'Have you spoken with Martin Crenlowe?'
'Yes, he told me about his visit here. I called on Sir Humphrey Godden as well.'
'What about Captain Harvest?'
'I left him to Jonathan Bale.'
'What!' exclaimed Henry, pulsing with anger. 'You let that sour- faced Puritan know about my disgrace? How could you? Keep him away, Christopher. I want none of the fellow. His solemnity oppresses me.'
'Jonathan is a good friend.'
'Not to me.'
'He's also a constable with a keen eye and a good brain.'
'Yes,' said Henry bitterly, 'but he employs them both in the prevention of harmless pleasures. If he had his way, we'd all be in a state of never-ending penitence, wearing sackcloth and ashes as we shuffle our way to church. Jonathan Bale is helping me?' he cried in disbelief. 'He's more likely to turn public executioner for the privilege of putting a rope around my neck.'
'You do not know the man.'
'I know what he thinks of me. I see it in that ugly face of his. Nothing will convince me that that gloomy constable has my best interests at heart. He despises all that I stand for. Be honest, Christopher,' he urged. 'Does the fellow really believe in my innocence?'
'Not entirely,' said his brother.
'So what have you done? Hired him to prove my guilt?'
'No, Henry.'
'Then what?'
'I need to lean on his experience.'
'Even though loathes me?'
'Henry-'
'Why must you torment me like this?'
He burst into tears and flung himself into his brother's arms. Henry was more despondent than ever now. Hoping that some progress had been made towards securing his release, he had learned of major setbacks. Christopher waited until the sobbing had stopped before he spoke. He eased his brother gently away from him.
'The person who can help you most is yourself,' he said.
'Me?'
'Any new detail you can remember about that night may be crucial.'
'I've tried and tried,' said Henry, wiping tears away with the back of his hand. 'But my mind is a very blur. This is no place for contemplation, Christopher. It's worse than Bedlam.'
'Is there nothing that you can recall?'
'Nothing at all. But I must tell you this,' said Henry, grabbing him by both arms. 'It may help in my defence. Granted, I could have killed that posturing Italian. But I'm sure that I did not because I feel no remorse. Do you see what that means? If I'd done the deed, I'd have felt sorry afterwards, when my anger had subsided. But I feel nothing. I neither rejoice in his death nor regret it. Explain that, if you will,' he demanded, releasing Christopher. 'How can a person of high emotion like me feel nothing whatsoever?'
'No twinges of conscience?'
'None.'
'No satisfaction that a despised enemy was killed?'
'That would only come if I'd been the one lucky enough to kill him.'
Christopher was alarmed. He hoped that his brother would never have to go to trial but it was a contingency that had to be taken into account. Henry's comments might persuade him of his own innocence but they would hardly sway a jury in his favour. His last remark had made his brother blench. Uttered in the courtroom, it would suggest a heartless man with a burning hatred of the murder victim. Christopher knew that he had to mix strictness with his sympathy.
'You did not tell me the whole truth, Henry,' he chided.
'I did. I told you all.'
'Not according to Sir Humphrey Godden.'
'Does he call me a liar?'
'No,' said Christopher, 'he merely doubted that his alleged cheating at cards was enough to make you turn against Signor Maldini. Apparently, you were exposed to scorn at the fencing school.'
'I prefer to forget that shameful episode.'
'It's important, Henry.'
'Is it?' 'It provides you with a motive. Tell me what happened.'
'Must I?'
'Yes,' insisted his brother. 'If I'm to help you, I must know everything.'
'Very well,' said Henry with a sigh of reluctance. 'I was the victim of the most dreadful act of spite at that fencing school one day. It was utterly humiliating. I'm no mean swordsman, as you know. I've worked hard to master all the accomplishments of a gentleman - fencing, dancing, drinking and gambling.'
Christopher was sardonic. 'Not to mention the arts of the bedchamber.'
'I had a natural excellence in that direction.'
'What did Signor Maldini do?'
