterate,' said Bale, recalling the letters they had found upon him. 'And he was only the tool of someone else, sir. His services were bought.'

'By whom, Mr Bale - and for what reason?'

'We will find out in due course.'

'I have every faith in you and Mr Redmayne. I understand that this is not the first time you've been involved together in solving such a heinous crime.'

'No, Mr Polegate. We've joined forces in the past with some success. What we've learned is that nothing can be rushed. Patience is our watchword. Slow, steady steps will eventually get us to the truth.' He changed his tack. 'I spoke to those friends whose names you gave me. They were all full of sympathy.'

'That's good to know.'

'Mr Howlett was particularly upset to hear the sad tidings.'

'He would be. Erasmus has a kind heart - except when it comes to business, that is. There's no room for sentiment in that.'

'It surprised me that the two of you should be on such familiar terms when you must be keen rivals.'

'Not really, Mr Bale.'

'You both sell drink to the public.'

'Yes,' said Polegate, loftily, 'but we reach different markets. Beer is the choice of the majority of the populace. It's cheap and relatively easy to make.'

'I know, sir. My wife, Sarah, brews it at home.'

'Wine is more expensive because it has to be imported and is heavily taxed. In the main, I sell French and Rhenish wines, though

I expect to import from Spain and Portugal as well in future. Customers who drink beer at a tavern like the Saracen's Head would not even consider purchasing my stock.' He gave a dry laugh. 'Here's a paradox for you, Mr Bale. One of the city's leading brewers will not touch a drop of his beer. He prefers my wine.'

'Mr Howlett?'

'He has an educated palate.'

'And he can afford the higher prices.'

'Yes, Erasmus is a wealthy man. A very amiable one, too.'

'So I discovered,' said Bale. 'Though I felt sorry for the way that his hands were constantly trembling. That must be a problem.'

'It does not prevent him from counting the week's takings,' said Polegate, wryly, 'I know that. It's a problem he's had for years and it seems to be beyond cure.'

'Does it prevent him from writing?'

'I don't think so - not that I've had any correspondence from him myself.'

'Is he interested in political affairs?'

'Everyone in business takes a keen interest in that, Mr Bale. Our livelihoods are closely linked to the laws that are passed, and the taxes that are voted in. Why do you ask about Erasmus?'

'He had the air of a politician about him.'

'I've never noticed that. Sir Julius Cheever is my idea of a Member of Parliament - strong, outspoken and committed to his principles. My brother-in-law would have been the same,' he continued with a shrug, 'but it was not to be. Erasmus Howlett is hardly in their mould.'

'He would hardly share their ideals,' said Bale. 'What I meant was that Mr Howlett had unmistakable character. He spoke well and with great confidence. Such men often drift into the political arena.'

'In one sense, you are right about him.'

'Am I?'

'Yes,' said the other, 'Erasmus may have no ambitions to enter the House of Commons but he does have one dream with a political flavour to it - he wishes to be Lord Mayor one day.'

'Really?' said Bale. 'Is there any likelihood of that?'

'A definite likelihood and I would certainly profit from it. What better advertisement could I have than to be known as the vintner who fills the cellars of the Mayor of London?'

'And does Mr Howlett provide you with beer in return?'

'Oh, no, Mr Bale,' replied Polegate. 'Once you have acquired a taste for wine, beer is anathema. At least, it was in my case. As for dear Erasmus,' he went on, 'his desire to become Lord Mayor is no idle dream. It's a project on which he has worked very carefully. He's taken advice on how to achieve his aim from a true politician.'

'And who is that, sir?'

'His cousin - the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

'Stoneleigh!' exclaimed Sir Julius Cheever, cheeks puce with rage. 'I should have known that that wily devil was behind it.'

'I felt it my duty to report to you,' said Henry.

'I'm grateful to you, Mr Redmayne. It solves the mystery.'

'Word of it would have spread quickly. You must have been the subject of considerable mockery in parliament.'

'I was,' admitted the other, shuddering at the memory. 'They laughed at me like so many hyenas. Had I walked stark naked into the chamber, I could not have provoked more ridicule.'

