'It was so with my brother, Lady Holcroft.'
'I did not mean to hurt his feelings, Mr Redmayne.'
'He attaches no blame to you,' said Christopher. 'He looked elsewhere to do that.'
"Then he was mistaken in doing so.'
'Oh?'
'Our friendship had rim its course,' she said with a faint hint of irritation. 'The pleasure was waning, the risks seemed too great to take any more. When I explained this to Henry, he accepted it like a gentleman. That should have been an end to it. But,' she continued, pursing her lips, 'someone else came along soon afterwards and, for a number of reasons, that person aroused my curiosity.'
'May I ask how you met him, Lady Holcroft?'
'He was at Court one afternoon. His brother was one of the musicians there and he had been invited along to hear him. We met by chance,' she said, looking away, 'and that's all I'm prepared to tell you about it. Henry, I know, took a different view of it all.'
'He felt that he had been dispossessed.'
She flashed her eyes at him. 'He never possessed me, Mr Redmayne,' she said with controlled anger. 'He had no claim whatsoever upon me. I told him that a dozen times. He was nursing an illusion.'
'Henry is rather prone to do that,' admitted Christopher. 'But illusions can exert a tremendous power. In my brother's case, it provoked an extreme hatred. Not of you, Lady Holcroft - that would be unthinkable - but of the other person we are talking about.'
'Go on.'
'It made the two of them sworn enemies. They were rivals for your affection.'
'No!' she said sharply. 'What kind of person do you take me to be? I do not play one man off against another like that. Henry was never more than a friend and he ceased to be that. It was weeks before…' She broke off and took a deep breath. "This is very painful for me, Mr Redmayne. I hoped that these chapters in my life were closed. I'm afraid there's little I can add that may be of help to you.'
'Answer me this,' he said. 'Do you believe that my brother is guilty of murder?'
'I'd not be here if I believed that.'
"Thank you, Lady Holcroft. That means so much to me.'
'Henry would never hurt me deliberately,' she said, 'and I was deeply upset by that particular death. Even though my friendship with that gentleman had come to an end, I was stricken by the news. And I was even more distressed when your brother was arrested for the crime. He'd not do such a thing to me.' She lifted her chin with patrician pride. 'He'd not dare!'
Christopher began rearranging questions in his mind. Lady Holcroft was not at all the helpless victim of an Italian lover that he had been led to expect. Nor did she requite his brother's love in the manner that Henry had implied. There was a hard edge to her. She would divulge nothing that would be of use to him unless she was sure that it did not compromise her. Yet he saw a potential weakness. She had something of a temper. If he could play on that, he might find out what he wanted to know.
'Henry could not bear the way that his rival treated you, Lady Holcroft.'
'They were not rivals,' she retorted. 'Not in the sense that you mean.'
"They were, in Henry's imagination.'
"That was always far too lively, Mr Redmayne. It was one of the things that persuaded me that our friendship had to end. Your brother, alas, began to make certain assumptions.'
'About what?'
She was curt. 'That's a private matter and, in any case, no longer relevant.'
'It is to Henry. He still reveres you.'
'I've not encouraged him to do that.'
'But it explains why he was deeply upset when you were cast aside.'
'I beg your pardon!' she said with indignation.
'Henry claimed that the other gentleman took advantage of you.'
'He did nothing of the kind, sir.' Cheeks blushing, she jumped to her feet. 'I regard that as a cruel insult.'
'It was not intended to be, Lady Holcroft.'
'Neither you nor your brother know anything about that particular friendship.'
'But the gentleman did bring that friendship to a sudden end, did he not?'
'No, Mr Redmayne,' she snapped, wrestling to contain her fury. 'I did that. No man would ever cast me aside. I dispense with them.' She moved to the door. 'Good day to you, sir. I can see that I made a grave error in coming here.'
"The error was entirely of my brother's making,' he said, rushing to intercept her. 'Henry is the victim of a misunderstanding. He felt sorry for you because he thought that you were abandoned when the other gentleman tired of you.'
