by Stella Riley
‘Yes. Of course. I don’t yet know what hours Aubrey spends in Shoreditch but I am assuming he will usually be home for supper. I – we would be happy if you cared to join us one evening.’
‘Thank you. I’d be delighted.’ He took a step through the front door and then half-turned back, tilting his head slightly. ‘Surprised, Mistress Neville? By a very tepid compliment? You really do know the wrong men.’
And he was gone.
~ * * ~ * * ~
EIGHT
The following morning brought Eden two notes. The first was from Major-General Lambert stating that Edward Villiers and Richard Willys were to be released from the Tower later that day and would be required to provide an address. The second was from Colonel Brandon announcing that he had just arrived in London and could be found at a house in Cockspur Street near the Tiltyard.
Eden threw on his sword, grabbed his hat and strode out.
He was admitted to a pleasant three-storey house by a fellow with a broad Yorkshire accent, who said, ‘If you’ll give me a minute, sir, I’ll tell Colonel you’re here.’
Eden shook his head. ‘Where is he?’
‘Front parlour, sir. Upstairs – second door on right. But I ought to --’
‘Don’t worry. He won’t mind. And if he does, I’ll shoulder the blame,’ returned Eden, already taking the stairs. And, reaching the landing, he called out, ‘Stand to, Colonel!’
‘What the --?’ A door jerked open and Gabriel stepped through it, cursing when he banged his head on the lintel. Then, seeing Eden, ‘Oh – very funny.’
Eden grinned and held out his hand.
‘Did you doubt I’d come to welcome you back? How are you?’
‘I’ll be a damned sight better when I get used to low ceilings. I’ve cracked my skull three times this morning alone.’ But he gripped Eden’s hand and smiled back. ‘It’s good to see you. Come in and take some ale. Venetia’s not here – but Moulton travelled down with me. Doubtless you’ll trip over him soon enough.’
‘Doubtless,’ agreed Eden. Then, ‘Since you’re a temporary bachelor, why don’t you leave the servants to get this house ready for Venetia and come and stay with us? As you’re aware, there’s plenty of room and you won’t need to duck every time you go through a doorway.’
Gabriel gestured to a chair and turned away to pour ale.
‘That’s extraordinarily tempting and I certainly wouldn’t mind imposing on you for the next few days until the House convenes. But once it does so, this place is more conveniently situated.’
Eden accepted the mug he was offered and said, ‘Come to Cheapside and see how it goes.’
‘Thank you. If your brother won’t mind?’
‘Toby’s hot-footed it off to Thorne Ash because Tabitha’s pregnant.’ He paused briefly. ‘She’s lost two already and the last time was bad. So Toby won’t be able to settle to anything until he’s sure she’ll be all right. The price of being a twin, I suppose.’
Gabriel nodded and dropped into a chair.
‘Young as they are, we see it occasionally with Kit and Rob. Rather unnerving, actually.’ He took a sip of ale. ‘How did you get on at Thorne Ash?’
‘After Ralph knocked me on my backside? Better than previously. I spent time with Jude and found him surprisingly mature for his age. I even asked if he’d like to come and stay with me for a few weeks – though I’m not sure that will happen unless I can somehow make provision for Mary to come as well.’ Eden drew a long breath and expelled it. ‘The worst moment was when he told me he’d worked out the truth about Celia and challenged me to confirm it.’
‘And did you?’
‘Yes.’
‘About his sister’s paternity as well?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ Gabriel frowned slightly. ‘Does the girl know?’
‘Jude says not – and naturally enough, he doesn’t want her to.’ He stared into his ale. ‘I made more of an effort with her than I’ve done in the past … but she still looks at me as if I’d got two heads.’
‘What did you expect? It will take time.’ Gabriel leaned back in his chair and decided to change the subject. ‘And what have you been doing since you got back from Scotland? More skulduggery in the Intelligence Office? Or are you temporarily unemployed?’
‘That will be the day. Lambert has a new bee in his bonnet,’ replied Eden. And, after describing his current mission, added, ‘I’m hoping to catch up with Edward Villiers later today – which should provide some indication of the kind of reception I can expect.’
