by Stella Riley
‘It’s usually the case. They never want their womenfolk to know what they’re doing. That might be because they don’t trust their discretion or – as I think more likely – because they know how much trouble they’ll be in at home if their antics come to light. And Sir Aubrey is new to the game. As you’ll see later, the experienced players know better than to simply deny everything. They understand that, if they’ve been brought here, it’s because we already have certain information. So they admit to anything that’s of no consequence and they launch into long, inconsequential rigmaroles designed to confuse the issue. Sir Aubrey,’ he concluded simply, ‘has a great deal to learn if he plans to pursue the path he’s just stepped on.’
The Major eyed him thoughtfully.
‘You know who his sister is, don’t you?’
‘No. Should I?’
‘I’d have thought so. She owns the lorinery in Duck Lane that employs crippled soldiers from either side – and only them. At least two men you’d remember work there. And if this,’ he tapped his injured leg, ‘had been any worse than it was, it’s the kind of place I might have ended up myself.’
The hazel eyes narrowed as Eden tried to recall something Nicholas had said to him. Then, failing, he shrugged and said, ‘If that’s so, I’m surprised her brother didn’t mention it.’
‘If he wasn’t intent on keeping his sister out of all this, he might have,’ replied Ned. Then, ‘The advice you gave him about Ellis Brandon …?’
‘Was well-meant,’ came the terse reply. ‘Let’s get on, shall we? In fact, let’s have Sir Ellis up next.’
Although, thanks to Gabriel, Eden knew quite a lot about Ellis Brandon, this was the first time he’d actually met the man. Now, watching him saunter into the room amidst a positive fog of careless bravado, he absorbed the glories of the single ear-ring, the artfully curled lovelocks and the tawny velvet coat … and had to smother a smile. Gabriel had once remarked that amongst his half-brother’s numerous character flaws was an ego the size of Yorkshire. Eden decided it might be fun to exploit that.
He said, ‘Sit down, Sir Ellis. Perhaps you might begin by telling me why you are in London at this time – aside from the obvious, of course.’
‘And perhaps you might begin by having the courtesy to introduce yourself.’ Ellis lounged in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. ‘I would also like an explanation of this ridiculous and extremely annoying inconvenience. Well?’
Eden subjected him to a long, cool stare. Really, the man was just asking for trouble.
‘I am Colonel Maxwell, currently serving as one of Secretary Thurloe’s senior aides. And you, sir, are under arrest for possible complicity in a Royalist plot. How long we will find it necessary to detain you will depend, to a large degree, on how cooperative I find you.’ He waited to let this sink in and to see if Brandon had recognised his name. When it was clear that he hadn’t, Eden returned to his original question. ‘I asked why you are in London. It would be sensible to answer.’
‘My business here is no concern of yours.’
‘I fear we may disagree on that point. For example … not so very long ago, you were involved in the making of false coin, were you not?’
Shock rippled across Ellis’s face and for a moment he suddenly looked a great deal less composed. Then, summoning anger as a shield, he said, ‘That is completely untrue!’
‘Really?’
‘Without doubt! Where did you get such a preposterous notion?’
Eden took his time about replying. Then he said gently, ‘As it happens, I got it from your half-brother.’
‘What?’
‘Quite.’ Another pause. ‘Perhaps I should have mentioned that I had the privilege of serving under Colonel Brandon and am therefore aware that I may place absolute faith in his word.’
Some of the colour drained from Ellis’s skin and one hand closed convulsively on the arm of his chair. He said, ‘The bastard can’t prove it – and neither can you.’
‘You know, you really aren’t helping yourself,’ sighed Eden. ‘Firstly, while in my presence, you will speak of the Colonel with more respect. Secondly, I’m sure he would be willing to testify that you repaid a debt to his lady wife with counterfeit coins. And thirdly, I saw those coins myself. Well?’
Ellis raised a hand as if to tug at his collar and then thought better of it.