Lancelot Serle had not needed to go to the Parliament House. He had met Sir Julius as his father-in-law was on his way home and told him of his visitor. Throbbing with fury, Sir Julius had refused to confide the cause of his anger to Serle. As soon as he got back to the house, he took Henry into the upstairs room he used as a study and demanded to know why he had come.

'Explain it in full,' he now invited. 'I want to know all the details of this outrage.'

'Earlier today,' Henry explained, 'I was taken by friends to visit the theatre. It's not something that I would ordinarily do, Sir Julius,' he lied, 'for I do not like to have my sensibilities offended by some of the base and slanderous matter that seems to inhabit our stages. I only agreed to go on this occasion because I was acquainted with the author of the play.'

'The Earl of Stoneleigh.'

'I know him as Cuthbert Woodruffe.'

'And I, as an arrant knave,' growled Sir Julius.

'The play was called The Royal Favourite and I had, by sheer chance, seen it when it was first performed at the King's Theatre. It's an amusing comedy and free from the kind of salaciousness that seems to infect the work of most dramatists.'

'Yet you say a new scene had been added to the play.'

'A long and very significant new scene, Sir Julius.'

'Portraying me in a very unflattering light.'

'Alas, yes,' said Henry, pretending to a sympathy he did not feel. 'I was so shocked on your behalf that I almost fled the theatre. What kept me there was the fact that you deserved a full account of what took place, so I forced myself to sit through the scene.'

'You deserve my gratitude for that, Mr Redmayne.'

'There could be no doubt that you were being lampooned. The name of the character was Sir Julius Seize-Her, a rapacious country gentleman from Northamptonshire.'

'Now I see why they cried "Hail, Caesar!" at me in parliament.'

'The actor had a clear resemblance to you and dressed in the sort of apparel that you wear. Everyone recognised you instantly.'

'I did not know that I was so famous,' said Sir Julius, grimly. 'Was I shown as a Member of Parliament?'

'Oh, yes,' replied Henry. 'In fact, the whole scene took place in the Parliament House. Sir Julius Seize-Her had inveigled an attractive young woman into the chamber so that he could prey upon her virtue. When she resisted, he pursued her around the stage with gusto.' He gave an admiring smile. 'As a matter of fact, you showed a wonderful turn of foot, Sir Julius.'

'It was not me, man - only some crude version of me.'

'Crude and insulting.'

'How did the scene end?'

'Rather painfully,' said Henry. 'When she could not outrun her would-be seducer, the lady used her only means of defence and struck him with the Speaker's mace in a part of the anatomy that caused him to abandon his designs.'

Sir Julius flopped into a chair and brooded on what he had heard. Knowing Henry to be an incorrigible rake, he did not for a second believe that his visit to the theatre had been a rare event. It was a place that Henry and his friends haunted on a regular basis. Nor did Sir Julius accept the claim that Henry had been so scandalised that he had an urge to abandon the play. He was much more likely to have relished the scene with the rest of the audience.

That being said, the fact remained that he had taken the trouble to call at the house and describe what had happened at the King's Theatre that day. It explained everything. Sir Julius was certain that some of his fellow Members of Parliament had also been at the play, more interested in watching the denigration of an enemy than in attending a debate in the chamber. Sir Julius could imagine how quickly they had raced to Westminster to tell their friends what they had witnessed. When he had joined them, Sir Julius had walked into a solid wall of derision and he was still reeling from the impact.

Henry cleared his throat to attract the other man's attention.

'May I have permission to speak to your daughter?' he said. 'What?'

'Mrs Serle was understandably upset when I told her that you might be in danger of some sort. Since I was unable to give her any details, her fears were only intensified. If I could have some time alone with her,' Henry added, tentatively, 'I could explain to Brilliana - to Mrs Serle - why I had to hold the information back.'

'No,' snarled Sir Julius. 'You'll tell her nothing.'

'But she has a right to know.'

'And I have a right to shield her from any unpleasantness. At this stage, neither of my daughters need know the truth so you must not dare to divulge a word.'

