Frost Fair (34 page)

    'Henchman?'

    'I believe that he may be working for someone else, a swaggering fellow who called himself Captain Harvest to conceal his real name and character. When I talked about the murder with him, he told me that an accomplice was involved. I did not realise that he might have been the person who employed him. Captain Harvest is a genial parasite,' he explained. 'He uses his charm and cunning to live off others.'

    'Henry mentioned his name. He thought the captain was a friend of his.'

    'Not any more, Father.'

    'How did he fall in with such bad company?'

    'He's not the only person to be tricked by Captain Harvest. Dozens more were deceived by his plausible manner and smooth tongue. Had it not been for my friend, Jonathan Bale, the captain would have continued his deception unchecked and, I fear, have got away with murder.'

    'It's shameful!' said the old man with bitterness. 'All this stems from Henry's reprehensible way of life. That is the fans et origo of this succession of horrors. Because your brother is so easily led by false friends, he is now in prison and you have twice escaped attempts on your life. It's unpardonable! I was far too soft on Henry at the prison. When I return tomorrow, I'll make him see the evil consequences of his behaviour.'

    'No, Father. Do not mention what happened to me today.'

    'But I must. It may bring him to his senses.'

    'He's already plagued by his conscience,' said Christopher, 'If he knows there's been another assault on me, he'll suffer even greater pangs. Let's spare him those. It's torment enough simply to be locked up in that prison.'

    'Henry needs to show true remorse.'

    'I'm sure that he does.'

    'I want clearer evidence of it, Christopher,' insisted the other. 'For that reason, I intend to tell him how terribly you've suffered because of him. Thanks to Henry, you were all but murdered by that ruffian.'

    "That's the odd thing, Father.'

    'What is?'

    'The man was no ruffian.'

    'He must have been.'

    'He hit me hard,' said Christopher, rubbing a shoulder, 'there's no question about that. But he used that cudgel as if he'd never had it in his hand before. A ruffian would have had me senseless with a few blows then finished me off with a dagger. This may seem a strange thing to say,' he continued, 'but I was attacked by a gentleman of sorts.'

        Hannah Liggett lodged in a tenement not far from the Hope and Anchor. When he got there, Jonathan first spoke to the landlord and learned that the woman was not inside. She had been seen leaving with a man earlier that evening but he did not fit the description that the constable gave him of Captain Harvest. There was nothing that Jonathan could do except wait. Finding a vantage point from which to watch the building, he turned up his collar against the chill wind and kept his eyes on the street. Several people came and went but none looked anything like the man he sought. Hannah Liggett's room was on the first floor and he watched the shuttered window for signs of light. She did not return to the tenement. It was a long, cold, cheerless wait that yielded no positive result. At midnight, Jonathan went back home.

    The first guests arrived by mid-morning and the house in the Strand was suddenly filled with political gossip. Susan Cheever remained on the fringes of the conversation and spent most of her time chatting to Jack Cardinal, who seemed to shy away from the general discussion.

    'Do you have no time for politics, Mr Cardinal?' she asked.

    'For politics, yes,' he replied. 'It's the politicians that frighten me. Listen to them. They never stop talking about which faction will rise and which fall.'

    'You'd not find my father congenial company, then.'

    'Oh, but I would, Miss Cheever.'

    'He, too, is obsessed with political events.'

    'Any member of your family would interest me greatly. Lancelot tells me that Sir Julius is an outspoken man with forceful opinions. We've too few of those in parliament. I'd very much like to meet him some time.' He gave a smile. 'Now that I've made your acquaintance, I hope to see a lot more of you.'

    It was the nearest he got to expressing his affection for her. Susan was grateful when his mother detached him with a request to fetch something from her bedchamber. It gave Susan a chance to take a first look at Patience Holcroft, who was just arriving with her husband. They were an incongruous couple. The gaunt and stooping Sir Ralph Holcroft looked years older than his true age while his wife seemed to be years younger than hers. There was a youthful bloom on her that turned the head of every man in the room. She was beautiful yet demure, accepting compliments with a touching modesty. Her husband appeared to bask in the praise that she received. Susan was worried. With everyone forming a circle around the newcomers, she could not see how she could get near Patience Holcroft and, if she was to fulfil her promise to Christopher Redmayne, it was imperative to speak to her alone.

    She watched and waited until the novelty of the woman's arrival slowly wore off. Lord Eames voiced an opinion concerning the revenue of the Crown and Sir Ralph Holcroft immediately responded to it. The room was suddenly ringing with heady political discussion again. It was Mrs Cardinal who came unwittingly to Susan's aid. Restored by the smelling salts that her son had brought for her, she swooped on Patience Holcroft and brought her across to introduce her to Susan. When she heard that Sir Julius Cheever was a

    Member of Parliament, Lady Holcroft gave Susan a look of sympathy

    'It would be better for you if he'd remained a farmer,' she said.

    'Life would certainly be quieter, Lady Holcroft,' replied Susan. 'But your husband is far more elevated than my father. Does it not excite you that he is so close to the centre of events?'

    'It does, Miss Cheever. I reap the benefits but I also suffer the disadvantages. Sir Ralph's dedication to his work is remarkable but it does take him away from me. This will be the first time this week that we've dined together.'

    'And your husband will spend it talking to other politicians,' noted Mrs Cardinal.

    'At least, we are together,' said Lady Holcroft loyally.

    'That's so important in a marriage, especially in the early years.' Mrs Cardinal shot a meaningful glance at Susan. 'My husband spoiled me. We saw each other every day at first and were rarely apart after that. Jack, my son, was able to pattern himself on his father because he spent so much time with him.'

