Lords of Misrule (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 4)

by Stella Riley

  He bowed over her hand and said how pleased he was to have an opportunity to further their acquaintance. Lydia caught a calculating glint behind his easy smile and decided it suggested an ulterior motive.

  For his part, Ellis saw a slender woman in unflattering black whose dark-brown hair was virtually hidden by an even more unflattering widow’s cap. Her light blue eyes were fringed with long, silky lashes but their expression was a little too acute for his taste and the tilt of her chin suggested obstinacy. All in all, he found her ordinary.

  Settling herself by the fire and accepting a small glass of wine, Lydia said, ‘Do you live in London, Sir Ellis … or do you merely have business here at present?’

  ‘The latter – and very tedious it is, too. On the other hand, it’s given me the opportunity to make new friends as well as seeing old ones.’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled invitingly. ‘Just how long have you and Aubrey been acquainted?’

  If she hadn’t been watching carefully she would have missed their brief exchange of glances. Then Aubrey said tersely, ‘A few weeks.’

  ‘Not very long, perhaps,’ interposed Ellis smoothly, ‘but long enough to discover how many things we have in common.’

  Such as what? she thought acidly. Which are the best taverns and whether cards are more fun than dice? But said instead, ‘A meeting of minds? How nice.’

  In an attempt to take control of the conversation, Aubrey said, ‘I was telling Ellis a little about your business projects.’

  ‘A very little,’ said Ellis, bathing her in an appreciative brown gaze. ‘I’d love to hear more.’

  I doubt that. You just want to stop me asking questions.

  ‘It’s very simple really.’ And she calmly disposed of the doings in Duck Lane and Strand Alley in four brief sentences.

  ‘Remarkable. And the gratitude of those you help must be enormously rewarding.’

  ‘It is. But I don’t do it for that. I do it to see them regain some self-respect.’ Lydia decided to find out if, as she suspected, the fellow was trying to charm her. ‘Do you know, sir … aside from my late husband and my brother, I believe you are the first person who has been able to appreciate the point of my endeavours.’

  ‘You surprise me. Surely anyone can see that you’re doing something both necessary and worthwhile.’

  ‘Margaret and Joseph can’t,’ remarked Aubrey.

  ‘No – that is perfectly true.’ Lydia took a sip of wine and surveyed Sir Ellis over the rim of her glass. ‘I promised myself I’d remain with Stephen’s family throughout my year of full mourning but it isn’t always … comfortable.’

  ‘God, Lyd – it hasn’t been remotely comfortable since Stephen died. Nowadays, if it isn’t Margaret nagging and complaining, it’s those wretched girls of hers. The only time they’re not arguing is when one or the other of them is trailing round after me.’

  Lydia frowned slightly.

  ‘You’re saying Kitty has started trying to engage your attention?’

  ‘From time to time. But she only does it to annoy Janet.’

  Ellis laughed.

  ‘Are you sure about that? Two young girls living in the same house as a good-looking man who is only a very distant relation … well, it must be something of a temptation.’

  Aubrey coloured slightly. ‘It’s not. The older one fancies being Lady Durand and the younger just enjoys annoying her sister. It’s nothing to do with me personally.’

  Privately, Lydia thought that he might be mistaken about that. Tall and loose-limbed, Aubrey was twenty-five years old and had eyes as blue as a summer sky. Janet and Kitty might be stupid – but they weren’t blind. However, because they had strayed from the point, she said, ‘And you, Sir Ellis? Are you married?’

  ‘No. I am not.’ He leaned back in his chair, the perfect picture of effortless grace and looking deep into her eyes. ‘I was once betrothed … but the war made marriage impossible. And since then I suppose I haven’t met the right lady.’

  Lydia had the uncomfortable feeling that the words ‘Until now’ were lingering in the air – for which she could think of only one explanation. In the hope of finally discovering something useful, she said, ‘That is a pity. I imagine you would like a son to continue your name and inherit your family home.’

  ‘Unfortunately, my family home went the same way as my erstwhile bride,’ he replied carelessly. And then, as if regretting the remark, added, ‘But many men are in far worse case than I. At least I have all my limbs and sufficient funds to live in reasonable comfort.’

