Lords of Misrule (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 4)

by Stella Riley

  ‘That would depend on your reckoning. Oliver has decided to reckon the life of the Parliament in lunar months, rather than calendar ones. And really, what difference does it make? Having achieved nothing useful in five months, another ten days is hardly going to matter one way or the other. Speaking for myself, I’m grateful to him because, as soon as the weather permits, I’m going home to my wife, my children and my own bed.’

  ‘Well, I can’t blame you for that. But aren’t you even the smallest bit worried that, if Cromwell sticks to the letter of the Instrument, he doesn’t have to call Parliament again for three years?’

  ‘After the roaring success of this one? Hardly. And I really hope,’ returned Gabriel with a grimly sardonic smile, ‘that no-one is foolish enough to suggest that I stand for the next – because I fear my response may be somewhat less than polite.’

  * * *

  The snow continued for another three days, thus delaying Colonel Brandon’s departure for Yorkshire and finally persuading Nicholas to pluck up the courage to take what might well be his last chance to speak privately with him.

  Gabriel listened without interrupting and, when Nicholas finally stopped speaking, said, ‘I’d tell you that all this ought to be addressed to Phoebe – except that listing all your failings isn’t the best way to make a proposal of marriage if you want the girl to accept.’

  ‘I know that.’ Nicholas smiled ruefully. ‘But it can’t be denied that I’m not a very good bargain.’

  ‘You’re a better bargain than any she’s been offered so far – in as much as it’s Phoebe herself you want, not Ford Edge.’

  ‘Does that mean I’d have your approval to ask her?’

  ‘You don’t need my approval, Nick.’

  ‘Perhaps not. But I’d be more comfortable if I had it.’

  ‘Then it’s yours,’ shrugged Gabriel. ‘But don’t count on it weighing with Phoebe. She’ll make up her own mind – the same as she’s been doing for the last five years.’ He paused and then said, ‘Do you want to travel north with me?’

  ‘More than anything – but I can’t. Not yet. Not while Lydia’s still in trouble and Eden needs all the help he can get. I owe him more than that,’ said Nicholas resolutely. ‘If I wrote a letter explaining everything and asking leave to visit her as soon as I can get away, I think Phoebe would understand.’

  ‘I’m sure she would.’ Amusement lurked in the Colonel’s eyes. ‘Write your letter and I’ll deliver it for you. I’ve never seen myself as Cupid …but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.’

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  THE GOLDEN KEY

  London, February to April, 1655

  I did not live until this time

  Crowned in my felicity

  When I could say without a crime

  I am not thine, but thee.

  No bridegroom’s nor crown-conqueror’s mirth

  To mine compared can be;

  They have but pieces of this earth

  I’ve all the world in thee.

  Katherine Phillips (1631-1664)

  ONE

  Snow stopped falling and it froze.

  Gabriel left for Yorkshire with Nicholas’s letter in his pocket and Eden received a message summoning him to a discreet corner of the Blue Boar’s Head in King Street. Two men awaited him there. One was Edward Villiers; the other, looking disapproving as ever, was Sir Richard Willys.

  ‘I imagine you were surprised to hear from us,’ remarked Colonel Villiers when ale had been brought and the pot-boy withdrew.

  ‘Astonished,’ agreed Eden. ‘Sir William failed to keep our last appointment – which was not unexpected and for which I don’t blame him.’

  ‘I’m sure that’ll be a relief to him,’ muttered Sir Richard.

  Villiers ignored this and came directly to the point.

  ‘The recent Parliament proved a disappointment to us in a variety of ways. Since future government will be by Protector and Council, I have been asked to seek your opinion on whether Lambert’s views on moderation may now carry more weight … or indeed any weight at all.’

  ‘I don’t believe,’ said Eden delicately, ‘that I ever named Lambert.’

  ‘You didn’t. But logic dictates that the approach couldn’t have come from anyone else.’