Colonel Brandon took his time about answering but finally he said, ‘I never met Villiers. But I suspect I’m better-acquainted with Will Compton than you.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘We used to take the air together while we were both lodged in the Tower. You, of course, were just the fellow with the keys.’
‘I haven’t forgotten that.’
‘Neither have I, as it happens. So if you think I can help, you need only ask.’
* * *
Back in Cheapside a further note from Lambert revealed that Colonel Villiers had been duly released and could be found at the Rose and Crown on Fleet Street. Leaving Gabriel to settle into the spare bedchamber whilst getting over his first glimpse of Mistress Wilkes’s bosom – the magnitude of which had actually stopped him in his tracks for an instant – Eden changed out of his uniform and set off to try his hand at diplomacy.
He found Edward Villiers in a corner of the tap-room with another fellow he assumed must be Sir Richard Willys. Villiers was a lightly-built man of roughly Eden’s own age and height. Willys was both older and stockier. Eden repressed a sigh. He knew a great deal about Villiers. Of Sir Richard, he knew only that he’d earned his knighthood on the battlefield and had briefly served as Governor of Newark. Eden wondered if he’d be allowed to speak to Villiers privately but suspected that he wouldn’t – which meant being doubly careful what he said.
‘Colonel Villiers?’ he asked, holding out his hand. And, when the other man rose looking mildly surprised, ‘We haven’t met – but I was hoping you might spare me a few minutes of your time.’
Villiers accepted his hand but said, ‘And you are?’
‘My name is Maxwell.’
Villiers shook his head slightly, indicating that the name meant nothing to him. Willys, by contrast, came to his feet saying forcefully, ‘I know who you are. You were at Newbury with Waller. So you’re not plain Mister, are you?’
‘Your memory is excellent, Sir Richard,’ agreed Eden smoothly. ‘No. I currently hold the rank of Colonel. But the fact that I’m not in uniform should suggest that I’m not here in any military capacity now.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘Richard,’ said Edward Villiers quietly. ‘Perhaps you might allow Colonel Maxwell to state his business as he sees fit?’
Sir Richard grunted and subsided into a chair.
‘And in private … if you don’t mind.’
Willys’s expression said he minded very much but he stood up, gestured to the other side of the room and said gruffly, ‘I’ll be over there.’
Smiling faintly, Colonel Villiers watched him go and then, turning to Eden, said, ‘You’re aware, I’m sure, that Richard and I were released from the Tower only hours ago.’
‘I am – and can fully appreciate Sir Richard’s reservations.’ Eden sat down, signalled to a pot-boy for more ale and, with a hint of humour, said, ‘This role is new to me, Colonel so I’ll trust you to make allowances.’
‘I imagine that will depend on what you have to say. My impression so far is that the matter is delicate and you are unsure how best to proceed. May I suggest you do so directly?’
‘Thank you. I’d be delighted.’ Eden waited for the pot-boy to pour the ale and go. ‘I don’t know how much you know of Charles Stuart’s recent movements or shifts in policy, but --’
‘As much as you do, I daresay. Word leaks into the Tower through every crack.’
‘Good.
Then you’ll know that Charles is at Aachen and that some of the men he’s been talking to recently have been cultivating fellows like Wildman and Sexby. Royalists who believe alliances with Presbyterians and sundry Radicals may prove beneficial.’
‘Yes. I’m somewhat alarmed, however, to find that you know it too.’
‘Very little escapes Secretary Thurloe,’ returned Eden flatly. ‘But that’s not why I’m here. I’ve been asked to speak with you for two reasons. Firstly because, quite aside from your kinship with Sir Edward Hyde and his Grace of Buckingham, you have influence with other Royalists of stature … and, I believe, the ear of Charles Stuart.’
‘Since you feel able to refer to both Ned and George by their correct titles, it would be a courtesy to refer to His Majesty the King by his,’ observed the Colonel dryly. ‘However, I suppose I must accept that you can’t … so let us move on. The second reason?’
‘The fact that I can’t and therefore don’t doesn’t necessarily mean I’m averse to doing so. But by all means let us stick to the matter in hand … and that is that the list of Members for the new Parliament suggests that the composition of the House will be significantly more Moderate than had been expected.’
