by Stella Riley
Eden laughed and shook his head.
‘We’ve met. He was in the Tower after Colchester in ’48 at the time I was posted there. Not, you’ll agree, the kind of circumstances likely to foster friendship.’
‘You hadn’t come across him before that?’
‘When he was holding Banbury Castle, you mean? No. And since he’s six or seven years younger than me, our paths never crossed before the war either. On the other hand,’ he continued reflectively, ‘he’s neither stupid nor, I would imagine, one to hold a grudge.’
‘So you’ll do it?’
‘Yes.’ Eden got to his feet and grinned wryly. ‘Let me know when Villiers is released and where I can find Compton and I’ll do my best.’
* * *
Back in Cheapside, Eden found Mr Turner explaining to no less than three disconsolate young ladies that Mr Maxwell was currently unavailable and would be so for several days. Colonel Maxwell didn’t need to ask where his brother had gone. En route for London two days before, he’d half-expected to meet Tobias riding ventre à terre in the other direction and had only been surprised by finding him still at his work-bench.
Upstairs, Nicholas was about to sit down to a very belated noon-day meal. Tossing his hat on to a chair, Eden said, ‘Gone to Thorne Ash, has he?’
Nicholas swallowed a mouthful of cold beef.
‘Apparently. I wasn’t here. He says his sister is pregnant. Did you tell him that?’
‘I didn’t need to. Toby and Tabitha communicate in ways that pass all understanding. Or ways, at least, that are beyond mine.’ He sat down and reached for a clean platter and a slice of game pie. ‘Tell me Nick … speaking as a Royalist, how would you feel about an approach from the other side of the fence?’
‘What sort of approach?’
‘The sort aimed at finding some middle ground that might lead to a less hostile relationship.’
Nicholas took his time about answering. Finally he said, ‘I’d listen.’
‘And then?’
‘That would depend on whether or not I considered the person who’d approached me to be honest and trustworthy.’
‘And assuming you were satisfied that he was both these things?’
‘Assuming that … I’d probably pass what he’d said to other men I thought might be receptive.’
Eden nodded.
‘Good. That’s what I hoped you’d say.’
‘I gather that this is your next task. Your idea or Lambert’s?’
‘Lambert’s. It might work or it might not – but it’s worth a try.’ He paused and took a bite of pie. Then, ‘I don’t suppose you know either Edward Villiers or William Compton?’
‘No.’
‘Pity. An introduction and having someone to vouch for me would have been helpful.’
‘Shouldn’t saving the King and the Duke of York from assassination be sufficient recommendation?’
‘It would be if anyone knew I’d done it – ah. I almost forgot. I met your friend Colonel Peverell while I was in Perth.’
‘Ashley?’ Nicholas stared at him. ‘What was he doing there?’
‘Gathering information for Charles Stuart. Coincidentally, he heard my name and took the opportunity to seek me out. He asked after you, of course and told me that Francis is about to become a father … after which we had quite an interesting conversation.’ Eden grinned. ‘Cordial, too – in case you were wondering.’
‘I wasn’t. I always thought you’d like him.’
Silence fell for a few minutes as both of them returned to their food. Then Eden said casually, ‘Have you seen Deborah recently?’
‘Yes. I call on her from time to time. She’s perfectly well and seems happy. Fisher’s still besotted and his children plainly adore her.’
‘She doesn’t come here?’
‘No. She sends a servant with Toby’s pies – oh. I ought to tell her he’s away. I’ll go tomorrow. So if you wanted to send her a message, I could --’
‘No. No message. Just tell her I asked after her.’ Eden helped himself to another slice of meat and changed the subject. ‘How are things going with Mistress Neville?’
Nicholas flicked him a brief, considering glance.
‘There’s been no further trouble at the lorinery and Aubrey is still in Shoreditch – though from choice rather than necessity.’
‘No one came looking for him?’
‘They came but Lydia sent them away no wiser and probably with a headache.’ Nicholas laid down his knife and pushed his platter aside. ‘As for Lydia herself, between the appalling step-daughter-in-law and the oily cousin who won’t take no for an answer, she’s --’
‘Stop,’ interposed Eden. ‘What cousin?’