‘I didn’t … that is, the coins you speak of were passed to me by – by a third party. I wasn’t aware that they weren’t genuine.’ He swallowed and then said rapidly, ‘You didn’t have me brought here for this. So why don’t you get on with your real reason?’
‘Oh I will. Have no doubts on that score. But I think you will be more disposed to be helpful when you’ve had a little more time to consider. Major Moulton … have Sir Ellis taken back below and ask them to send Captain Dutton up.’
Ellis remained in his seat, eyes narrowed in fury.
‘You can’t keep me here indefinitely.’
‘Actually, I can,’ replied Eden pleasantly. ‘Fortunately however, I don’t have to endure your company while I do so. Major?’
* * *
They worked steadily on through the night and into the early hours of the morning. By the time it was finally the turn of Colonel Gerard, Eden’s eyes felt full of grit and Ned was struggling with cramp. Neither of them let it show.
‘Colonel Maxwell!’ said Gerard with a surprised smile. ‘I had no idea it was you I was to have the pleasure of seeing. How are you?’
‘After hours of listening to drivel? Pretty much as you might expect,’ returned Eden. ‘Please sit down, Colonel … and do us both the favour of keeping this brief and to the point.’
‘Certainly. You want to know why I and the others you arrested have been meeting and whether we’ve hatched some sinister plot. Yes?’
‘Yes. And?’
‘We are – as you’re perfectly well-aware – all Royalist sympathisers of the minor variety. We have no influence, no authority, no money and no little army hiding in the shadows. So we gather together in the tavern from time to time and enjoy wallowing in nostalgia. You know the kind of thing. Numerous toasts to the King and recollections of better days; much airing of grievances and a great deal of wishful thinking.’ Pausing, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘From time to time, we even say rude things about the Protector. Very rude things, if I’m to be completely honest.’ He sat back again and added cheerfully, ‘But, since you didn’t hear us saying them, you can’t arrest us for that, can you?’
Eden suppressed a twinge of amusement – the first he’d felt throughout this very long night.
He said, ‘So, Colonel. You haven’t been plotting disturbances? No apprentice riots, for example – or other ways of seizing the City?’
‘Oh – that.’ Gerard’s expression gathered a hint of mild despair. ‘Someone – I don’t recall who – came up with that sorry idea and, once they got sufficiently drink-sodden, a few of the fellows discussed it as if it was a viable possibility.’ He shook his head. ‘Fortunately, sense prevailed when they sobered up.’
You’re very good at this, aren’t you? thought Eden dryly. Candid, plausible, relaxed … your whole demeanour so exactly right. You, my friend, are the only man I’ve met tonight who is actually worth watching.
‘When did you last see Lord Gerard?’ he asked, knowing the answer and wanting to see if the Colonel would tell the truth.
‘Last autumn. October, I think it was – some weeks before the debacle at the Exchange.’
The right answer. Are you being sensible … or have you guessed there’s a spy in your camp?
‘Do the two of you communicate?’
‘No. Cousin Charles is too busy with his own affairs to have much interest in a very junior member of the family.’
That might be true or it might not. We haven’t intercepted anything – but things slip the net from time to time.
Eden stood up, fully aware that he could try half a dozen dif
ferent tacks and get precisely nowhere. He said, ‘I think that’s all for now, Colonel – though I’m afraid you’ll be our guest for some little while.’
‘Of course.’ Gerard also rose, smiling a little. ‘May I thank you for your courtesy, sir?’
‘By all means. Just don’t count on it lasting if you’re brought before me again.’
‘I’ll remember that … if I am.’
After the prisoner had been sent back downstairs, Major Moulton lifted an enquiring brow and said, ‘I noticed you didn’t warn him about Ellis Brandon.’
‘No. He’s a clever fellow and, despite his youth, remarkably astute – so I’m sure he’ll work it out for himself eventually. And, should he ever actually put a plot in motion, Brandon’s presence in it can only be to our advantage.’