'On my honour, I'll divulge nothing.'

'Then I've no need to detain you, Mr Redmayne.'

'If I could speak to Mrs Serle alone for a mere two minutes…'

'No,' said Sir Julius, getting to his feet. 'You'll talk to nobody in this house. Leave any explanations to me. It's no secret to you that I've never held a very high opinion of you and I daresay that you know the reasons why. On the other hand, I can recognise a good deed when I see one and this particular deed has earned my undying thanks.' He offered his hand and Henry shook it. 'You have not merely lifted a veil from my eyes. You have helped to determine what my course of action must be.'

Though he took no active part in debates, Lewis Bircroft was a dutiful man who felt honour bound to represent his constituents on the occasions when parliament met. He had been present during the humiliation of Sir Julius Cheever and was one of the few who had not joined in the raucous laughter. When he got back to his lodging in Coleman Street, he was still wondering why the appearance of his friend had aroused such concerted mockery. Hobbling into the parlour on his walking stick, he learned that he had a visitor. Jonathan Bale rose up out of the half-dark to welcome him.

'Good evening, Mr Bircroft,' he said. 'Forgive the lateness of this call but you've been out of the house all day. I wonder if I might have a small amount of your time?'

'As long as it is only a small amount, Constable. After a full day in the chamber, I'm extremely tired.'

He moved to the nearest seat and lowered himself slowly into it. Bale waited until the other man had settled down before he spoke.

'You remember what we discussed last time we met, sir?'

'I do and I have nothing else to add.'

'What you did not give me was the name of the man who paid those bullies to cudgel you.'

'I cannot give you what I do not know,' said Bircroft.

'Then perhaps I could suggest the man's identity.'

'No, Constable. The incident belongs in the past. As I told you before, even a mention of it causes me great pain and upset.'

'Would you not like to see justice done, Mr Bircroft:?'

'I've rather lost my belief in the concept.'

'Well, I haven't,' said Bale, proudly. 'My whole life is dedicated to it, sir. Nobody can right all the wrongs that are committed for they are too many in number. But I like to feel that I've brought justice to bear in many instances - and I would like to do the same here.'

'What can a mere constable do against such people?'

'So you do know who ordered that beating.'

'That's not what I said,' retorted the other. 'I was trained as a lawyer, Mr Bale. I choose my words with great care. In the wake of what happened to me, I've exercised even more precision.'

'I do not blame you, Mr Bircroft.'

'Then do not add to my discomfort by harping on the subject.'

'Let me ask but one question,' said Bale.

'The other man sighed. 'Very well - just one.'

'Do you know the Earl of Stoneleigh?'

'Yes.'

'What manner of man is he?'

'I answered your question - now leave me alone.'

'Even if we are able to prove that it was the earl who paid those men to attack you?'

'No,' said Bircroft, crisply.

'You may have no faith in justice, but surely you can take some satisfaction from revenge?' He sat close to him. 'Yes, I am only a parish constable but I can draw on immense resources. I've arrested members of the peerage before, Mr Bircroft. Nobody is above the law.'

'But there are those who can twist it to their advantage.'

'As a lawyer, you should want to stop them doing that.'

'I tried, Mr Bale - and look what happened to me.'

He stretched out both arms. Even in the flickering candlelight, Bale could see how frail he was. All the life seemed to have been knocked out of Lewis Bircroft. He was a hollow shell of a man.

'Are you afraid of the earl?' asked Bale.

Bircoft indicated the door. 'You will have to see yourself out.'

'Who are his friends? What company does he keep?'

'Only he can tell you that, Mr Bale.'

'What will it cost you to give me the truth?'

'This is the truth,' said the other, sharply, pointing to his wry neck and injured leg. 'I have to live with it every day. I was suspected of causing offence to someone and I suffered as a result. A man can only take so much truth, Mr Bale. I've already had my fill.'

'So you fear a second beating, is that what troubles you?'

'It would be a death sentence. I could never survive it.'

'You'll not need to if we arrest the man responsible.'