  Oh my God, thought Lydia, aghast. So that’s it. Why on earth didn’t I guess?

  * * *

  The moment Sir Ellis sauntered out of the house, Lydia rounded on her brother and said, ‘He’s a Royalist, isn’t he? Isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Aubrey sulkily. ‘But --’

  ‘And Colonel Gerard … he’s one, too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And how many others? How many other Cavaliers are you associating with?’

  ‘A few. Not that many.’

  Lydia raised a hand to her head and stared at him in mingled anger and disbelief.

  ‘Are you completely insane? After what happened to us because you and Father fought in the second war and knowing that Royalists are arrested all the time on the slimmest of pretexts … don’t you know the risk you’re running?’

  ‘You make too much of it. It’s just a handful of fellows, sharing the same views. We talk – that’s all. We haven’t done anything.’

  ‘You’re not listening,’ she snapped. ‘You don’t need to do anything. If any of these new friends of yours are known to the authorities, it’s possible that they are being watched. And if they’re seen meeting on a regular basis, it could be assumed they’re plotting.’

  ‘They’re not,’ he said hurriedly. And thought, Not really.

  ‘That’s not the point. The assumption is enough. And if you’re seen with them, you’ll be tarred with the same brush. For God’s sake, Aubrey – you know how things are. At the first sign of any trouble, Thurloe’s men start rounding up all and sundry.’

  ‘You’re exaggerating. And don’t try telling me you wouldn’t like to see the King back on his throne – because I know you damned well would!’

  ‘All right. Yes. I would. But it’s not going to happen. Worcester proved that.’ She drew an exasperated breath. ‘It’s time to face reality, Aubrey. If His Majesty at the head of an army couldn’t succeed – what chance do you think wishful thinking in the tavern has got?’

  ‘Gerard and the rest aren’t stupid, Lyd. And Ellis says --’

  ‘I don’t much care what Ellis says. In fact, I don’t much care for Ellis at all. He’s got a very high opinion of himself and is too smooth by half.’

  ‘You’re being unfair.’ Aubrey’s mouth curled slightly. ‘He seemed very taken with you.’

  ‘Yes. And that’s another thing. What have you been telling him?’

  ‘Telling him? About you? Nothing, really.’

  ‘No? You didn’t happen to mention anything about Stephen having left me a relatively rich woman?’

  He opened his mouth, closed it again and stared at his feet.

  Lydia looked back at him in total despair.

  ‘You idiot!’ she said.

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  FOUR

  Having considered Colonel Maxwell’s list of names for three days, Secretary Thurloe said curtly, ‘Round them up next time they meet. Has Cotes supplied the date and place?’

  Eden nodded reluctantly.

  ‘The 16th at the Ship. Am I to arrest them all?’

  ‘I have decided that would be best. There’s no point in half-measures – though you’ll be able to release most within a few hours.’ The Secretary looked up for a moment. ‘You have reservations?’

  ‘Yes. Since they drink more than they talk, I think the whole exercise will be a waste of time.’

  ‘Perhaps – perhaps not. I will be the
judge of that.’

  ‘Naturally. You wish to interrogate them yourself, sir?’

  ‘I’ll see Cotes. I want to know exactly what he’s heard about this new network Edward Hyde is reputedly forming. But you can take care of the rest. See what you can get and furnish me with detailed reports.’ He turned back to his work. ‘Thank you, Colonel. That will be all.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Spinning on his heel, Eden left the room in the same irritable frame of mind he had entered it. He’d considered pointing out the advantages of picking up the so-called plotters separately from their various homes or lodgings so that none of them would be sure who else had been brought in. And if he’d ever known Thurloe take notice of anything he said, he might have done so … but, since he hadn’t, it hardly seemed worth the effort.

  He did, however, make one very firm decision. Tomorrow, at the first opportunity, he was going to seek an interview with Major-General Lambert.

  Back in his office, he sent for his Major and issued the necessary orders.