'He set me up so that he could cut me down, Christopher. He waited until the school was full then chose me for a demonstration. I was flattered at first. That illusion did not last,' he said with rancour. 'While I had a rapier, Jeronimo Maldini seemed to have a magic wand in his hand. It did whatever he wished. He slashed my sleeves open, hacked off my buttons and made me look such a blundering clown that everyone jeered at me. It was quite insupportable.'
'Why do you think he did that?'
'To prove that he was the superior swordsman.'
'That was evident before you started. Why pick on you, Henry?'
'To vent his dislike of me.'
'Was there not another reason as well?'
'Not that I know of.'
'Think again.'
'He simply wanted to shame me.'
'And we both know why,' suggested his brother. 'You talked of cheating at cards and Sir Humphrey Godden mentioned this bout at the fencing school, but there was another cause of strife between you.' He lowered his voice. 'What was her name?'
Henry was shaken. 'I've not the slightest idea of what you are talking about,' he said, trying to muster some indignation. 'This conversation has taken an unsavoury turn.'
'Who was the lady, Henry?'
'What lady?'
'The one who came between you and your fencing master.'
"There's no such person.' 'Who was she?'
Henry faltered. 'That's a personal matter and has no relevance here.'
'So you confess that there was someone?'
'Place what construction you will on my statement.'
"Then I can only believe that you actually welcome trial and conviction,' said Christopher levelly, 'for you shun what might be significant evidence in your favour. Does it not occur to you that this lady may be in a position to save your life?'
'She'd be more inclined to break my heart.'
'Is that what she did when she went off with Signor Maldini?'
'He tricked her,' yelled Henry turning on him. 'He used every foul device he knew to woo her away from me. When he'd done that, when he'd lured her with false promises, when he'd sneaked his way into her bed and taken his evil pleasures, he cast her aside like a broken doll.' His face went blank. 'I loved her, Christopher,' he said in a hollow voice. 'I loved her as I've never loved anyone else. Yes,' he went on before his brother could interrupt, 'I know you've heard me say that before but this time it was different. It was not mere lust disguised as love. It was true passion of a kind I'd not felt before.' He bit his lip and shook his head. 'I loved her, I swear it.'
'What was her name?'
'Forget her. Please. It's all in my past.'
'But she may be able to have some influence on your future as well,' reasoned Christopher. 'She'll have intelligence about your rival that nobody else has. It may help you. And, I daresay, the lady will be overcome with regret at the way she treated you. Let me speak to her, Henry.'
'It would serve no purpose.'
'Are you afraid of what she might tell me?'
Henry sagged. 'I still care, Christopher. I want to spare her any more pain.'
'That's a laudable objective but not a very practical one. It was Captain Harvest who revealed the existence of the lady. He would not divulge her name but he'll have no choice if he's put under oath in the witness box.' Christopher put a hand on his arm. 'Who is she, Henry, and where do I find her?'
'I dare not tell you.'
'Why not?' 'Because you've always
taken such a critical view of my amours.'
'Only when they have deserved my reproach. More often than not, you pay for your pleasures then profess to love the lady, even though her favours are for hire. I'm bound to look askance at that, Henry.'
'This time it was different.'
'Then I'm pleased for you,' said Christopher with a kind smile. 'I'm delighted that you found someone who rescued you from that dark and licentious world that you inhabit and taught you the value of true love. Who was she?'
'I'll not betray her name.'
'Captain Harvest will have no compunction in doing so.'
'Damn the fellow!'
'Let me speak to her.' His brother turned away. 'I'll be discretion itself.' Henry shook his head. 'What is holding you back?'
'Fear of your censure.'
'But I've already told you how thrilled I am that you found someone who could inspire such feelings in you. The lady must be special indeed if she could make you think of romance instead of mere conquest. Why should I be censorious?'
'Because she is married.'
'Oh,' said Christopher.
'Unhappily married to a brute of a husband,' continued Henry, anxious to justify his behaviour. 'It would have been cruel to have let her suffer his ill-treatment of her without offering some relief. I felt honour bound to go to her aid.'