'He's way beyond your reach, Mr Bale. Nobody is above the law, you tell me? You have clearly not been following the activities of the King and his Court. They revel in their lawlessness,' said Bircroft with rancour. 'They commit crimes upon innocent people whenever they choose and an army of constables could not stop them. When you live under such tyranny, you learn to be circumspect.'

'Sir Julius Cheever is not circumspect.'

'His turn will come, alas.'

'Every man is entitled to fight back against his enemies.'

'Not when they hold a power of you.'

'Is that the situation you are in, Mr Bircroft? Does someone hold a power of you?'

'I think that I would like you to go, Constable.'

'Is the name of that person the Earl of Stoneleigh?'

Bircroft said nothing but his eyes were pools of eloquence. Bale did not need to stay. He had the answer he sought.

Christopher Redmayne went to open the front door himself. When he saw the coach draw up outside his house, he thought that Susan Cheever had returned and he rushed to greet her. In fact, it was her father who descended from the vehicle. After issuing a gruff apology for the lateness of the hour, Sir Julius followed the architect into the house and they settled down in the parlour. Sensing that it might be needed, Jacob materialised out of his pantry to place a bottle of brandy and two glasses on the table between them. From the eagerness with which his visitor accepted the offer of a drink, Christopher could see that he was thoroughly jangled.

'Has something happened, Sir Julius?' he asked.

'Another attempt has been made to kill me.' 'When? Where?'

'At the King's Theatre,' said Sir Julius, taking a long sip of his brandy. 'Since musket balls will not bring me down, they are trying to murder my reputation.'

'I do not understand.'

'Then let me explain.'

Sir Julius told him about the savage laughter he had endured from his parliamentary colleagues, and how he had been unable to fathom its cause until Henry Redmayne had arrived at his house. When he recalled the scene in the play that traduced him, he was shaking with uncontrollable anger. By the end of his account, he had finished his brandy and requested another.

Christopher was annoyed and troubled. His ire was reserved exclusively for his brother. He could see exactly why Henry had concealed the information from him so that he would have an excuse to visit the house in Westminster in the hope of seeing Brilliana Serle. It made Christopher seethe. At the same time, he was deeply concerned for Sir Julius. He had never seen him in such a ravaged condition. His visitor looked like an old bear that had been chained to a stake then attacked by a pack of hounds.

On any other day, Sir Julius would have beaten them away with a growl of defiance but he was already in a weakened state as the result of a personal setback. Christopher knew how upset he must have been when Sir Julius saw his hopes of a closer relationship with Dorothy Kitson founder on the rocks of a family gathering.

'This is most unfortunate, Sir Julius,' he said.

'It's a foul calumny.'

'Invoke the law and have the scene removed from the play.'

'Oh, I want more than that, Mr Redmayne,' said the other.

'When I discussed the matter with Susan, she told me that you and the Earl of Stoneleigh were sworn enemies. He still nurses a grudge against you from the battle of Worcester.'

'I should have had him hanged when I had the chance!'

'I gather that you've been a thorn in his flesh ever since you entered parliament.'

'I've endeavoured to be. Stoneleigh is in the Upper House so we never actually meet, but he has a large following in the Commons - Ninian Teale, Maurice Farwell, Roland Askray, to name but a few. I abhor everything such men represent. Most of all, I loathe Stoneleigh.'

'Would it surprise you to know that he may have been instrumental in having your friend, Lewis Bircroft, set on by bullies?'

'Not in the least. But we have no proof.'

'We do now,' said Christopher. 'Had you arrived ten minutes earlier, you would have heard Jonathan Bale's account of his visit to Mr Bircroft. It's the second time they've spoken.'

'Then your friend, the constable, has had more conversation with Lewis than I have. Since the beating, he's refused to talk to me and would never name the person who initiated the attack.'

'He did not name him this evening, Sir Julius. He is clearly in a state of fear. Jonathan, however, is very tenacious. He kept waving the Earl of Stoneleigh in front of him until Mr Bircroft eventually gave himself away.'

'Lewis was his first victim,' said Sir Julius. 'I am his second.'

