by Stella Riley
‘Well, nothing happened for a bit after that – though we made sure Mistress Neville wasn’t going to and fro on her own till we was sure she’d be safe. Then last week, I was first in and somebody’d shut a pair of great vicious dogs in the yard.’ Will held out his arm. ‘Nearly had me hand off they did afore I got rid of ’em.’
Eden frowned. ‘Dogs? They couldn’t have got in there on their own?’
‘Not a chance, Colonel. Somebody had to’ve unbarred the gate, then shut it behind ’em. Made us all sweat, I can tell you – thinking it might’ve been Miss Lydia who opened that gate instead of one of us.’ He drew a long breath. ‘Then yesterday it was rotten fish. Half a barrel of it, shoved through the only window that’s got a weak catch. The smell was bloody evil, even after we’d cleared it all away – still is, come to that. But the worst thing happened this morning.’
‘And that was?’
‘It was poor old Dan – Trooper Hayes, I should say. You’ll remember him an all.’
‘Of course. What’s happened to him?’
‘He’s broke his arm, sir. He was going up the ladder to check the stock in the loft same as he does every week – him being the only one of us with four good limbs – and he was nearly at the top when a rung snapped and Dan come down like a ton of bricks with his arm all busted up. Only when we had a look at the ladder, it hadn’t snapped at all, Colonel. It’d been sawn through deliberate.’
‘You’re sure about that?’
‘Bloody certain, sir.’
Eden’s frown intensified.
‘Does Mistress Neville know about all this?’
‘She will do now,’ replied Trooper Collis unhappily. ‘We kept it from her about the dogs and the fish. But Mr Potter had to send for the sawbones to see to Dan’s arm and he said it weren’t right to do that without telling Miss Lydia – so he sent round a note. I reckon she’ll be at the yard by now. And hopping mad, most like.’
‘No doubt.’ As he reached for his hat, Eden glanced briefly at the man’s wooden leg and said, ‘How did you get here?’
‘A log-seller gave me a ride on his barrow.’ Will rose from the chair, his expression both eager and hopeful. ‘Are you coming to take a look, Colonel?’
‘Yes. I keep a horse here but I draw the line at taking you up behind me, so --’
‘I can walk well enough.’
‘From here to Aldersgate? Don’t be an idiot. I’ll have Major Moulton find a cart or some such. In fact, he may as well come, too. There’s no saying that we might not find a use for him.’
* * *
By the time Colonel Maxwell rode into the yard in Duck Lane, a hefty measure of spirits had been poured down Trooper Hayes throat and the surgeon had set his arm. Then, accompanied by Nancy with orders to stay until his daughter came back from her work at the laundry, Lydia had paid two brawny fellows to carry him home on a hurdle.
Consequently, Eden arrived at the doorway to the workshop just in time to hear Mistress Neville say crisply, ‘And now, gentlemen, you will all sit down and, without further omissions or prevarications, tell me exactly what has been going on here.’
Seventeen pairs of eyes stared miserably down at the floor and no one spoke.
‘Well?’ she said. ‘I’m waiting.’
Eden stepped back outside before anyone should notice him, a faint smile curling his mouth. He’d been right about Lydia Neville. She might look like a slip of a thing but her backbone was pure steel.
Assuming the workers couldn’t add anything to what Collis had already told him, Eden decided to take a look around the yard. The first thing he noticed was that gate had no lock and was merely fastened by a bar.
This is ridiculous. What are they thinking? It’s an open bloody invitation.
The broken ladder lay on its side against a wall. Eden dropped to one knee and examined it. The rung that had given way had been sawn almost clean through and the ones above and below also showed signs of tampering. Someone had been very thorough. He stood up and considered what he knew. The rotting fish was the sort of practical joke played by youthful apprentices. But the dogs had been a vicious trick which might, as Collis had said, have had very nasty consequences. As for the business with the ladder … if Hayes had fallen differently and his head had hit either the cobbles or the corner of any of those iron-bound boxes, he’d be dead.
