The Repentant Rake (28 page)

    'What
is this bargain you mentioned?'

    'He
refused to show me any of the demands he received. Sir Marcus was angry that I
even knew about them. It was hard work to strike a bargain with him,' said
Christopher, 'but he agreed in the end. If the money is paid and the demands
still continue, he's promised to give me the letters and that extract from
Gabriel Cheever's diary.'

    'But
the demands will stop if you arrest the blackmailer.'

    'I
hope so, Henry.'

    'So why
reach this agreement with Sir Marcus?'

    'To
gain access to vital information in case we fail to catch our man.'

    'We?'
echoed Henry.

    'I'll
take Jonathan Bale with me.'

    'Why?'

    'He's
been assisting me from the start,' explained Christopher.

    Henry
was scornful. 'That flat-footed constable is more hindrance than help.'

    'Mr
Bale is the ideal person for this kind of work.'

    'I
beg leave to doubt that, Christopher. When will the money be handed over?'

    'Tomorrow.'

    'Somewhere
in Covent Garden, as I remember.'

    'Yes,'
confirmed Christopher. 'The details were sent in the first letter to Sir
Marcus. Someone will be waiting to take the money from the designated spot.
He's been there every day at noon so far. When Sir Marcus failed to pay up, the
amount was promptly doubled.'

    'And
he received that chilling extract from Gabriel's damnable diary. What are you
going to do?'

    'Hand
the money over tomorrow while Mr Bale watches from nearby. It is highly
unlikely that the blackmailer will take the money from me in person but the man
who does will carry it to him.' He rubbed his hands in anticipation. 'With
luck, he'll lead Mr Bale to the villain we are after.'

    'The
one who threatened to kill me.'

    'That
was a trick to make you pay up at once.'

    'It
does not feel like a trick,' moaned Henry, putting a palm to his forehead. 'It
has robbed me of sleep every night this past week. The Sword of Damocles hangs
over me. Well,' he added grimly, 'the sword of a jealous husband to be exact.
All the rogue has to do is to send that letter to Lord Ulvercombe and I am as
good as dead.'

    'I
still believe that you should get in touch with the lady herself.'

    'Fatal.'

    'Is
it?'

    'Her
husband stands guard over her day and night. It was only when business called
him away that I could get anywhere near her.'

    'Lady
Ulvercombe deserves to be warned.'

    'Not
by me, Christopher.'

    'Could
you not write to her?'

    'And
have my correspondence intercepted by that mad husband of hers? Oh, no!'
asserted Henry. 'I've already written one letter to her that is a possible
suicide note. Why tempt Fate with a second?'

    'How
did your
billet-doux
fall into the wrong hands?' said Christopher.
'That's what puzzles me. Someone must have stolen it from her. Lady Ulvercombe
may have some idea who that could be. It's another means of unmasking the
blackmailer, Henry. Is there nobody who could act as an intermediary between
you and the lady?'

    'No,
Christopher.'

    'There
must be a reliable confidant.'

    'The
liaison was strictly a private affair. Nobody else knew about it - until now,
that is. Do not vex me with questions,' he complained as his head pounded. 'My
only concern is to stop Lord Ulvercombe from killing me in a duel.'

    'I share
the same ambition, Henry.'

    'Then
reclaim my
billet-doux
before anyone else can read it.'

    'I'll
do my best,' promised Christopher. 'But do be more discreet next time.'

    Henry
grimaced. 'There will
be
no next time.'

    'You
always say that.'

    'Henceforth,
I'll confine myself to unmarried ladies. If I live to do so.'

    Christopher
smiled confidently. 'Have no qualms on that score, Henry. By this time
tomorrow, your worries may all be over and you will be forced to concede what a
splendid fellow Jonathan Bale is.'

    'If
he gets me off this hook, I'll sing his praises like a choir of angels.'

    'He
would enjoy that.' He turned away. 'I'll leave you to get some rest.'

    Henry
raised a weary arm. 'One moment, Christopher.'

    'Yes?'

    'When
that first blackmail demand arrived you urged me not to pay.'

    'So?'

    'Now
you are trying to tempt the villain out into the light of day by handing over
some money to him. Why act on behalf of Sir Marcus Kemp when you could have
done exactly the same for me?'

    Christopher
went back to him. 'How much were you asked for, Henry?'

    'Five
hundred guineas.'

    'Do
you have that amount in hand?'

    'Of
course not.'

    'Then
how did you propose to raise it?'

    'From
friends,' said Henry airily.

    'What
about me?'

    'I
would have started with you, naturally, Christopher. But the bulk of the money
would have come from the one man who can afford such a sum without blinking an
eye.'

    'Sir
Marcus Kemp.'

    'Precisely.'

    'Would
you have wanted to go cap in hand to him?'

    'It
would have been galling.'

    'Then
I've spared you that as well. Now you see what brothers are for, Henry. I want
to help. When I hand over that money tomorrow, you will not have to worry about
paying a penny of it back to the man who would have loaned it to you.'