'Except that he used words against you instead of cudgels.'

'They hurt just as much, Mr Redmayne. Every jibe I received in the chamber was like a physical blow. Well, I am not one to turn the other cheek. When someone hits me, I strike back hard.'

'You've every right to do so.'

Sir Julius became conspiratorial. 'I need your help and I must avail myself of your discretion. Before I say another word,' he added, 'I must extract a solemn promise from you. Nothing that passes between us will go any further than this room. Is that agreed?'

'Agreed, Sir Julius.'

'It must never reach the ears of my daughters.'

'As you wish,' said Christopher, unhappy at the thought of having to conceal something else from Susan. 'May I ask why?'

'Because they would do everything they could to stop me.'

'Why is that, Sir Julius?'

'I've challenged the Earl of Stoneleigh to a duel.'

Christopher was stunned. 'A duel?' 'It's the only way to answer such vile slander against me.'

'But duelling is against the law.'

'Then the law must be broken on this occasion. Honour demands it. My challenge has already been sent.'

'I wish that you'd consulted me before dispatching it, Sir Julius,' said Christopher, worriedly. 'You should first have asked for a full public apology. If that had not been given, resort to litigation would have achieved your ends.'

'The only way to do that is to kill Stoneleigh.'

'But he's somewhat younger than you, I believe.'

'So?' said the other, indignantly. 'Are you suggesting that I do not know how to handle a sword, Mr Redmayne?'

'Of course not.'

'Then obey my commands. When my challenge is accepted - as it must surely be - I need you to be standing ready.'

'Why?' asked Christopher, increasingly alarmed at what he was hearing. 'What do you require of me, Sir Julius?'

'You will act as one of my seconds.'

Dorothy Kitson was about to retire to bed when she heard the front door being unlocked. Voices rose up from the hall and she recognised one as belonging to her brother. Putting on her dressing gown, she took up her candle and made her way along the landing.'

'Is that you, Orlando?' she said.

'Yes,' he replied, 'and I know that it's an inconvenient time to call but I felt that you should hear the news at once.'

'What news?' She came down the marble staircase and saw the animation in his face. 'Whatever's happened?'

'I'll tell you in a moment.'

Taking a candle from one of the servants, he shepherded her into the parlour and shut the door behind him. Both candles were set on a table so that they cast a glow across the two chairs on which they settled. Dorothy looked bewildered.

'It's unlike you to call at such an hour, Orlando.'

'I felt that the tidings could not wait.'

'What tidings?' 'You have had a narrow escape, Dorothy.'

'From what?'

'The ignominy of having your name linked with that of Sir Julius Cheever. I praise the Lord that I rescued you from that.'

'You are talking in riddles,' she complained.

'I'm sorry,' he said, reaching out to take her hands. 'I only heard about it myself over supper with friends. It's now the talk of the town, it seems, and will certainly feature in tomorrow's newspapers. A play called The Royal Favourite was performed today at the King's Theatre. It contained a vicious - if highly comical - satire on your erstwhile friend.'

'Sir Julius Cheever?'

'In the play, I believe, he is Sir Julius Seize-Her.'

He told her what he had heard from someone who had actually witnessed the performance, and Dorothy sat there with an expression of dismay on her face. When he had finished, Orlando Golland was almost giggling with pleasure.

'Well? What do you think of that?'

'I think it very unkind of you to take such satisfaction from someone else's pain,' she reproached. 'It's unworthy of you, Orlando.'

'It was the laughter of relief,' he said, trying to be more serious. 'I was celebrating my sister's escape from her unwise entanglement with Sir Julius. Were you and he about to contemplate marriage, then you would have suffered this public disgrace along with him.'

'I do suffer it. I have the greatest sympathy for him.'

'Sir Julius deserved it.'

'I disagree.'

'He's upset too many people - Stoneleigh among them.'

'Cuthbert?' she said. 'This is one of his plays?'

'Yes, Dorothy,' he replied. 'And from what I hear, it's nothing short of a masterpiece. Sir Julius has been well and truly stoned by the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

'How cruel!'