* * *
Downstairs in a cold and rather dank part of the building, Aubrey Durand shared his accommodation with Roger Cotes, Mr Bunce and Dr Ross. By common consent, since there was no saying who might be listening, none of them spoke. So Aubrey hugged his cloak around himself and tried not to let his various worries escalate into full-blown panic.
He wondered how long they’d keep him there and whether he’d end up in the Tower. He hoped against hope that the fellow upstairs wouldn’t decide he wanted to speak to Lydia. And he tried to figure out how – if and when he was finally released – he was going to explain all of this at home.
None of these thoughts were pleasant company but, like unwanted guests, they refused to leave. Across the room, Aubrey could hear somebody snoring. Given their current situation, he couldn’t imagine how anybody could possibly sleep. He certainly couldn’t. He just wanted to be sick.
~ * * ~ * * ~
FIVE
At home in Clerkenwell, Lydia didn’t realise that Aubrey hadn’t been seen since the previous day until she returned from Strand Alley in the early part of the afternoon and Nancy informed her that his bed hadn’t been slept in.
‘And he hasn’t been home this morning?’
Nancy shook her head.
‘No, Miss Lydia. I thought maybe he might have spent the night with a friend, then gone straight off to his work – so I sent Tam over to the pewter manufactory but he says they haven’t seen him neither.’
Certain unpleasant possibilities crowded Lydia’s mind. She told herself that there could be many reasons why Aubrey hadn’t come home. He might have spent the night with a woman. Although it was never mentioned, she was aware that he did that sometimes. Or he could have drunk too much and ended up sleeping it off on someone’s floor. Those were her preferred options. Other less acceptable ones included the possibility that he’d been attacked and left for dead in some alleyway … or arrested along with his Royalist friends. Lydia discovered that she felt slightly unsteady.
She said, ‘For now, we can’t do anything except wait. But if he’s not back by supper … well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. In the meantime, don’t mention his absence to anyone and let me know immediately if he turns up. I shan’t leave the house until we know.’
‘Right you are, Miss Lydia,’ said Nancy comfortingly. ‘It’ll be all right, I’m sure.’
I wish I was, thought Lydia.
Three hours later, still without any sign of Aubrey, she had given up trying to add columns of figures and was reduced to lurking in the small parlour because it offered a view of the hall. And that was how, at a little past five o’clock, she saw her errant brother sidle through from the door to the kitchens, plainly hoping to avoid being seen.
Lydia shot into the hall to cut off his escape and, in a furious undertone, said, ‘Where have you been? Did it never occur to you that I might be worried?’
‘Sorry,’ muttered Aubrey. ‘I’d have sent you a message but --’
‘Stop. Not one more word. We’ll speak of this where we can’t be overheard, if you don’t mind.’
Aubrey did mind. He was hungry, tired and dirty. He was also aware that, if he could have reached his chamber undetected, he might have had some chance of talking his way out of this. He said, ‘I’ll be with you in half an hour or so, Lyd. I just want to clean myself up a bit first.’
‘That can wait. I can’t.’
And she set off up the stairs, leaving him with little option but to trail behind her.
Once inside her room with the door securely bolted, she said, ‘What happened? And don’t even think of lying to me because you know I can always tell.’
He sighed, tossed his cloak over a chair and sat down on the window-seat.
‘I imagine – since you predicted it – that you can guess what happened.’
Lydia dropped on the edge of her bed.
‘You were arrested?’
‘Yes.’
‘Just you?’
‘No. Nearly a dozen of us.’
She wrapped one hand hard around the other.
‘Did – did they hurt you?’
‘No. It was fairly civil, actually.’ Except that it hadn’t felt that way at the time. ‘We were all questioned individually and then held overnight. A couple of fellows were released earlier this morning; I got out about an hour ago; and some of the others are still there.’
‘Who did the questioning? Secretary Thurloe?’
‘No. An Army officer. A Colonel, I think – though he didn’t trouble to introduce himself.’ This had the advantage of being true and made it unnecessary to admit that, thanks to the troopers guarding his cell, he knew the Colonel’s name well enough. ‘I can’t say I liked him much – but at least he kept it short.’