  This, reflected Eden, was unfortunately true. He said, ‘With regard to what’s likely to happen next, it’s too early to say. Certainly, Cromwell has serious concerns about you and your fellows finding common ground with other disaffected parties – in particular those within the Army; concerns which rumours of forthcoming insurrections have naturally strengthened.’

  ‘That’s no doing of ours,’ snapped Sir Richard.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ asked Eden, interest mingling with a subtle hint of disbelief.

  ‘No.’ Villiers laid a hand on his companion’s arm to prevent him speaking. ‘There are other forces at work these days. Gentlemen who are determined to take the initiative without sufficient thought to their chances of success or the possible consequences. Rather like the Gerard faction of last year, in fact. It isn’t helpful.’

  ‘And would these unhelpful gentlemen be the ones responsible for the consignments of arms, powder and shot leaving London last month?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Eden allowed himself a small flicker of hope.

  ‘I have a purely non-professional interest in some of those consignments.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes. More specifically, in where they originated and who supplied them.’

  Villiers shook his head.

  ‘I can’t help you there.’

  And wouldn’t even if you could? thought Eden cynically. But said only, ‘I’ll tell the Major-General that you’ve opened the door to further talks and that you and your colleagues aren’t responsible for recent events. As for the other matter … I appreciate your reluctance to give me the names of anyone who might be able to answer my questions. But perhaps it would help if I said that I don’t care who ordered the arms or where they were going or for what purpose. I only want to get my hands on the supplier.’ He paused and then added, ‘Odd as it may sound, the matter involves a lady’s safety.’

  Villiers and Willys exchanged glances.

  Finally and against all expectation, Willys said, ‘You don’t need names. Thurloe’s already arrested two men who’d have the answers you want. Go and talk to them, why don’t you?’

  * * *

  It didn’t take Eden long to find out that the men he needed to speak to were currently lodging in the Tower. Two hours later, he was facing Major Henry Norwood across the meagre width of his cell and offering him a more comfortable stay in return for information.

  Norwood shrugged and said cautiously, ‘Have you asked Richard Thornhill?’

  ‘I tried. The man’s drunk.’

  ‘Yes. He generally is – though it’s a mystery how he manages it in here.’

  It was a mystery to Eden as well but not one he had any interest in pursuing. He said, ‘I’m here purely on my own behalf and will happily give you my word that nothing you tell me will result in repercussions you might find undesirable. I want to trace the fellow who acquired the arms on your behalf. That’s all.’

  ‘Your word, you say?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And a few home comforts in return?’

  ‘Again, yes.’

  The Major considered it for a moment and then, apparently deciding it could do no harm, said, ‘All right. But the truth is that I never had any dealings with the man who got hold of the pistols and neither did Richard. There was a go-between.’

  Of course. There bloody would be.

  ‘And who was that?’

  ‘His name is Ellis Brandon. But I doubt you’ll find him,’ said Norwood, his tone one of pure disgust. ‘The minute things started to unravel, we didn’t see him for dust. He’s probably on the other side of the channel by now.’

  ‘Ellis Brandon,’ echoed Eden flatly. It just
had to be him, didn’t it? ‘Yes. Going to ground when there’s a hint that his hide might be in danger is the only thing he’s any good at.’

  Eden left Newgate for Westminster and a few private words with his one-time clerk, Mr Hollins, which resulted in two letters being added to the day’s outgoing post. One was to an agent still working in Paris; the other was destined for the gentleman currently reporting on the court-in-exile in Cologne. Both gave the same instruction.

  Find Sir Ellis Brandon; arrest him and put him on the next boat.

  In truth, Eden didn’t expect anything to come of it. But it would be stupid, since he had the required connections, not to try.

  * * *

  February brought a welcome thaw and a few days of less bitter weather. Accompanied by Peter – without whom Henry never let her leave the house – Lydia visited the Loriners’ and Haberdashers’ Guilds and paid the annual dues. Then, after a couple of hours in Duck Lane going through the order book with Mr Potter, she decided she deserved a little leisure time and debated the various ways in which she might spend it.