This was no game. Somebody was apparently set on damaging – or even destroying – a business that was too small to be a threat to anyone … which suggested a grudge either against Lydia Neville personally or her work-force of semi-crippled war veterans. The question, thought Eden grimly, was why. If he knew that, he might be able to figure out the who.
A cart rumbled to a halt beyond the gate and, more nimbly than might be expected of a man with a false leg, Trooper Collis made it to the ground. Colonel Maxwell watched Major Moulton tethering the horse and said, ‘We need a padlock, Ned. A good, stout one and the fittings for it – and at least two keys. Buy one and I’ll help you attach it. I’ll be inside having a word with Mistress Neville.’
Major Moulton nodded and limped away towards St Martin’s Lane and the shops of Cheapside. Trooper Collis looked warily at the Colonel and said, ‘Miss Lydia’s here, then?’
‘She is indeed – and, when last I looked, was giving your friends a rare grilling.’
‘Gawd,’ breathed Will. ‘Reckon I might just stop out here for a bit.’
The hazel eyes gleamed.
‘Craven, Will?’
‘No. I just knows when to keep me head down.’ The seamed face cracked into a grin. ‘Learned that from you, Colonel.’
Eden gave a snort of laughter and turned away, saying, ‘She’ll catch up with you – see if she doesn’t. You can’t hide forever.’
Inside the workshop, men were now returning to their benches and Mistress Neville had disappeared – presumably to confer with the foreman in his office. A few heads were nodded and hands raised in greeting as he strolled through but no one said anything. Clearly, thought Eden sardonically, they were going to leave him to announce himself.
The door to the office stood slightly ajar and the lady had her back to it. Consequently, it was left to Mr Potter to say weakly, ‘Ah. Miss Lydia? The Colonel’s here.’
She wheeled round, her face a picture of shock, swiftly merging into frigid dislike. Then she said furiously, ‘You again. What the hell do you want this time?’
Her anger seemed greater than the situation warranted. His eyes narrowing slightly, Eden said mildly, ‘I was sent for. Did no one mention it?’
‘No.’ She swung back to Mr Potter. ‘You knew about this?’
He nodded. ‘We sent Will Collis. It was for the best, Mistress.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion. And I suppose it had to be him?’ Then, when the beleaguered foreman frowned in palpable confusion, ‘Oh – never mind. You weren’t to know, I suppose. Just go away and see that everyone has got over the upset. I need a private word with the Colonel.’
Mr Potter edged between his desk and the lady, glad of the chance to escape.
Lydia held her ground and waited while Colonel Maxwell came in, closed the door and, in deference to the lack of space, leaned negligently against it with his arms folded. Then she said coldly, ‘Well, Colonel? If you investigate every instance of a man falling from a ladder, you must be kept extraordinarily busy. Or was your previous visit not enough to convince you that my business is not a hot-bed of conspiracy?’
Ah. So that’s it. Sir Aubrey must have let himself be caught out. I suppose I ought to have guessed he might not be clever enough to keep quiet. And now I’m the villain of the piece.
He said, ‘I am extraordinarily busy, Mistress – as doubtless your brother can testify. I am not, however, here to spy on you.’
‘And I’m supposed to believe that, am I? You knew who I was when you were here before. You knew the man you’d had in for questioning was my brother and you came here to find out whether I was using
the lorinery to cover --’
‘I came to see Collis, Buxton and Hayes,’ said Eden, deciding that patience wasn’t going to get him anywhere while she was in this mood. ‘And I’m here now to offer my help.’
‘We don’t need help. We particularly don’t need yours.’ Lydia wasn’t sure what infuriated her most; his iron control or his assumption that she’d believe anything he told her. ‘But try explaining this to me. If you weren’t here last month to determine whether or not the lorinery is what it seems, why didn’t you tell me it was you who’d had Aubrey arrested?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? I didn’t tell you because I assumed he wouldn’t want you to know.’ Eden sighed and, with deliberately provocative kindness, said, ‘Perhaps you’re not aware that men frequently do things of which they prefer their womenfolk to remain ignorant. I assumed that this was one such case and so, difficult though it may be for you to believe, I was actually doing your brother a favour.’ He made a small dismissive gesture with one hand and added, ‘It’s hardly my fault if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.’