‘Really? That must be a cause for concern in certain quarters.’
‘Very likely. But in others, there’s a feeling that a degree of reasonable communication between Westminster and the court-in-exile might lead to some middle-ground … or at least to a reduction of the current levels of hostility.’
Colonel Villiers regarded him steadily over the rim of his ale-pot. After what seemed a very long time, he finally said, ‘Who sent you to me?’
‘You know I can’t tell you that.’
‘No. If he or they could do this openly, they wouldn’t need you. But I’ll require more than vague hints if you want me to take this to the gentlemen best-placed to consider it – with a view, eventually, to placing it before Ned Hyde and the King. I know nothing about you, Colonel. For all I know to the contrary, you might be one of Thurloe’s agents provocateur.’
‘I’m not – though, as you’ll find out easily enough, I worked in his office for a time. But the man who sent me to you is of a very different persuasion – as am I. Neither of us believe the country’s divisions can be healed by simply tossing every Royalist-sympathiser into a cell.’ Eden hesitated briefly and then said, ‘I’m speaking on behalf of someone with both influence and principle. You may well guess who that is … but I can’t confirm it. I can, however, offer you a gesture of good intent on my own behalf – though I’d prefer you didn’t reveal where you got the information.’
Villiers nodded. ‘You have my word.’
‘Very well.’ Eden lowered his voice a little more. ‘Secretary Thurloe has known for some time of the existence of an organisation which he believes is called the Sealed Knot. But so far as I’m aware, he doesn’t yet have the names of any of its members.’ He pushed his ale aside and stood up. ‘You may want to drop a word of warning in the appropriate quarters.’
A slightly arrested smile, lit the Colonel’s grey eyes.
‘Yes. I believe I might indeed want to do that. Thank you.’ He also rose and held out his hand. ‘This has been … interesting. If I wished to contact you, how might I do so?’
‘Send a message to Sir Nicholas Austin at Neville’s lorinery in Duck Lane. He’ll make sure I get it.’
‘Sir Nicholas is to be trusted?’
‘He lost an arm fighting for Charles Stuart at Worcester,’ replied Eden with a grim smile. ‘What do you think?’
* * *
On the following day, Lydia returned from her routine visits to both Duck Lane and Strand Alley to learn visitors were lying in wait in the front parlour.
She stared at Nancy.
‘Oh God. All three of them? Here? At the same time?’
Nancy grinned.
‘Yes, Miss Lydia. Sir Ellis got here first, then Mr Wakefield turned up and, not ten minutes ago, the Reverend Neville was on the doorstep.’ The grin became a laugh. ‘What’s more, they’ve all brought flowers.’
‘It’s not funny,’ hissed Lydia. ‘Why didn’t you send them away?’
‘I tried. I said you wasn’t at home and I didn’t know when you’d be back – but none of ’em took the hint. So I put ’em all in the best parlour so they could set about trying to get rid of each other. Only they haven’t.’
Lydia drew a bracing breath and straightened her spine.
‘Right. Give me ten minutes. If they haven’t left by then, come and call me away. Any excuse will do. Tam’s got the plague – the kitchen is on fire – anything. I don’t care. Just bring me an escape route.’
And she stalked purposefully into the ominously silent parlour.
All three gentlemen immediately got to their feet and spoke at once.
‘Please!’ said Lydia, stemming the tide with one upraised hand. ‘One at a time, if you wouldn’t mind.’
Gilbert Wakefield grinned ruefully and gave a deprecating shrug.
Ellis Brandon raised one brow and made her an extravagant bow.
Geoffrey Neville stormed forward brandishing a bunch of wilting roses and said fulsomely, ‘Cousin Lydia! I have been so worried about you. Indeed, since you left John Street I have scarcely been able to sleep. By this morning, I felt I could bear it no longer.’ He shoved the flowers virtually into her face. ‘I had to know how you were!’
‘And as you now see, I am perfectly well,’ replied Lydia, retreating a step and taking the roses from him with due deference to the many thorns. Then, placing them to one side and turning to Sir Ellis, ‘And you, sir? To what do I owe the honour of your visit?’