  Of the many things she might have chosen, the only one that had any appeal was the one she knew she absolutely should not do. She made a mental list of all the reasons why this was so … and then she ignored them and set off for Cheapside.

  Luck was on her side. Mr Maxwell was in the shop watching with a critical eye while his assistant added several new pieces to the small display that was always kept on hand during business hours. He grinned easily at Lydia and said, ‘This is a pleasant surprise – and very welcome. Our morning thus far has been one of unparalleled dullness.’

  ‘What he means,’ murmured Mr Turner gently, ‘is that no pretty ladies have wandered in to ogle him yet.’

  ‘The day is young,’ retorted Tobias. ‘Mistress Neville … allow me to offer you some refreshment.’

  ‘That’s very kind but I didn’t come … that is I merely called to ask if you’re fully recovered now. And to collect a recipe Alice promised me.’

  ‘You mean you don’t want to see my wares? That’s disappointing. I have a necklace that might have been designed especially for you. However … yes, thank you. I’m fully recovered and fighting fit – though I generally prefer to leave the fighting to Eden because he’s better at it and enjoys it more. Not that I suspect he enjoyed his most recent bout very much but the things you like aren’t always good for you, are they?’ Tobias noticed the way those rather extraordinary silver-blue eyes sharpened and, smiling to himself, sailed blithely on. ‘Are you sure you won’t join me upstairs for a glass of wine? As you can see, there are no customers and I’m staying out of the workshop for an hour or so. I’ve set my apprentices a tricky little task – and though they work quicker when I stand over them, they work better when I don’t.’

  ‘Well,’ said Lydia hesitantly, as if allowing herself to be persuaded, ‘if you’re sure I’m not interrupting your work …?’

  ‘Not in the least.’ He began ushering her up to the parlour. ‘Ah. I should probably admit that Eden’s not here. It’s impossible to keep track of his movements these days.’

  Lydia sat down, folded her hands in her lap and, while Mr Maxwell was busy pouring wine, said, ‘What did you mean when you said “his most recent bout”?’

  Tobias swung round, glass in hand. ‘Did I say that?’

  ‘You know you did.’

  He sighed. ‘Yes. I was hoping you hadn’t noticed. Eden will have my head on a pike.’

  ‘Because I’m not supposed to know about it?’

  ‘He seemed to think that would be best.’

  ‘He always seems to think that would be best,’ muttered Lydia, almost but not quite beneath her breath. Then, ‘Since you’ve said this much, you might as well tell me the rest. What happened?’

  ‘He took a bit of a battering,’ said Tobias rather more cheerfully than Lydia thought was warranted. ‘It was … getting on for a month ago, now. Two or three ruffians set on him in the street one night.’ He set the glass of claret at her elbow. ‘Nasty business at the time – but no permanent damage.’

  Despite the heat of the fire, Lydia felt suddenly rather cold. Nearly a month ago would coincide with the three weeks in which Eden hadn’t come near her. Gripping her fingers together, she said, ‘How nasty precisely?’

  ‘Cuts and bruises mostly – though the cracked ribs were a bit more serious.’ He watched with interest as the colour seeped slowly from her skin and added gently, ‘You’ve seen him quite recently, haven’t you? So you know there’s nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I’m not worried. I think I’m about to be furious.’

  Tobias shook his head, laughing a little. ‘He’s suffered enough – trust me.’

  She fixed him with a stricken but very direct gaze.

  ‘He was attacked because of me, wasn’t he? Because he got my women out.’

  Having discovered what he’d wanted to know, Tobias decided not to be drawn into even deeper waters.

  ‘You’d better take that point up with Eden. I’ve already said a good deal more than I should and will be up to my neck in trouble as a result.’ He grinned at her again. ‘My only consolation is that, when you catch up with him, Eden will be too.’

  * * *

  ‘You might want to make yourself scarce for a time when Eden comes in,’ suggested Tobias to Nicholas a short while before supper. ‘I’ve something to confess and he’s going to rip my head off.’