Lydia’s own mouth opened and then closed again. Finally, ‘Is that the truth?’
‘I believe I just said so.’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh,’ agreed Eden with only the merest suggestion of amusement.
‘There’s no need to be so patronising,’ she muttered, aware that he’d cut the ground from beneath her feet but unwilling, as yet, to cede the point by apologising. ‘He wouldn’t have told me if he could have avoided it.’
‘I’m sure. And now, since I have a number of other engagements today, might we discuss what happened this morning? If it helps, I’ll admit that I don’t take an interest in every fellow who falls from his ladder … just the ones who do so because the rungs have been sawn through.’
Lydia dropped abruptly into the foreman’s chair. Now Colonel Maxwell had successfully deprived her of the self-righteous anger that had been keeping her on her feet, shock had its way with her knees. She swallowed hard and said, ‘Sawn through? Had they?’
‘Yes.’ He frowned. ‘You didn’t know?’
‘No. They … they finally told me about the dogs and the fish. But they let me assume what happened this morning was an accident. That’s why I … why I thought --’
‘That they had no business calling me in. Quite. Clearly, they’re trying to protect you and equally clearly, they can’t if you don’t know what’s going on.’
She drew a long, unsteady breath. This was worse, very much worse than she had thought. And that meant the Colonel was right. She did need help – if not for herself, then for the men who might get hurt if she didn’t take measures to prevent it. Her voice tight with strain but perfectly steady, she said wryly, ‘Perhaps you can tell them that. They might listen to you. Meanwhile, I’ll arrange to put a padlock on the gate and --’
‘It’s done – or will be when my Major returns from buying one.’
‘Oh. I see. How very efficient of you.’
‘Wasn’t it? We’ll fix it before we leave.’
‘I think my own men are more than capable of --’
‘It will be more useful if you have your fellows check all the window-catches and mend any that appear weak. And, just in case the padlock doesn’t keep your tormenters out and you want to be sure of avoiding further infestations of fish, you might think about affixing shutters on the ground floor.’
Her expression told him that she didn’t like being managed.
Eden let his smile inform her that he didn’t care and would do it anyway.
Lydia said grittily, ‘What a good idea.’
‘I have them sometimes,’ replied Eden, enjoying the fact that, much as she’d like to throw him out, she was beginning to recognise that he probably had better knowledge of security than she did. ‘You could also consider employing a night-watchman – preferably one with a well-trained dog.’ He paused for a moment and then said bluntly, ‘Someone wants to hurt you, Mistress Neville – and the only sure way to stop them is to find out who they are. Unfortunately, I don’t have sufficient time to discuss ways of doing that today. My desk is piled high, I’ve a meeting with Major-General Lambert this afternoon and I promised to be home by six to meet my housekeeper’s future husband. So attempting to identify your attacker will have to wait, I’m afraid.’
Lydia stood up and managed a coolly polite smile.
‘I appreciate your advice, Colonel. It’s been most helpful. But I am fully aware that your time is precious and don’t believe that we need to take up any more of it. I’m sure we can manage matters ourselves from this point.’
‘You’d like to think that, of course.’ Eden uncoiled from the wall and reached for his hat. ‘Or perhaps you already know who is persecuting you?’
‘No.’ The whores in Strand Alley were one thing but surely even Margaret wouldn’t stoop to something like this. ‘That is … no.’
‘You don’t sound very sure.’
‘Well … I’d need to think about it.’
‘Do that. And when you have, we’ll talk again. Just in case it hasn’t occurred to you, Mistress Neville, I’m in the business of uncovering secrets. Under the circumstances, you may find that useful. And now,’ he concluded making a slight bow and replacing his hat, ‘once I’ve seen to that padlock, I’ll do the one thing you’ve been wanting me to do since you first clapped eyes on me.’
‘What?’
