Faith pulled an unpleasant face. ‘I could have saved myself the bother. Dalton would have killed himself anyway, had we waited. He was preparing a firebomb to kill his wife, and was so agitated that he was all fingers and thumbs – not a good way to be with explosives. But, like Livesay before him, he told us a lot about the Seven before I dispatched him to Hell.’
‘I suppose that is why Metje – and Evett – kept encouraging me to work for Dalton in preference to the Earl,’ said Chaloner bitterly. ‘They claimed he offered better prospects, but in reality they wanted me to provide them – to provide you – with details of his activities. Likewise, Metje urged me to work for Thurloe when she learned I had been his spy, even though I told her it was dangerous and I wanted to see our daughter … But why did you always insist that Livesay was dead?’
But he did not need North to answer. The truth was that impersonating a man almost everyone else thought was dead had been a good way to send Dalton mad.
‘No more questions,’ snapped Faith. ‘Thurloe’s unexpected appearance means we need to review our plans. I cannot think with all this chatter, so sit quietly, or I will shoot you.’
‘When Praisegod Swanson sent the–’ began Chaloner. Faith jammed the barrel into his temple and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp click. The gun had misfired. Temperance screamed and tried to struggle free. Chaloner started to draw his pistol, but could not be sure of shooting Faith while Temperance flailed. Then he saw the shadow in the window again – a silhouette with a bandaged head. It was Bennet, and he was busily winding a crossbow, clearly intending to shoot someone inside the room. When the man glanced up and glared directly at him, Chaloner had the feeling he would be Bennet’s first victim.
‘You do not mention Praisegod,’ snarled Faith, white-lipped with fury. ‘His name is too good to be on the tongue of a Chaloner.’
‘My God,’ breathed Thurloe, gazing at North. ‘I thought you seemed familiar, and now I see it. You are Praisegod’s father! And his mother and sister – Temperance, with Praisegod’s chestnut hair. That is why Livesay’s minister told you what the man had confessed. He was telling you what had happened to your son!’
‘All this is for Praisegod,’ said North softly, gesturing around him. ‘We changed our names and came to London for him. He was a child – an innocent child. He went to the Protector’s court to sing, because he had such a sweet voice. Someone betrayed the Seven, and Barkstead killed Praisegod for it. But Praisegod was not the traitor.’
‘How do you know?’ asked Chaloner. He glanced at the window. Bennet was still arming his weapon, pausing occasionally to glower. Chaloner considered pointing him out to the others, but hesitated, wondering whether he could turn the malignant presence to his advantage.
‘Because he was not interested in politics,’ shouted Faith, tears starting in her eyes. ‘He sang. He liked music. That was his life. Music.’
‘Then why did Barkstead believe him guilty?’
‘Ask Thurloe.’
Thurloe shook his head. ‘I was preoccupied with a Dutch crisis at the time, and only heard later that Barkstead had uncovered the man who told the King about the Seven. Barkstead said he had found seven gold bars in Praisegod’s room, and a few days later I intercepted a letter signed by Praisegod, listing our names. I had no reason to disbelieve Barkstead’s conclusion – but I only learned this week that Barkstead had actually killed him.’
Faith closed her eyes. ‘Barkstead was wrong!’ She hugged her daughter tighter still, and Chaloner saw Temperance struggling to breathe under the force of the embrace.
Leybourn appealed to the servants. ‘And you are content with this? You are willing to risk hanging to avenge an ancient murder?’
‘It is not ancient,’ said Faith bitterly, taking a gun from Henry and indicating he could resume his work on the grenades. ‘And if God does not strike his killers, then I shall be His instrument.’
‘Let Tom and Will go,’ said Thurloe quietly. ‘Any crime committed here is mine, not theirs.’
‘You are beginning to understand,’ said Faith with a smile that was chillingly malicious.
Bennet took aim and Chaloner ducked behind Hill. He saw Bennet’s lips move in a curse. But something was wrong anyway, and the chamberlain shook the weapon before beginning the process of rewinding, his face a mask of fury.
‘Two of your friends will die today for what you did,’ Faith continued, addressing Thurloe. ‘You should not have embroiled them in your business, just as we should not have sent Praisegod to the wolves of Court.’
‘We should finish this, Faith,’ said North quietly. ‘Time is running out.’
Faith directed her gun at Leybourn. ‘We will lock Thurloe in the cellar until Downing has done his work with “Livesay’s” letter. Chaloner and the bookseller can die now – we do not want them in our way, and we will tell everyone that Livesay killed them, before he disappeared never to be seen or heard of again.’
‘But Thurloe will tell his accusers what really happened,’ blurted Leybourn, ducking away from her. ‘And he still has powerful friends. Someone will believe him.’
‘No one will speak for a man accused of high treason,’ said Faith, squinting at him down the barrel. ‘It would be suicide. And it will be too late for you, anyway. Stop fidgeting or I may miss.’
Leybourn jumped into the centre of the room and dropped to his knees. ‘Allow me to say a prayer first. You are Puritans – you will not deny a doomed man a word with God.’
Faith’s gun tracked his movements, but North stepped forward and pushed her hand to one side.
‘We are not Barkstead,’ he said softly. ‘Let him have his say with the Almighty.’
Irritably, Faith pulled her arm away from her husband, and fixed the cowering bookseller in her sights a second time. Meanwhile, Bennet had finished arming his crossbow, and took aim at the man who had made a fool of him over his list of Thurloe’s ‘brothers’. Temperance began to struggle furiously, but the arm that held her was like a vice, and she was powerless to do anything to prevent her mother’s finger from tightening on the trigger as she prepared to dispatch Leybourn.
‘Bennet!’ shouted Hill suddenly, as he caught sight of the figure in the window. ‘My old friend!’
Instinctively, North turned, and Thurloe launched himself at his back. Faith yelled a warning and tried to fling Temperance away from her. Chaloner brought up his own gun and fired at Bennet, but not before the chamberlain had released one of his deadly bolts. It sliced through the window and punched into Hill’s Bible. The preacher dropped it with a shriek of terror. Bennet disappeared, although whether he had been shot or had gone to reload, Chaloner could not tell. Meanwhile, Thurloe and North were entwined in a deadly embrace, and Faith had rid herself of the squirming Temperance. She aimed her pistol at Chaloner, but the shot went wide when Thurloe inadvertently stumbled into her.
When Faith turned on the ex-Spymaster with blazing eyes, Chaloner grabbed the tablecloth and hauled with all his might. Fireballs, oil and powder spilled everywhere. Henry released a cry of alarm and leapt away, while Faith hurled herself at Chaloner, clawing his face and flailing with her fists as she vented her rage. Leybourn was on his feet, laying about him with a chair, and everywhere was chaos. Metje had a dagger, although Chaloner was not sure whom she intended to stab. Temperance was trying to haul her mother away from him, while Hill lay on the floor with his hands over his head. Then Henry collided with a lamp, knocking it from its moorings and sending it crashing on to its side. Fuel spilled, and flames followed.