‘There’s only one. The Reverend Geoffrey Neville. The family want her to marry him and are driving her demented over it – so she’s moving into a house of her own tomorrow. About time, too, if you ask me.’ He paused. ‘I gather Sir Ellis Brandon is still sniffing around.’
Eden frowned.
‘Brandon isn’t to be trusted. Does she know that?’
‘I think so – though she hasn’t said as much. And now there’s this fellow, Wakefield. I don’t know what to make of him but there’s no denying he’s a good-looking charmer of the sort women generally like.’
Eden leaned back in his chair and kept his expression perfectly bland.
‘Too much competition for you, Nick?’
‘Hardly.’ Nicholas finally decided to answer the question he was fairly sure Eden had been asking in the first place. ‘I like Lydia. I even admire her. But that’s all. Did you think there was more to it?’
‘I … wondered.’
Yes. I rather thought you did.
‘Well, there isn’t. And it wouldn’t do me much good if there was.’ Nicholas pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Lydia Neville isn’t interested in me. I rather suspect her eye has been drawn in quite another direction.’ He smiled a little and added, ‘Of course, I could be wrong. Either way, it’s not for me to give away a lady’s secrets.’
* * *
On the following day Nicholas and Trooper Buxton took a cart to John Street to collect Lydia’s belongings and also those of her brother. Margaret, Joseph and their two bickering daughters eddied around them carping, demanding to know what was being taken and generally getting in the way. Just when the noise level was reaching its peak and Lydia felt like screaming, a voice pitched to keep fifty troopers in order said blightingly, ‘Enough! This bear-garden can be heard half-way down the street.’
Instant silence as everyone turned to face the speaker.
‘Thank you,’ said Colonel Maxwell, stepping through the open doorway. ‘Good morning, Mistress Neville. If the behaviour I’ve just witnessed is normal in this household, I understand your desire to leave it.’
Lydia flushed, remembered to curtsy and opened her mouth to reply but, before she could do so, Joseph said belligerently, ‘And who the devil might you be?’
‘Eden Maxwell, Colonel and senior aide to Major-General Lambert,’ snapped Eden. Then, pointedly ignoring him, ‘Trooper Buxton – perhaps you’d escort Mistress Neville to Bishopsgate while I take your place here.’ He smiled briefly at Lydia, adding, ‘I think we’ll get on quicker without you. And, since it’s likely to be a busy day, you won’t want to start it with a headache.’
She managed not to laugh but couldn’t resist saying softly, ‘I’m happy to see you safe and well, Colonel. And thank you.’
Eden shook his head. ‘Just go. Doubtless we’ll talk later.’
Margaret stepped squarely between Lydia and the door. She said spitefully, ‘Do you think I don’t know what you’re up to? You just want somewhere you can consort with all your men whenever you like. I always knew you’d turn out to be no better than you should be – what with your fondness for trollops and gutter-scum. Like calls to like. That’s what I --’
‘’Scuse me, Miss Lydia.’ Trooper Buxton stepped in front of her and looked do
wn at Margaret with an expression of utter disgust. ‘I reckon you’ve said enough, you old cat. Move – or I’ll make you.’
Margaret spluttered incoherently but allowed her husband to pull her aside.
Lydia smiled at her with lethal sweetness.
‘Goodbye, Margaret. I shan’t expect you to visit.’
And she walked out into the sunshine.
* * *
It was, as Eden had said, a busy day.
Aubrey turned up shortly after the laden cart and joined the others in carrying chests, boxes and a few small items of furniture to the appropriate rooms. Then, when the opportunity for a private word presented itself, he said, ‘Colonel Maxwell?’
‘Yes?’
‘I – I wanted to thank you,’ he mumbled awkwardly. ‘You needn’t have helped me get away and I know you took a risk in doing so.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Eden coolly. ‘I did – and won’t do it twice. Try remembering that next time.’
‘There won’t be a next time. God knows I was uncomfortable enough with the whole business – and only got sucked into it because I liked John Gerard. Now he’s gone … well, I’m done with such things.’