'You intended to rescue her from her marriage?'
'No, from her unhappiness.'
'It sounds to me as if you might well have increased it, Henry. Think of the danger you would have put her in if her husband had discovered the truth.'
'The old fool suspected nothing.'
'How can you be so sure?'
'He was always too caught up in his own affairs.'
'I need to speak to her,' said Christopher. 'I need to speak to everyone who may be in a position to help you in some way. The lady must have cared for you.'
'She did - until that snake of an Italian took her from me.'
'Tell me her name.' 'Only if you promise not to rebuke me.'
'You have my word, Henry.'
'Then know the worst.' He hesitated for a moment as he wrestled with some inner demon. Then he braced himself. 'Her name is Patience Holcroft.'
Christopher was astounded. 'Lady Patience Holcroft?'
'I knew that you would chide me,' protested Henry.
'It's surprise more than reproof,' said his brother. 'Her husband is a man of consequence. Sir Ralph Holcroft is a power in the land.'
'That does not entitle him to abuse his spouse. Patience only married him out of sympathy when his first wife died. He offered her all manner of inducements and swore that what he sought was companionship. Sir Ralph is thirty years her senior.'
"That gave you no right to intrude on their marriage.'
'Patience appealed for my help.'
'You were playing with fire, Henry.'
'That was part of the excitement,' said his brother wistfully. 'Surely, you understand that. Have you never cared for someone who was put beyond your reach?'
'Yes,' said Christopher, thinking of Susan Cheever, 'I confess that I have.'
'Then you'll know the wonderful thrill that danger brings, the joy of meeting in secret. Forbidden love is the highest form of pleasure.'
'I'll speak to the lady.'
'Be careful with her, Christopher. Ask her not to think badly of me.'
'From what you say, her regrets concern Signor Maldini. But do not worry. I'll impress upon her that you are completely innocent. It will be the way to win her confidence.'
Henry was agitated. 'Nobody else must know about this.'
'I'll be as close as the grave.'
'Find some way to muzzle Captain Harvest. We must not let him blurt out her name. And most of all,' he pleaded, 'do not let Father get wind of this. He has enough reasons already to disown his elder son.'
'Father would never disown you, Henry.'
'Does he know of my arrest?'
'I felt obliged to write to him.' His brother's face was contorted with pain. 'It could not be kept from him, Henry, and I wanted him to hear it from me rather than from someone else. I, at least, was able to assure him of your innocence.'
'He'll be on his way to London even now.'
'I expect that he will.'
'Help me!' implored Henry, grabbing him. 'Please keep Father away from me.'
Christopher shook his head. 'Only God could do that.'
It was some years since the Reverend Algernon Redmayne had been in the saddle. Since his elevation to the Deanery, he felt that riding a horse was beneath his dignity and only travelled by coach or, at the very least, by pony cart. None were available at short notice and the situation called for an immediate response. As soon as he read Christopher's letter, the old man confided in his bishop, was given permission to leave and, in the interests of safety, joined a party of merchants who were on their way to London. It was the fastest way to reach the capital but, as he soon discovered, it was also the most uncomfortable. Muscles that had grown slack with age now ached and burned. Buttocks that invariably had a cushion beneath them when he sat in the cathedral were bounced and bruised until he was in agony. The Dean rode on without complaint.
During their second day on the road, they paused near a stream to water the horses and stretch their legs. One of the merchants watched the old man dismount in obvious pain. He took pity on him.
'We are riding too hard for you,' he said solicitously.
'No, no,' replied the Dean. 'I can keep up.'
'Perhaps you should move at a more sedate pace. When we reach the next town, wait for travellers who are in less of a hurry to reach London.'
'I prefer your company, sir.'
'But we are men of business with a need to get there soon.'
'I, too, have my needs,' said the old man. 'And I'll not be deflected by any aches and pains. In some ways, I welcome them.'
The merchant was amazed. 'You welcome them?'
'Indeed, I do.'
'But you've been in distress since we left Gloucester. You can barely walk.'