    'Your circumstances were obviously different, Mrs Cardinal,' said Susan.

    'I chose a man who loved the country so much that he rarely stirred from it. Jack follows him a little in that regard, though he does have something in common with you, Miss Cheever,' she said with a fond smile in her son's direction. 'He loves to kick the earth off his boots from time to time and come to London. You are two of a kind in that respect. Oh, look,' she added, noticing that Lady Eames was alone. 'Our dear hostess is being cruelly neglected by all her guests. Do please excuse me.'

    She displayed a row of small teeth and moved away. Susan knew that it was time to strike because she might not get a second opportunity. Making sure that nobody was within earshot, she took a step closer to Lady Holcroft.

    'I wondered if I might have a word in private with you?' she asked.

    'Why?' replied the other.

    'I've a letter to give you from a friend.'

    Lady Holcroft stiffened. 'A letter? Do I know the person who wrote it?'

    'No, Lady Holcroft.'

    'Then keep it yourself, Miss Cheever. I do not accept missives from strangers.'

    'I was told that it was important to deliver it,' said Susan.

    'No matter.'

    'It's not what you think it might be, Lady Holcroft.'

    'Oh? Why do you say that? Do you know what the letter contains?'

    'No, Lady Holcroft but I trust the young man who wrote it.'

    'Too many young men have tried to involve me in a correspondence.'

    'I can understand that.'

    'As a married woman,' said the other, 'I naturally spurn all their attempts.'

    'The letter was given to me in confidence by a Mr Redmayne.'

    Lady Holcroft recoiled as if from a blow. For a moment, she did not know quite how to react. A stab of pain showed in her eyes. Without warning, she turned abruptly on her heel and walked swiftly away. Susan bit her lip in dismay. She felt that she had let Christopher down badly.

    Jonathan Bale studied the dagger with interest. He held it on the palm of his hand to feel its weight. When he called at the house in Fetter Lane that morning, he found Christopher Redmayne alone. His father had visited the prison again and Jacob was at the market to get some provisions for the larder. It enabled them to talk freely about what each had found out since their last meeting. Jonathan was disturbed to hear of the second attack.

    'I've never seen a weapon quite like this before,' he said, turning the dagger over. 'And he hurled this at you?'

    'Yes, Jonathan.

    'Why did he not draw his sword? If you were dazed by the blows from the cudgel, he had you at a clear disadvantage. One quick thrust of a rapier and you were done for.'

    'He seemed to lose his nerve and flee.'

    'Then he was no practised assassin, Mr Redmayne. If he was the same man who pushed you in the river, you were lucky. He's had two chances to kill you and lacked the skill to take either.'

    Christopher smiled. 'I don't propose to offer him a third opportunity.'

    He no longer wore the bandaging around his head but the bruises had now come out on his arms and shoulders, showing him just how much punishment he had taken. He was grateful to be able to tell his friend about the attack. After handing the dagger back to him, Jonathan described his visit to the home of Sir Humphrey Godden and his night-time vigil outside the tenement where Hannah Liggett lodged. Christopher was interested to hear his opinion.

    'You think that Sir Humphrey is hand-in-glove with our Captain Harvest?'

    'That was the feeling I began to get, sir.'

    'Then why did the captain not seek refuge at the house in Covent Garden? I'll wager that Sir Humphrey could offer him a softer bed than the one he'll find in a tenement near the river.'

    'But he could hardly share it with Hannah Liggett there.'

    'True,' said Christopher. 'And his friend might not want him under his roof. Captain Harvest - or whatever his name really is - belongs to a part of his life that Sir Humphrey chooses to keep hidden from his wife. Well, Jonathan,' he concluded, 'if the two of them are in league together, they must have an accomplice, for it was neither of them who ambushed me outside my stable.'

    'The man who did was not in their employ,' decided Jonathan. 'They'd hire a more seasoned assassin than the one who attacked you. That does not mean you ignore this fellow. I think you need someone to guard you, sir,' he went on, worried for his friend. 'If he's struck twice, he's determined to kill you. Let me act as your protector.'

    'My Lord High Protector?' teased the other.

    'Your life is in danger, Mr Redmayne.'

    'So is my brother's,' said Christopher, 'and he's in no position to defend himself. I am, Jonathan. Thank you for your offer but I can take care of myself. I want the fellow to try again. I'll be more than ready for him.'

    'As you wish, sir.'

    'You keep looking for the man you deprived of his disguise as a soldier. Most likely, he'll have taken on another by now but there are some things even he cannot hide.'

    'I'd know him anywhere, Mr Redmayne,' said Jonathan, moving to the door. 'But I also intend to call at Newgate today. Your brother may be ready to speak to me now.'

    'Do not count on it,' warned Christopher.

    He saw his friend out of the house then returned to the parlour. After examining the dagger again, he slipped it into a drawer. He crossed to the mirror and used a delicate hand to flick hair over the scalp wound that had now dried up. When he heard a tap on the door, he thought that Jonathan had come back but a glance through the window showed that there was a carriage outside the door. Lady Whitcombe had called. Though she was the last person he wished to see at that moment, he conquered the urge to lie low and pretend that he was not at home. Her coachman banged on the door more loudly. As soon as Christopher opened it, Lady Whitcombe alighted from her carriage with the aid of the coachman and surged towards the house. Under her arm were the drawings that Christopher had delivered to her house in Sheen.

    'I'm so glad that I caught you at home,' she said, sweeping past him to go into the house. 'Forgive my descending on you like this, Mr Redmayne, but I've had a change of mind with regard to your design.'

    'You wish to rescind our contract, after all?' he said anxiously, closing the door and following her into the parlour. 'I understood that I was still your architect.'