‘Good. And now that’s said, you can give me a hand with this clothes chest.’
By the late afternoon, the house – though still sparsely furnished – was beginning to resemble a home and enticing smells were coming from the kitchen where Mistress Pyke was preparing a hearty meal for the workers.
Lydia seized a moment to tidy her hair and remove the voluminous apron she’d worn to protect her gown. Then she went looking for the Colonel and was lucky enough to find him alone in the room she’d chosen as her office. Shutting the door behind her, she said, ‘This is uncommonly good of you, Colonel. I’m sure you have many other more important matters demanding your attention.’
‘Not today.’ Engaged in transferring books from packing cases to shelves, Eden barely glanced round. ‘You’ll probably want to re-organise these when you have the time but I thought you’d prefer to be rid of the boxes.’
‘Yes.’ She perched on the edge of a chair, wanting to talk to him but unsure what to say. ‘How was Scotland?’
‘Wet, chilly, exhausting … and, for the most part, enjoyable.’ He stopped what he was doing to look across at her and was belatedly aware of the fact that she had dispensed with the ugly widow’s cap and was no longer wearing black. The dark brown hair contained hints of bronze and the cornflower-coloured gown intensified the winter-sky blue of her eyes. Previously, he’d thought her almost plain. She wasn’t. Surprised at himself, he pushed the thought aside and said, ‘Tell me something. Did that unpleasant female always speak to you like that?’
‘Most of the time, yes.’
‘Then I’m surprised you didn’t take the opportunity to slip some henbane into her syllabub.’
‘The temptation was almost over-whelming but I managed to resist it.’
‘I commend your will-power.’
‘Thank you.’ Lydia hesitated and blurted out, ‘It wasn’t true – what Margaret said. I don’t – I haven’t --’
‘I never thought you had,’ he interrupted, calmly obviating her need to find the right words. And with a swift, slanting grin, ‘Although, from what Nick tells me, you’re quite sought-after.’
‘Don’t!’ she groaned. ‘If you’d met Cousin Geoffrey, you wouldn’t tease me.’
‘Oh dear. That bad, is he?’
‘Worse!’
‘Ah. And Ellis Brandon and … Mr Wakefield, is it?’
‘Nicholas has been busy,’ remarked Lydia trenchantly. ‘He’d have you believe every man I meet falls victim to my fatal charm and that I’m surrounded by suitors.’
‘And aren’t you?’
‘Not unless you’d like to court me as well?’ She stopped, aghast at having let her tongue run away with her. A tide of colour washed over her face and she said abruptly, ‘That was a joke. I wouldn’t want you to think that I … that I …’
‘I don’t think it.’ Or do I? Is this what Nick was hinting at? And if it is, what – if anything – do I want to do about it? Deciding that, until he knew the answer to that question, the safest course was to change the subject, he went back to work and said easily, ‘Your brother has promised me he’ll stay out of further trouble. I trust he’s made you the same promise?’
‘Yes. He’s been working with Mr Morrell and wants to go on doing so – which I’m extremely glad about.’ She picked up a cloth and began dusting the books Eden had piled up on the desk. ‘It’s time he grew up – and this may be just what he needs.’
‘Very probably, I should think. If Jack’s prepared to train him, it’s presumably because he sees an aptitude worth nurturing. You may not know it – but he’s considered the foremost armourer in the country.’
‘Is that how you came to know him? Through his work?’
‘No. My former commanding officer is Jack’s foster-brother.’ Eden pulled out the last of the books. ‘Gabriel left London after the King’s execution and hasn’t been back since. But he’s going to be sitting in the forthcoming Parliament so I imagine he’ll visit Shoreditch at the first opportunity. And that reminds me of something I wanted to say to you, if I may?’
‘Of course. What is it?’
‘I once warned Aubrey to be wary of Ellis Brandon. For different reasons, I’d like to say the same to you. He’s sly, he manipulates the truth and he attracts trouble – usually for other people.’
‘You know him?’
‘We’ve met. But I know a great deal about him – and none of it good.’
‘How come?’
‘Because he’s Gabriel’s half-brother.’