'It was I who tired of him and his infernal questions.'
'Questions?'
'You are standing in my way, Mr Redmayne.'
'What sort of questions did he ask?'
"The wrong ones, sir,' she said coldly. 'And you have done the same.'
Christopher stood aside. 'Thank you for coming, Lady Holcroft. I appreciate it.'
Without a word, she swept past him into the hall and out through the front door. A moment later, he heard the coach pulling away from the house. Susan came into the parlour with a look of consternation.
'Lady Holcroft has just left without me,' she said.
'That was my fault,' admitted Christopher. He gave her a warm smile. 'I suppose that I'll have to take responsibility for getting you back to your friends.'
Susan relaxed visibly. 'There's no hurry,' she said.
A cold night in Newgate had left its imprint on Pietro Maldini. On the advice of Jonathan Bale, the Italian had been locked in a cell with fifteen other prisoners, sharing their stink, deafened by their noise and recoiling from their abuse. They mocked his accent, they reviled his nation and more than one of them felt obliged to punch or jostle him. He was already in pain. The blood had been cleansed from his face but nothing could be done about the broken nose and it throbbed unmercifully. After a sleepless night, Maldini was hollow- eyed and frightened. The fierce rage that had brought him to Newgate in the first place had been drained out of him.
Jonathan had him moved to a small private room so that he could talk to him in relative comfort. Maldini was pathetically grateful even though the constable had been the person who stopped him from achieving his objective. Stripped down to shirt and breeches, he cut a forlorn figure, the once handsome face disfigured by the broken nose, the neat black beard caked with wisps of straw. They sat either side of a bare wooden table. Jonathan explained who he was and why he had come. Maldini was in a daze. His command of English was good, his accent quite pronounced.
'What will happen to me?' he asked.
'You'll have to stand trial on a charge of attempted murder, sir,' said Jonathan. 'You tried to kill Mr Redmayne and we believe that you made two attempts to kill his brother as well.'
'I had to do it. That man, he stabbed Jeronimo in the back. I want revenge.'
'People are not allowed to take the law into their own hands in this country. In any case, you attacked the wrong people. There's growing evidence to suggest that Henry Redmayne is not guilty of the murder and his brother, of course, was not involved in any way. You might have killed two completely innocent men.'
'No,' denied the other. 'Henry Redmayne, he stabbed my brother. Everyone say so. Jeronimo's friend, he told me it was true.'
'His friend?'
'Captain Harvest.'
'Ah,' said Jonathan. 'I had a feeling that he might be involved somehow.'
Speaking slowly, he told the prisoner how the soldier had been exposed as an impostor and how he was liable for arrest on a number of charges. Maldini listened with increasing discomfort. When he heard that the man was under suspicion for the murder as well, he was confused.
'No,' he said, 'this cannot be. The captain, he was Jeronimo's friend.'
'I know that he worked at the fencing school with your brother.'
'It was more than that. Jeronimo, he told me this man was a great help to him.'
'In what way, sir?'
'He did not say. My brother and me, we did n
ot speak often. Our lives, they were very different. But I still loved him,' he asserted. 'When I hear of his death, I have to get revenge. It's - what do you call it - a matter of honour?'
'I see no honour at all in trying to throttle a man to death,' said Jonathan harshly, 'especially as he may well turn out to have nothing to do with this crime.'
'But he did. He was there. He had an argument with Jeronimo.'
'So did one or two other people, by the sound of it.'
'I still think Henry Redmayne, he is the man. That's why I went in search of his brother. He stabbed my brother, I wanted to kill his.'
'How did you know where to find Christopher Redmayne?'
'I was told where he lived.'
'By the same Captain Harvest, I daresay.' Maldini nodded. 'He deliberately set you on. That means he incited murder. We have another charge to hang around his neck.'
'Jeronimo always trusted him.'
'Enough to turn his back on the man. That was his mistake.'