  Ned Moulton had known Colonel Maxwell for a long time and had fought under him until a severe wound had forced him to be shipped out just prior to the battle of Dunbar. Now, easing his stiff leg into a marginally more comfortable position, he said, ‘Are any of them of particular interest?’

  ‘I doubt it. The ones most likely to be are John Gerard and Roger Whitley – both of whom are related to Lord Gerard, currently in Paris with the court-in-exile. Another is Gabriel Brandon’s half-brother who, to the best of my knowledge, is a buffoon. As to the rest – aside from Roger Cotes who, being Thurloe’s man, will get a private interview upstairs – they’re a collection of nobodies. But the Secretary wants them all questioned – so we’ll question them. Then I can spend many happy hours writing yet more tedious reports which will, in all likelihood, tell us nothing we don’t know already.’

  Major Moulton grinned.

  ‘I can see,’ he said, ‘that you’re overjoyed at the prospect.’

  ‘I’d rather have my fingernails torn out,’ replied Eden. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t have that choice.’

  * * *

  On the evening the arrests were to be made, Eden sat in his office staring at the wall and trying to reach some decision about his personal life. It was becoming clear that he had to do something because, though on the surface nothing had changed, beneath it, everything had. For the last week, Deborah had not come to his room and neither had he asked her to. He couldn’t. Until he’d worked out what he was going to do, it felt awkward and wrong. And Deborah, of course, would know that – just as she always did.

  From two corridors away, he heard voices and the tramp of feet.

  Here we go, he thought wearily. And then, with a flicker of dark humour, But how remiss of me. I forgot to order the red-hot pincers.

  Major Moulton appeared in the doorway.

  Eden stood up and said, ‘Who have we got?’

  ‘The men you mentioned and eight others.’

  ‘There are eleven of them?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’ He handed over a scrap of paper on which he’d scribbled the names of those he’d arrested. ‘A couple of your fellows below stairs are writing this out properly and taking details of where they all lodge and I’ve left four troopers keeping order. So … where do you want to start?’

  ‘With the minnows. We’ll save the bigger fish until last.’ Eden scanned the paper. ‘Have them send up Bunce, Ross, Horton, Mynott and Durand, in that order. And you can sit in with me yourself.’ He grinned wryly. ‘It’s going to be a long night and I don’t see why I should be the only one to suffer.’

  The next hour went by precisely as Colonel Maxwell had expected and produced no surprises. Dr Ross, along with Messrs Bunce, Mynott and Horton all protested their complete ignorance of treasonable doings. They had merely spent a few sociable evenings in various taverns where they had occasionally and purely by chance bumped into other gentlemen with whom they had only the most superficial acquaintance. Eden knew it wasn’t quite as innocent as they tried to make it sound – but, equally, he was prepared to accept that they didn’t know anything because he didn’t believe there was anything to know.

  He ordered the four gentlemen to be detained over-night and released in the morning. Then he took a long, searching look at Sir Aubrey Durand.

  Young, he thought. Too young to have fought in the first war … but old enough for the second? And right now, he’s nervous. Good. He should be.

  Aubrey met the impersonal, hazel regard calmly enough but he could feel his palms starting to sweat. He wished the fellow would say something before he broke the silence himself and said something stupid.

  Finally, Colonel Maxwell said, ‘Sir Aubrey … how well-acquainted are you with Colonel Gerard and Sir Ellis Brandon?’

  It wasn’t the question Aubrey had been expecting. As casually as he could, he said, ‘Barely at all. I don’t think I’ve met them more than twice.’

  Another long, unnerving silence. Then, gently, ‘That’s not quite true, is it?’

  ‘No. I mean yes. I think it is.’

  ‘Then I suggest you reconsider.’ Eden toyed idly with a quill. ‘I doubt you are enjoying this … and it will be over faster if you tell me the truth. Now. How well do you know Gerard and Brandon?’

  He can’t know anything, thought Aubrey. It isn’t possible. Is it?

  Shrugging, he said, ‘As I said – not well at all. Though it’s possible I’ve run across them more often than I thought. I really don’t recall.’