'It's a judgment on me,' said the Dean, 'and I accept God's punishment gladly.'
'Why should He punish a man like you?'
'That is what I am going to London to find out. And I mean to get there, sir,' he added with fierce determination. 'Even if I have to be tied across the saddle.'
Chapter Nine
Christopher Redmayne left the prison in a daze. The visit had been a revelation. His faith in Henry's innocence had not wavered but he wished that his brother had been more honest from the start. It was disturbing to hear it confirmed that the real cause of enmity with the fencing master had been rivalry for the hand of a woman, and it was even more alarming to discover her name. Lady Patience Holcroft was a noted beauty, a young lady of good family, who had dismayed her many admirers by accepting a proposal from a most unlikely suitor. In choosing Sir Ralph Holcroft, she had married wealth and political influence, making light of the substantial difference in their years and, it had seemed, enjoying her new status in society. Christopher did not mix in the same circles as the couple but even he had heard the gossip about the crusty old politician with the radiant young wife. Envy and curiosity kept that gossip bubbling away.
That his brother was involved with the lady was deeply worrying to Christopher. He could imagine how they met, for Henry mixed with the elite of society, and he could easily understand why he conceived a passion for her. What baffled him was that Patience Holcroft took the slightest interest in him, let alone reached the stage of requiting his love. Henry had had many dalliances in the past and his brother took care to know as little about them as possible. As a rule, they followed a familiar course from infatuation to conquest, and on to bitter recrimination. It pained Christopher to admit that, in matters of the heart, his brother had the ruthlessness of a true rake, luxuriating in the chase for its own sake before casting the object of his affection carelessly aside. This had patently not been t
he case with Patience Holcroft. Genuine love was actually involved for once. Henry was truly committed to the lady. To have her stolen away from him must have been a harrowing experience. It was no wonder that he harboured a grudge against Jeronimo Maldini.
As he walked home, Christopher wished that the lady could have been anyone else but Lady Holcroft. Her marital situation made it impossible for him to approach her directly. The irony was that she lived in a magnificent house in Fleet Street that he would pass on his way to Fetter Lane but he could hardly present himself at her front door. If her husband were there, Christopher could find himself in an embarrassing position and, even if he were not, the servants would be so loyal to their master that they would report the visit of a man with a name that had acquired a sudden notoriety. Henry Redmayne's arrest made his brother an outcast in the eyes of those who assumed the prisoner's guilt before it was proved in court. If Henry's relationship with the wife of Sir Ralph Holcroft were to come to light, there would be a huge scandal. Christopher knew that immense tact was required.
What Henry had flatly refused to tell his brother was how he had developed the acquaintance with Lady Holcroft into something far deeper. An intermediary must have been used and secret assignations made. Where had they taken place and who had carried messages between the two lovers? It was puzzling. Christopher was reminded that Henry's courtship had been ruined by the intervention of a rival. That raised the question of how Jeronimo Maldini contrived to meet and ensnare the lady. He had none of Henry's connections yet he managed somehow to supplant him in Lady Holcroft's affections. How were their secret meetings arranged and why did the Italian tire of her? Evidently, there was a way to communicate with her somehow. Christopher had to find it.
Inevitably, his thoughts turned to Susan Cheever. The few snatched moments he had shared with her in Richmond had given him the most intense pleasure. Whatever happened to his brother, she had emphasized, would make no difference to her feelings about Christopher. It was the most heartening news he had received since the arrest. Sir Julius Cheever had turned his back on the architect, as had Brilliana Serle and her husband, but Susan's fidelity was unshaken. In order to see him, she had risen at dawn and sneaked out of the house to the stables. A grave risk had been taken on his behalf and that added a decided spice to their encounter. Henry had talked about the thrill of the forbidden. Given the fact that he had savoured that thrill himself, his brother could hardly blame him for following the dictates of his heart. Susan Cheever might not be married to a politician of high standing but she was being deliberately kept away from Christopher. There was a deep satisfaction in being able to circumvent the efforts of her family.
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