'This captain, he told me, was very useful to him. Jeronimo, he relied on him.'
'At the fencing school?'
'For something else. My brother, he did not tell me what it was. He liked to keep secrets. It was the same when we were boys at home in Italy. Jeronimo was very private.'
'Yet he led a very public life,' said Jonathan, perplexed. 'How much privacy can you have if you spend all day teaching pupils to fence? Your brother was surrounded by people.' He pulled a face. 'Unfortunately, the captain was one of them.'
'All I know is what Jeronimo tell me.'
The Italian shrugged his shoulders. He looked thoroughly miserable. Though he did not condone what the man had done, Jonathan nevertheless felt sorry for him. Impelled by a desire to avenge the death of his brother, he had sacrificed his own life.
'Did you meet any friends of his?' asked Jonathan.
'No, sir.'
'Did he ever mention Sir Humphrey Godden to you?'
'No, sir.'
'What about a Mr Crenlowe? He's a goldsmith.'
'Ah,' said the other, 'that name I know. My brother, he say that this man make some jewellery for him. Mr Crenlowe. That was his name.'
'Did your brother tell you who the jewellery was for?'
Maldini gestured with a hand. 'Who else but for a lady?'
Jonathan had the feeling that the man could provide valuable information about his brother but he was not certain that he was the best person to elicit it from him. Maldini needed more time to understand what was happening to him. He was still too bewildered by the turn of events. Jonathan leaned forward on the table.
'We both want the same thing,' he said. 'We want your brother's killer to hang. You tried to do the hangman's job for him and that was a terrible mistake. You were wrong about Captain Harvest being a friend. He's a criminal. And you are wrong about Henry Redmayne as well.'
'No,' protested Maldini, 'he is the one. Everybody knows it.'
'Most people think it, I agree. Those of us who know Mr Redmayne, and who have looked into this case, are certain that he's innocent. I won't try to convince you of that. I can see that it would be a waste of time. However, tell me this. If - and I only ask you to consider it - if someone else stuck that knife in your brother's back, would you help us to catch him?'
'Yes, of course. But the killer has already been arrested.'
'On false evidence in my view,' said Jonathan. 'That's why his brother is moving heaven and earth to prove his innocence. You can understand that, I think. You know how it feels when you think a brother has been cruelly wronged.'
'Oh, yes,' said the other, knuckles tightening. 'I would have done anything for Jeronimo.'
'You've already done too much.'
Maldini's head fell to his chest. Jonathan felt another surge of pity. The Italian was young, strong and lithe with a promising career as a musician ahead of him. All that had been squandered. Jonathan sought to relieve his suffering a little.
'Where did you spend the night?' he said.
'With a pack of wild animals,' replied Maldini, looking up. 'It was torture.'
'I might be able to get you moved to a cell on your own. Would you like that?'
'Yes, please! Those others, they drive me mad,'
'I'll speak to the prison sergeant.'
Maldini grabbed his arm. "Thank you, Mr Bale. Thank you, sir.'
'But I expect a favour in return, mark you.'
'A favour?'
'I want you to talk to Christopher Redmayne.'
Maldini withdrew his hand in disgust and spat on to the floor.
The meeting with Lady Holcroft had been less enlightening than he had hoped but Christopher had the supreme consolation of spending an hour alone with Susan Cheever. At no point did she press him about his reason for a secret rendezvous with Lady Holcroft and he was grateful for that. She felt able to confide in him her worries that Mrs Cardinal was showing an interest in her as a possible future wife for her son and assuring him that, while she admired Jack Cardinal, she would never choose him as her partner in life. He was tempted to reveal his own dilemma with regard to Lady Whitcombe but he drew back, still hoping that he could resolve that particular problem.
'What will I tell Mrs Cardinal when I get back to the house?' she asked.
'Tell her that you and Lady Holcroft went for a ride in the coach.'
'She's bound to press for details.'