'It will finish him.'

'What do you mean?

'Even someone as obtuse and insensitive as Sir Julius will not be able to shrug this off. Public humiliation will force him to quit London and run all the way back home.'

'You are quite mistaken,' she said. 'Sir Julius is neither obtuse nor insensitive. In some ways, he's one of the most sensitive men I've ever met. This will not simply wound him. It will shake him to the core. But he'll not take flight, Orlando,' she predicted. 'Of that you may be certain. You reckon without his pride.'

'When he reads tomorrow's newspapers, he will have none left.'

'You underrate him badly.'

'My guess is that he may already have left the city.'

'Then you do not know him as well as I. He will stay.'

'As long as he does not turn to you for succour,' said Golland. That would be too much to bear. I'd hoped that Stoneleigh's play would chase the old fool out of the capital, not send him running to your arms.'

'At a time like this,' she said, 'Sir Julius needs friends. He'll find plenty of compassion here. I judge it to be heartless of Cuthbert to indulge in such gratuitous spite, and I shall tell him so if I see him. I feel sorry for anyone who is pilloried on stage like that.'

'So do I,' said Golland, complacently, 'but not in this case. I've never been a theatregoer but, if the play is ever staged again, I will make certain that I'm there to see it.'

Henry Redmayne was still trying to appease his employer by working at the Navy Office in the mornings. It was a torment. Two servants were needed to get him out of bed, the barber was on hand to shave him and a breakfast was prepared for him even though he barely touched it. He was on the point of leaving that morning when his brother presented himself at the door.

'Christopher,' he said. 'What on earth has brought you here?'

'Anger,' replied his brother, using the flat of his hand to push him backwards into the hall. 'Anger, disappointment and disgust.'

'Such emotions can hardly have been engendered by me.'

'All three, Henry, and many more besides. I'm angry because you hid something important from me that I had a right to be told. I'm disappointed because I did not think you'd go behind my back to consort with a man I regard as a murder suspect. And,' he continued with rising iritation, 'I'm disgusted that a brother of mine should enter a house under false pretences so that he could ogle a married woman under the nose of her husband.'

'Brilliana wants me.'

'Only in the confines of your fevered mind.'

'She does, Christopher. I saw it in her eyes.'

'And what do you see in my eyes?'

Henry was frightened by the look of fierce displeasure that his brother shot him. He had never seen Christopher roused to such a pitch of fury before. He tried to mollify him.

'I can explain everything,' he said, palms upraised. 'Yes, I did attend the play yesterday, and it did cross my mind that I should come straight to you afterwards.'

'Why did you not come before the play was performed?'

'Before?'

'Yes, Henry,' said his brother. 'If we had known what the play contained, we could have moved to stop it before its poison was displayed on stage. You are a friend of the Earl of Stoneleigh. When you heard that his play was being revived, you must have been aware that new material had been added.'

'I did and I did not.'

'Don't prevaricate!'

'I knew that Cuthbert had introduced a new scene into the play but I swear that I did not know what it contained.'

'But you were told that it related to Sir Julius Cheever?'

'Yes and no.'

'You are doing it again!' protested Christopher.

'Cuthbert hinted that a certain Member of Parliament would find it very uncomfortable if he were seated in the audience. No name was given, I assure you.'

'But one was implied. In short, you knew.'

'Let us just say that I had a vague idea.'

'Henry, you appall me sometimes,' said Christopher, barely able to keep his hands off him. 'You are fully cognisant of the situation. A man was murdered in place of Sir Julius. A second attempt was made on his life. Your own brother was involved in tracking down the killer. Yet you say nothing - nothing at all - when you are forewarned by a friend that his play will contain a brutal attack on Sir Julius.'

'It was comical rather than brutal, Christopher.'

'Only to those who enjoy the sport of blood-letting.'

'And I could hardly alert you to something that I had not actually seen. All that you would have had was a rumour. That would not have been enough to halt the performance.'

'It would have prepared Sir Julius for what was to come.'

Henry sniggered. 'It was highly amusing, I must admit.'