She blinked. ‘Now I’m confused.’
‘Yes. It’s complicated. But my point is that, if Ellis asks for your hand, you should think very carefully before accepting him.’
‘I shan’t need to think at all,’ said Lydia candidly. ‘In truth, I don’t like him very much. And even if I did, I’m perfectly well-aware that he’s only interested in me because Aubrey was idiot enough to tell him that Stephen left me well-provided for.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I know money is my main attraction. Since it was the same with Cousin Geoffrey, I can hardly fail to know it.’
Eden surveyed her thoughtfully. Her hair was escaping its pins to form tiny curls around her face and he recognised that there was something very appealing about her … something that had stuck in his mind all the time he’d been away and culminated in the way he’d thought of her when he’d been at Thorne Ash. Now he realised that he’d rather like to sample that soft pink mouth – and, if he was honest with himself, quite a few other things as well. Moreover, he liked her; liked her enough to contemplate attempting to form a relationship – except that he knew he couldn’t. She was a respectable woman and was no more likely to take a lover than he was a wife … all of which meant that the only possible relationship they could ever have was that of friendship. And a cautious friendship, at that – so her reputation didn’t suffer and he didn’t raise expectations he couldn’t meet.
A voice at the back of his mind told him to be careful. He tried. Then he let a slow smile dawn and said, ‘You do yourself an injustice, Mistress Neville. You’ve also been unfortunate in meeting the wrong men. We’re not all so cold-blooded and venal, you know.’
Caught unawares by his smile and the disturbing way his eyes had lingered on her mouth, it took time for his words to penetrate the fog in Lydia’s brain. When they did, she said stupidly, ‘Yes. I mean, no. Of course. I know that.’ And, attempting to pull herself together, ‘I’m sorry. I should go. The food is probably ready and I doubt if Nancy has set the table. Excuse me.’
And she fled.
Eden watched her go.
Damn, he thought ruefully. Was that embarrassment – or something else? How the hell does one ever know? And then, I wonder what she’d have done if I’d kissed her? Screamed? Slapped my face? Or just possibly … no. Best not to thi
nk of that.
* * *
By the time her team of helpers were assembled around the table, Lydia had recovered her composure though she was still furious with herself for behaving like a witless ninny. Really, that smile of his had a lot to answer for. He probably had women falling over him in droves. Fortunately, she was too sensible to allow herself to be one of them.
During the course of conversation over a substantial supper, Eden referred in passing to the imminent arrival of Colonel Brandon and then, glancing at Nicholas and Aubrey, immediately added, ‘But do not tell Jack. Give Gabriel the chance to surprise him.’
Trooper Buxton said wistfully, ‘Colonel Brandon. Now there was a good officer, for all he could scare the hell out of you. One of the best, he was – present company excepted.’
‘Present company included, if you like,’ shrugged Eden. ‘I wouldn’t dispute it.’
‘Think he’d come to Duck Lane one day, sir? I’d like to pay my respects – and I daresay Dan Hayes would an’ all.’
Eden shook his head.
‘I’m sure the Colonel would enjoy sharing a jug of ale with you and the others – but not at the lorinery. Leave it with me, Buxton and I’ll arrange something.’ Eden stood up and reached for his hat. ‘Thank you for supper, Mistress Neville. Both the food and the company were excellent but it’s time I left.’
‘Yes. That is – of course.’
Despite knowing that she ought to avoid being alone with him again, Lydia found herself rising to show him out. He inclined his head, stood back to let her precede him and, once out of earshot of the others, said simply, ‘If I embarrassed you earlier, I apologise.’
Lydia’s nerves promptly went into spasm.
You didn’t embarrass me. I embarrassed myself – but we’ll let it pass or I’ll probably do it again.
‘There’s no need, Colonel. I was … I suppose I was just surprised. It’s of no consequence at all – so please forget about it.’ She gave him a determined smile. ‘Thank you again for your help today. I’m very grateful.’
‘No need for that either,’ remarked Eden, putting on his hat. ‘I enjoyed myself. Perhaps I could call again in a few days to see how you and Aubrey are settling in?’