‘Leave,’ he said succinctly. And smiled.
* * *
Lydia watched him go. She wondered if he ever got tired of being right all the time … then concluded, rather sourly, that he probably didn’t. She also wondered how he managed to make her feel angry, invigorated and unsettled all at the same time. A sly voice at the back of her mind suggested that the unsettled part might have something to do with that smile of his … but she informed the voice that the damned smile wasn’t to be trusted. As far as she could see, half the time, he used it as a weapon.
It was when she realised that her feet had unwittingly carried her to a window from which she could watch the Colonel at work on the gate that she started to wonder what on earth was the matter with her. He was an infuriating, over-bearing nuisance and she didn’t need him poking about in her affairs. Indeed, she would be happy if she never saw him again.
Yes, she thought, relieved to have recovered her usual good sense. That’s more like it.
At the back of her mind, the sly voice sniggered.
~ * * ~ * * ~
NINE
Dark, elegant and saturnine as ever, John Lambert said, ‘General Monck is in Stirling from where he plans to block the enemies’ passage to the lowlands. He says that the insurrection is more widespread than he was led to believe and has informed Oliver that he will advance into the highlands as soon as there is sufficient grass to feed his horses.’
Colonel Maxwell couldn’t help grinning.
‘He’s waiting for the grass to grow?’
‘Apparently. He is also waiting for money to pay his men, more cavalry and warships to assist him from the coast.’ The Major-General paused and, sighing, added, ‘Actually, the list of what he wants is endless. Surgeons, farriers and saddlers … powder, shot and basic provisions; also a number of officers who should be on his strength but seem to be unaccountably missing. I am supposed to find them for him.’
‘Can you?’
‘Some of them. But since I assume the General would prefer to have his demands partially met quickly rather than fully met some months hence, I hope he will take the short-fall philosophically. Also, the Council of State has recently passed the ordinances for Scotland that he insists will be helpful – so there is compensation, of a sort.’
‘You’ll have to explain, I’m afraid,’ said Eden. ‘I’ve had no dealings with Council matters for some time and Secretary Thurloe is rarely communicative.’
‘So I’ve noticed. Is that the principal reason you are so eager to quit your current position?’
&n
bsp; ‘It’s one of my reasons, certainly. Although I respect Thurloe’s efficiency and his ability to keep numerous balls in the air whilst interlacing one thing with another, I don’t find him easy to work with.’ He had no intention of mentioning the two irate letters he’d recently received from his brother-in-law, Ralph Cochrane, berating him for failing to spend more than two days at Thorne Ash in the last six months. And so, returning to the point, ‘But you were going to tell me about these Scottish ordinances.’
‘Yes. The most important one unites Scotland with England and gives the Scots the right to send thirty members to Westminster when Parliament opens in September. The other is the Ordinance of Pardon and Grace – which is basically an act of oblivion and general pardon for any and all acts committed during the wars. There are exceptions, of course … but not so many that Monck shouldn’t see a reduction in the opposition.’
‘For which he’ll be grateful, I’m sure. Do we know where General Middleton is?’
‘The last report we had put him at Sutherland but, by now, he could be anywhere. That’s the main problem. The Scots are leading our troops a merry dance up and down every mountain in the highlands. We had a couple of moderate successes at the head of the Cromerty Firth and Dunkeld last month but nothing big enough to stop them.’
Eden had started to wonder how he figured in all this – or even if he did. Deciding to bring matters to a head, he said, ‘Exactly why did you want to see me, sir?’
‘I’m going to put you in charge of General Monck’s elusive officers and the supply train that will be going north with them.’
Hope sprang up as it had so many times now that Eden no longer dared trust it.
‘Secretary Thurloe won’t release me. There’s a new possible murder threat.’
‘Oliver?’
‘Yes.’ Why do you look surprised? Cromwell’s got more people wanting to kill him than the late King. They’re just less well-placed to actually do it. ‘It may be nothing. But Thurloe’s going to arrest people right, left and centre until he’s sure. And, as you’ve said yourself many times, I’m … useful.’