'Yes,' said Christopher, vehemently. 'And the moment you stopped laughing, you put on a different face and have the gall to tell Sir Julius that it was a trial to sit through so unjust a lampoon. The only reason you even bothered to tell him was so that you could get within reach of Brilliana Serle.'

'And, by a miracle, I did. But she was snatched away from me at the critical moment. I'll never forgive Susan for doing that.'

'I must remember to congratulate her.'

'A man must follow the dictates of love.'

'I'll not have you dignifying your lust as pure romance.'

'You've never understood the promptings of my heart.'

'I understand them only too well,' said Christopher, 'and I pity the poor wretches who are victims of them. Well, Mrs Serle is not going to be one of them. To sneak into her company on the pretext of helping her father was improper, immoral and ignoble. I've never felt so ashamed of you in all my life.'

Henry yawned. 'Your impersonation of Father is very tiresome.'

'He'd disown you if he knew what you had done - disown you and deprive you of your generous allowance. Where would you be without that?'

'You will surely not tell him of this?' said Henry, suddenly afraid. 'I need that money, Christopher.'

'Then do something to earn it or, by this hand, I'll let him know what kind of a son you are. What you did was unpardonable but you can at least try to repair some of the damage. Now,' said Christopher, advancing on him, 'this is what I want you to do.'

Sir Julius Cheever spent the whole day locked in his study. Meals were taken up to him but he was never even seen by his daughters. It increased their concern. Their father was in great distress yet he refused to tell them why. Tiring of being kept ignorant, Brilliana Serle had dispatched her husband to speak to his father-in-law and elicit the truth. Serle was met with such a verbal broadside from Sir Julius that he cut his losses and withdrew. The day wore relentlessly on. By the time they went to bed, Susan and Brilliana were still no nearer to understanding the cause of their father's evident suffering.

Early next morning, they were awakened by the sound of wheels scrunching the gravel outside. Susan was out of bed in a flash and got to the window in time to see Sir Julius getting into his coach and being driven away. It was shortly after dawn. Before Susan could work out where he was going, there was a tap on her door and Brilliana came into the room in her nightgown.

'What's going on, Susan?' she asked in consternation.

'I wish that I knew.'

'Father never gets up at this time of the morning.'

'Well, he did today,' said Susan. 'He has not been the same since we had that visit from Henry Redmayne - though I don't believe that a desire to see Father was what really brought him here.'

Brilliana was rueful. 'You are right,' she said. 'The first time I met Mr Redmayne, I must inadvertently have given him the wrong impression. Now I can see why he was so eager to get Lancelot out of the house. Fortunately, you were still here, Susan.'

'What message did Henry bring for Father that day? That's what I'd like to find out.'

'Christopher might know.'

'Unhappily, no,' said Susan. 'I sent him a note on that very subject. He replied instantly but said that he was unable to help us.'

'Then I must speak to his brother directly.'

'That might not be a sensible idea, Brilliana. Stay clear of Henry Redmayne in future. If he had wanted us to know his secret, he would have divulged it. All will soon become clear.'

'I hope so. Lancelot was most upset yesterday.'

'Why?'

'He asked to see the newspaper. Father had it delivered to his study and it remained there all day. When Lancelot sent a servant upstairs for it, his request was turned down with uncalled-for rudeness.' Brilliana's face puckered. 'Why was my husband prevented from seeing the newspaper'

'I wish I knew.'

'Oh, I do so hate a mystery, Susan.'

'Especially one of this nature,' said her sister. 'It was bad enough for us to be denied the information that Father's life was in danger. We are his daughters. We should have been told.'

'Christopher let you down badly.'

'I remonstrated with him over that. He'll not fail me again.'

'And if he does?'

Susan let the question hang in the air. She could not believe that Christopher would deceive her twice in a row. He had vowed to be more open with her. She had to trust him.

'Did you see Father leave?' said Brilliana.

'I had a fleeting glimpse of him as he climbed into the coach.'

'Did you notice anything odd about him, Susan?' 'Odd?'

'He was carrying a sword in his hand.'