‘And you’d like me to do the same? Yes. I’ve gathered that.’
‘I’d like you to recognise that I’ve had a hell of a night and just want to wash, change my clothes and eat,’ he replied, coming to his feet. ‘If you must have a word-for-word account, I’ll recite it for you later. Meanwhile --’
‘Aubrey – no!’ Lydia also stood up and planted herself in front of him. ‘Can’t you see that this is too important to just brush aside? You’re the only family I’ve got – and I’m frightened for you. I’m frightened they’ll send for you again.’
And I’m worried they’ll send for you – but I can’t tell you that any more than I can tell you someone followed me here the night I brought John and Ellis home with me.
‘There’s no reason why they should.’
‘But they might. What did this Colonel ask about?’
‘This and that.’ During the course of a sleepless night, it had occurred to Aubrey that the things he hadn’t been asked about were actually more worrying than those he had. Reluctantly, because she wouldn’t let him alone until he answered, he said, ‘He seemed especially interested in how well I know Ellis and John. And he asked me where my own political loyalties lie … so, since there was no point in lying about it, I told him.’ He ran a decidedly irritable hand through his hair. ‘That’s it, really. I got the impression that I, along with a few of the others, weren’t of much interest and he wanted to get us out of the way in order to concentrate on those he considered more important.’
Lydia nodded slowly, hoping this might be true. She said, ‘Promise me something. Promise you’ll stay away from them in future.’
Even after last night’s experience, Aubrey realised that he wasn’t quite ready to promise that. Associating with Gerard and the others made his life less humdrum and gave him a sense of importance. So rather than lie outright, he said wryly, ‘Given the current situation, I imagine everybody will be staying away from everybody else for the foreseeable future. As for myself – I promise I’ll be careful.’ He paused briefly and then pulled her into a hug. ‘I’m sorry you were worried, Lyd. Really sorry.’
‘Good.’ She hugged him back. ‘If you mean it, you won’t let it happen again.’
* * *
During the course of the next week, life in the Neville household returned to its usual state of armed neutrality. Margaret carped and complained; Janet and Kitty bickered over everyth
ing from hair ribbons to which of them had the bigger slice of cherry pie; and Aubrey spent the whole of each day at his work and the whole of each evening at home. Then Lydia received a letter.
It came from Stephen’s man-of-law who she hadn’t seen since the reading of the will when the ensuing uproar had resulted in Joseph shouting that Mr Hetherington’s services were no longer required and that all Neville’s future business would be taken elsewhere. As soon as it was possible to make herself heard, Lydia had quietly informed the lawyer that Mr Joseph did not speak for her and that, should the need arise, she hoped Mr Hetherington would continue to act on her behalf. And that had been that … until today.
The letter was brief and written in the little man’s formal style. What struck her as odd about it was that, though Mr Hetherington was usually direct and to the point, his letter invited her to visit his office at her earliest convenience in order to discuss “an advantageous opportunity that has arisen” but didn’t specify – or even hint – what it might be.
Consequently, the following morning found her smiling at Mr Hetherington across his desk and saying, ‘I am mystified, sir – and somewhat intrigued. What is all this about?’
The lawyer laid a paper in front of him and then folded his hands upon it.
‘It is a trifle unorthodox,’ he admitted. ‘I have received a communication from a fellow lawyer – Mr Philpott of Lincoln’s Inn. He has approached me on behalf of his client, asking that I communicate this client’s wishes to yourself.’
‘That doesn’t sound very unusual,’ remarked Lydia. ‘Isn’t that how these things are often done?’
‘Yes. But one is usually made aware of the client’s identity. In this case, however, the gentleman … at least, I am assuming it is a gentleman … wishes to remain anonymous.’
‘Oh.’ She frowned a little. ‘And what does this shy gentleman want with me?’
‘He wants to buy your lorinery.’
It was unexpected but surprise didn’t stop her knowing the answer.
‘It’s not for sale.’
Mr Hetherington tutted reprovingly.