  ‘Indeed. And do you also not recall the Colonel and Sir Ellis spending an evening in your home?’ He consulted one of the papers in front of him. ‘Clerkenwell, isn’t it? Just off John Street? And … ah yes. On Friday, the third of this month, I believe?’

  Something unpleasant lurched inside Aubrey’s chest and he remembered what Lydia had said about the authorities watching known Royalists. If, as it now seemed, they’d been watching Gerard and Brandon, further denial was only going to make his current situation worse.

  Clearing his throat, he said, ‘I do recall it, yes. But it was just that one occasion and there was no particular significance to it. They took a glass of wine with my sister and me.’

  ‘And talked about what?’

  ‘That murder in the New Exchange. My sister was interested and she asked the Colonel about what happened.’

  ‘I see. And doubtless your sister … what is her name, by the way?’

  Aubrey’s mouth went dry. ‘Lydia N-Neville.’

  Colonel Maxwell wrote it down.

  ‘And she could confirm this conversation?’

  ‘Yes.’ Aubrey swallowed hard, trying not to panic at the thought of Lydia being brought before this intimidating man. ‘But there’s no need to involve her in this. It’s as I said. Sir Ellis and Colonel Gerard drank wine and talked about the murder. That’s all.’

  ‘If it really is all,’ said Eden, his tone still completely bereft of expression, ‘why did you try to conceal it?’

  ‘Because I don’t know why I’m here! Under those circumstances, what would you do?’

  ‘I think I would probably work on the assumption that the arrest of myself and my friends is not a random act,’ remarked Eden aridly. He left the words to hang in the air for a moment and then said, ‘As for not knowing why you are here … why don’t you take a guess?’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘That’s disappointing. But perhaps you’re just averse to stating the obvious.’

  Aubrey was beginning to find Colonel Maxwell’s urbane manner even more alarming than his questions. He searched his mind for something – anything – he could say that would get him out of this room and home before daylight. Then, failing, he said, ‘All right. Clearly, Sir Ellis and the Colonel are of some interest to you – so I suppose it’s because they are Royalists.’

  You suppose? thought Eden. But he merely smiled faintly and said, ‘Congratulations, Sir Aubrey. I felt sure you’d get it
right eventually.’ He paused. ‘What are your own political allegiances?’

  ‘I’ve never been part of a Royalist plot, if that’s what you were asking.’

  ‘It wasn’t.’

  Yet another silence developed while Colonel Maxwell waited. And finally Aubrey said tightly, ‘My late father fought for the late King. I myself fought briefly in the Kent rising. That’s it.’

  ‘You weren’t at Worcester?’

  ‘No. For the last five years I’ve lived with my sister in her husband’s house. He’s dead now but, aside from owning the largest pewter manufactory in London, Stephen Neville was also a well-known Presbyterian and friendly with men like Sir William Waller. If you think he’d have allowed me to go marching off to a third war --’

  ‘Thank you. The point is duly noted.’ Eden scribbled something else on the sheet containing nothing but Lydia’s name and then said, ‘Major Moulton … have the sergeant escort Sir Aubrey back downstairs and placed in custody.’

  Appalled, Aubrey said, ‘But I haven’t done anything!’

  ‘If that’s so, we won’t need to keep you long – possibly no longer than tomorrow. It will depend on Secretary Thurloe.’ Rising, Colonel Maxwell said dispassionately, ‘If you really are innocent of any wrong-doing, I have a piece of advice for you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Distance yourself from Sir Ellis Brandon. He has been involved in numerous plots over the years, none of which have gone well. In short, he’s a liability of the sort that will put you behind bars.’ And, with the merest hint of a shrug, ‘But, of course, the choice is yours.’

  Ned Moulton left the room to instruct his sergeant and re-entered it, saying, ‘That was a low trick.’

  ‘Which?’

  ‘Letting him think you’d haul his sister in here.’ And when he didn’t get a reply, ‘You wouldn’t, would you?’

  ‘No.’ Eden rolled his shoulders and let his head drop back to ease the tension in his neck. ‘But I think you misunderstand his reaction. He’s less worried about his sister being questioned than about her finding out in which puddles he’s been playing.’

  ‘You think?’