  ‘Why? What have you done?’

  ‘I’ve told Lydia Neville about Quinn’s fellows knocking the stuffing out of him.’

  Nicholas stared at him. ‘Why in God’s name did you do that?’

  ‘Call it a slip of the tongue.’

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘No. But it’s what I’ll be telling Eden.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ replied Nicholas dryly. ‘Just don’t involve me.’

  Tobias made up the fire, told Mistress Wilkes to delay supper for half-an-hour or so and poured two glasses of wine. Then he sat down to wait.

  Eden came in as he always did, tossing his gloves aside and heading straight for the fire. He said, ‘It’s sleeting again and the wind’s got up. It must be nice to have the kind of job that doesn’t necessitate braving the elements on a daily basis.’

  ‘Yes. Well, you know what a tender plant I am.’ Tobias handed his brother one of the glasses, indicated the most comfortable chair which was also the one nearest to the fire and said, ‘I won’t ask if you had a pleasant day because you never do.’

  ‘I’ve had worse.’ Eden sat down, sipped the wine and eyed Tobias over the rim of his glass. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?’

  ‘Your naturally suspicious nature.’ Taking the chair on the other side of the hearth, Toby drained half his glass and said, ‘I had a visitor today. Lydia Neville.’

  ‘Oh? What did she want?’

  You, actually – though of course she didn’t admit it.

  ‘I don’t think she wanted anything in particular – though she did say something about a recipe from Alice. She didn’t stay long. But we talked and one thing led to another the way it does and the upshot was that I did something you won’t like.’

  Given his brother’s spectacular success with women, Eden’s immediate assumption made him want to grab Tobias by the throat.

  ‘What, exactly?’

  ‘Not what you’re thinking,’ came the blunt reply. ‘I inadvertently let something slip about recent events. It was hardly anything really. But the lady’s like a terrier, isn’t she? Once she has her teeth into something she doesn’t let go.’

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

  ‘You told her I was attacked last month?’

  ‘Yes. I’m afraid so. It --’

  Slamming his glass down with a force which cracked it, Eden stood up and let fly string of curses, culminating in, ‘You thrice-damned bloody interfering fool. Why the sodding hell did you do it?’

 
‘It was an accident. I --’

  ‘Liar. It was no accident. I know you, Toby. You did it deliberately and for some God-knows-what reason of your own.’ He shoved a furious hand through his hair. ‘Did you ever consider the consequences of telling her something she never needed to know? No. Of course you didn’t. You just went wading in the way you always do – indulging in a bit of mischief to pass a dull Tuesday.’

  ‘That’s not --’

  ‘I specifically said she wasn’t to know. You knew that. I didn’t want her told because I knew how she’d react. You, it seems, didn’t give a four-penny damn about making her feel as guilty about me as she already felt about you. You just don’t bloody think!’

  ‘Have you finished?’ asked Tobias mildly. ‘If so --’

  ‘No. I know you did it on purpose. I’m waiting to hear why.’

  ‘All right.’ Tobias rose to his full, impressive height and faced his brother impassively. ‘If you’ll let me finish a sentence, I’ll tell you.’

  Eden stared back over folded arms. ‘Well?’

  ‘I told her because I wanted to find something out.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I wanted to know how she feels about you. Whether you’re just the useful fellow who solves her problems … or something more.’

  If he had been angry before, Eden now looked ripe for murder.

  ‘What the hell has that to do with you?’

  ‘The way I see it, quite a lot,’ returned Tobias, his own gaze turning a lot cooler. ‘I don’t remember how it was with you and Celia in the beginning because I was rarely there. But I saw your relationship with Deborah clearly enough to know that what’s going on now between you and Lydia Neville is very different. You’d bleed to death sooner than admit it, I daresay, but I think you’re in love with her in a way that’s unlikely to prove transient. Until today, all I’ve seen is you risking your neck for her and her letting you do it. I decided to find out if there was more than that.’

  ‘I repeat – my relationship with Lydia is none of your business.’