Ellis sauntered forward, kissed her hand with consummate grace and then wrapped her fingers about an exquisitely-tied bunch of white lilies.
Funeral flowers, thought Lydia immediately, pasting an expression of pleasure on her face whilst holding the bouquet at arms’ length.
‘I merely called to ask if you would care to take a stroll about the Exchange with me one day.’
‘I’m sure that would be delightful when I have time – which, at present, I’m afraid I don’t. But I thank you for the thought and the flowers.’ Placing the lilies beside Geoffrey’s roses, she smiled more warmly at Mr Wakefield. ‘And Gilbert? What brings you here today?’
He smiled back and held out a simple posy of lavender and larkspur.
‘I wanted to wish you joy in your new home and to ask if you needed help of any kind.’ He glanced around the still only partly-furnished parlour and added, ‘It’s a pleasant house and you appear to be very comfortable here.’
‘I am – though there is still a great deal to be done.’ Lydia breathed in the scent of the flowers. ‘As to needing help – it’s kind of you to offer but my brother has returned to live with me now so I have him to call upon.’
‘Aubrey is back?’ drawled Sir Ellis. ‘May one ask where he’s been all this time?’
‘Taking up a new trade. No doubt he’ll tell you all about it when you meet.’
Geoffrey scowled. ‘What trade?’
‘One that is more to his taste than the pewter business,’ replied Lydia unhelpfully. Then, with a swift apologetic smile, ‘You must forgive me for not inviting you to stay and take wine, gentlemen. As you’ll appreciate, we’re not ready to receive visitors yet. My cook is still in the midst of ordering the kitchen to her liking and --’
Her words were punctuated by the pealing of the doorbell.
Oh God. Now what?
Reading her expression without any difficulty, Gilbert Wakefield laughed.
A tap at the door heralded Nancy, her eyes brimming with wicked enjoyment.
‘It’s the Colonel, Mistress Neville. Shall I show him in?’
The air froze in Lydia’s lungs. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or worried.
‘Of course, Nancy. Please do.’
Eden walked in, his glance taking in the assembled company befor
e settling with the merest suspicion of a smile on Lydia.
‘Mistress Neville.’ He bowed, hat in hand. ‘You’re very popular today.’
‘So it would seem.’
‘Ah … and Sir Ellis. This is a coincidence. Your brother is currently staying with me for a few days prior to taking his seat at Westminster.’
Some of Ellis’s customary swagger evaporated but he managed a harsh laugh.
‘Another bastard in Parliament? That will make a change!’
Eden tutted. ‘You are forgetting your manners, sir. There is a lady present.’
Ellis flushed a little and made Lydia a curt bow.
‘My apologies.’ Then, ‘I wasn’t aware that you were acquainted with Colonel Maxwell.’
‘Why should you be?’ she replied blandly. ‘But now I’m forgetting my manners. Colonel Maxwell … you won’t have met my cousin-by-marriage, the Reverend Neville. And this is Mr Gilbert Wakefield.’
Geoffrey scowled at the Colonel and muttered something indistinguishable. Gilbert held out his hand and said pleasantly, ‘A pleasure, Colonel – but since I suspect that we have already outstayed our welcome, I’ll take my leave and hope to run into you again at some other time. Lydia?’ He bowed over her hand. ‘Send for me if you have need. Failing that, I’ll call again in a few days.’
Then he was gone.
Colonel Maxwell eyed Cousin Geoffrey and Sir Ellis expectantly but in a way that made the Reverend fidget and take a sulky and protracted leave involving many exhortations and pieces of extraneous advice. Finally only Ellis was left, his face hard and set and his hands gripping the brim of his hat to damaging effect.
Meeting the other man’s stare with an equally challenging one of his own, Eden said, ‘You have something you wished to add? A message for Gabriel, perhaps? If so, I’d advise you to be careful how you phrase it.’
‘I have nothing to say to either him or you.’ Ellis swung round to face Lydia. ‘Please excuse me, Mistress Neville. As you’ll have gathered, there is a deal of animosity between the Colonel and myself – as a result of which you should apply more than a pinch of salt to anything he says with regard to myself.’