'Invent some,' said Christopher cheerfully. 'Lady Holcroft will not contradict you. I suspect she'll pretend that this morning did not really take place. The main thing is to get you back before Mrs Cardinal and her son return.'
'Yes,' she agreed, sad to leave. 'I suppose so.'
'I'm deeply grateful to the lady. After all, she brought you to London.' 'She did, Christopher. If the situation were different, I could like her very much. But she will watch me all the time, just like Brilliana. It's almost as if they have a secret pact to marry me off, and I hate it when people try to make decisions for me.'
'I'd never presume to do that.'
'Thank you.' She turned round so that he could put her cloak around her shoulders. 'It's been wonderful to see you again,' she said, facing him again, 'but I know that you have to get back to helping your brother. How is he? I heard his name mentioned more than once at the dinner table yesterday. The comments were not flattering.'
'They will be when Henry is exonerated.'
'How close are you to proving his innocence?'
'Jonathan Bale and I get closer every day, Susan,' he said. 'I've managed to win over the most difficult man to persuade.'
'Who is that?'
'Jonathan himself. He thought at first that Henry was guilty.'
"That must have made for some awkwardness between the two of you.'
'Oh, it did,' he agreed, 'but friendship is an odd thing. It sometimes thrives on differences of opinion. At least, I felt that it did in this case.'
'Does he know that you were coming here today?'
'No, Susan. It was something that even he could not be told about. And he never will. I promised Lady Holcroft in my letter that nobody else would ever be aware that our meeting took place. Apart from you, that is.'
'I can be very discreet.'
'That's why I turned to you.' He gave her a smile of gratitude then remembered what he had been told earlier by Lady Holcroft. 'May I please ask you something?'
'Of course.'
"This is purely a suggestion,' he explained, 'and relates to nobody in particular. Suppose that a certain lady, married and of good reputation, permitted a gentleman to pay court to her in strictest privacy.'
'Yes,' said Susan, 'I can readily imagine that.'
'And suppose that she decided to bring their friendship to a sudden end.'
'Why should she do that?'
'Because he pestered her with questions.' 'Questions?'
'Infernal questions,' he said. 'What sort of questions would annoy a lady most in those circumstances? In short, what would
she be least willing to talk about?'
'That's easy to answer,' replied Susan. 'Her husband.'
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
When he visited the prison that morning, the Reverend Algernon Redmayne was in a more compassionate mood. Instead of condemning his elder son for his past sins, he brought fresh food and a degree of comfort into the cell. Henry had never seen his father in such a benign state. For his part, the Dean was pleased that his son had taken some pains with his appearance. Henry had washed, shaved and donned the change of apparel that his brother had taken to him. He had even combed his thinning hair into a semblance of order. It no longer looked as if he had just come in from a howling gale.
'Christopher told me about the vicious attack on you, Henry,' said his father. 'It's unforgivable that such a thing should happen. I'll speak to the authorities myself.'
'I was rescued just in time, Father.'
'So I hear. I'll give my personal thanks to this doughty constable.'
'As long as you do not try to engage him in theological debate,' warned Henry. 'You'd find him a stubborn parishioner. Mr Bale is a resolute Puritan.'
'The fellow is also a hero and I salute him for that.'
The Dean insisted on hearing a full description of the attempt on his son's life and Henry was only too willing to give it. His father offered him uncritical sympathy so rarely that he intended to exploit it to the full. He embroidered the tale to make the ordeal seem even worse than it was. Enfolding his son in his arms, the Dean offered up a prayer of thanksgiving. There were tears in his eyes.
'You've walked in the valley of the shadow of death,' he said.
'It's difficult to walk anywhere when someone is trying to strangle you.'
'What went through your mind, Henry?'
'Nothing at all.'
'Did you not think that your end was nigh?'
'Of course, Father.'
'And did you not cry out to God for his aid?'
'I could not say a word,' replied Henry, rubbing his neck. 'The cord was so tight that I could do little but gurgle. I was terrified. I believed that I was going to die and I felt desperately unready.'
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