    Henry
rallied visibly. 'How profoundly true! Whether I pay or he does, it is all one.
Sir Marcus Kemp's money is handed over either way. You have done me a favour,
Christopher. My headache is easing already.'

    'Do
not swallow gudgeons ere they're catched.'

    'What
do you mean?'

    'It
will not be easy to net this blackmailer,' warned Christopher. 'Even with the
redoubtable Mr Bale at my side, we will need good fortune if we are to succeed.'

    Sir
Julius Cheever had been disappointed that his daughter-in-law wanted to return
so soon to London. It cut short the time in which they could develop their
acquaintance. He had been even less pleased when Susan announced that she
wished to travel back with Lucy, and the old man needed a great deal of
persuasion before he consented. Sir Julius himself felt that his place was in
the family home, mourning his son in the parish where he was born and brought
up. The thought of subjecting himself again to the hospitality of his elder
daughter and her husband deprived him of even the slightest urge to travel back
to the city. Accordingly, the two young women departed without him, joining a
large group of travellers for safety.

    The jolting
of the coach and the presence of Anna, the maidservant, made any intimate
conversation impossible but Susan and Lucy did manage to spend some time
together during the two overnight stops that the party made at roadside inns.
Over supper on the second of those nights, Susan Cheever felt that she was at
last beginning to win her sister-in-law's confidence.

    'I
cannot thank you enough for this,' said Lucy. 'It would have been so dismal to
go back to that empty house on my own.'

    'You
have Anna.'

    'It
is not the same, Susan. I need someone to whom I can talk about Gabriel.'

    'You
can do that as much as you wish.'

    'Coming
from his wife this may sound strange, but I feel as if I never really knew him
properly. All the time we were in Northamptonshire, I kept learning things
about him that he never even mentioned.'

    'Such
as?'

    'Angling,'
said Lucy. 'It turns out that he had a passion for angling. Sir Julius used to
take him fishing when he was a little boy.'

    Susan
nodded. 'Yes,' she said. 'And they always caught something for the table. I
remember how upset Father was when Gabriel became so skilled with a line that
he managed to catch more fish than him.'

    'Why
did Gabriel never talk about angling to me?'

    'It
belonged to the past that he chose to forget.'

    'Yet
it was something he
enjoyed,
Susan.'

    'Gabriel
enjoyed most things. That's what I envied about him. His capacity for sheer
enjoyment was remarkable. It's something that I never had.' She pulled a face.
'Nor did Brilliana.'

    'She
never seems to enjoy anything.'

    'That's
not entirely true.'

    Lucy
lowered her voice. 'Why did your sister marry Mr Serle?'

    'Because
he asked her.'

    'But
she is so critical of him.'

    'Brilliana
is critical of all men,' explained Susan, 'which is why so many of them were
terrified of getting too close to her. She had suitors from all over the
Midlands but they always turned tail in the end. Lancelot Serle did not.'

    'Does
he still love her?'

    'Very
much. When Brilliana lets him.'

    'Gabriel
told me very little about her except that she had rejected him.'

    'She
never had much time for him, I'm afraid.' Susan looked at her companion over
the dancing flames of the candle. They were seated at a table in a quiet
corner. The atmosphere was conducive to an exchange of intimacies. 'Talking to
you makes me feel that I never knew him all that well either.'

    'How
could you when you were apart for so long?'

    'Whole
areas of his life were a closed book to me.'

    Lucy gave
a half-smile. 'Perhaps that is just as well.'

    'Did
he tell you everything about his past?'

    'Everything
that I wished to know.'

    'And
was there anything that you did not, Lucy?'

    'Oh,
yes. I thought it best to draw a veil of decency over much of it.'

    'You
were very wise,' agreed Susan, wondering if it was the right moment to probe a
little more deeply. 'Did he tell you that he sent me one of his poems?'

    'Yes,
he did.'

    'It
was very sad but so beautiful. I had no idea he had such talent.'

    'Gabriel
was a wonderful writer.'

    'Did
you read everything that he wrote?'

    'Only
what he chose to show me.' Lucy's face lit up. 'Several of the poems were
written especially for me. Gabriel always said that they were his best work.'

    'He
was truly inspired.'

    'I
never read any of his plays. There was no point, Susan. I've never been to the
theatre and have no idea what makes a good play. Besides,' she said with a
little shrug, 'I think that Gabriel felt I might not approve.'

    'What
about his diary?' She saw Lucy's jaw tighten. 'You did know that he kept a
diary?'

    'Of
course.'

    'Were
you allowed to look at it?'

    'Gabriel
never tried to stop me from doing anything.'

    'So
you did read the diary?'

    'Bits
of it,' admitted Lucy. 'It was like reading about a complete stranger.'

    'Were
you shocked?'

    'To
some degree. But I was also very amused.'