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When a door opened, everyone struggled to their feet. Queen Anne hobbled into the room and cut anything but a regal figure. Flat-faced, overweight and plagued by gout, she wore apparel that verged on the drab. When she took her seat at the head of the table, there was a loud scraping of chairs as the others lowered themselves down again. After looking around the faces that peeped out from their periwigs, she gave Harley a nod. He was a poor speaker with a dry voice but for once it had some sparkle in it.

‘Thank you, Your Majesty,’ he began. ‘As Secretary of State, it is my duty to open this meeting and to set before you the business that we have to discuss.’

Though he carried on, he did so over audible murmurs of protest from some ministers. The noise slowly built until it was too concerted to be ignored. Harley came to a halt and glanced at the Queen in consternation. Feeling that his position was secure, he’d never anticipated that he might face opposition. He looked down at the notes in front of him but he was quite unable to read them out. While Harley dithered and while the Queen shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the Duke of Somerset rose with dignity. His eyes flicked meaningfully at the two empty chairs at the table.

‘I do not see how we can deliberate,’ he boomed, ‘when the Commander-in-Chief and the Lord Treasurer are absent.’

The announcement was greeted with murmurs of agreement and someone patted the table by way of approval. Somerset had clearly voiced a general opinion. Robin the Trickster made no reply. Facing humiliation, he had no idea what to do. Queen Anne was unable to help him out of his predicament. She, too, was squirming with embarrassment. Somerset pressed home his advantage and repeated his earlier statement. After a long and extremely awkward silence, the Queen realised that a form of mutiny was taking place and that she had no means of quelling it. The unthinkable had occurred. She’d lost her control of the Council table.

‘This meeting is formally ended,’ she said.

Flushing angrily, and with lips pursed in exasperation, she got up and tottered out of the room. Muted laughter broke out and a few handshakes were exchanged as ministers congratulated each other on having made their point so forcefully. An important event had just occurred and it had constitutional significance. They’d openly defied the wishes of their sovereign and won a victory.

Harley was mortified. He could only sit there in hurt silence and reflect that, for once, his trickery had woefully miscarried.

Daniel Rawson’s second visit to Holywell House was in marked contrast to the first one. He’d left on that occasion in a mood that bordered on despair but he now returned with alacrity. He was shown into the library and found Marlborough there, talking with his private secretary, Adam Cardonnel. They looked up as Daniel entered.

‘Come in, come in,’ said Marlborough, affably. ‘Your honour was but lately in our thoughts.’

‘I rode here as soon as I received your letter, Your Grace,’ said Daniel. ‘Let me congratulate you on being restored to the command that you should never have relinquished.’

‘It was very gratifying.’

‘A gross injustice has been righted.’

‘I agree with you, Daniel,’ said Cardonnel. ‘Her Majesty has been saved from making the most calamitous mistake of her reign.’

‘And there have been a few of those,’ said Marlborough under his breath. ‘But don’t just stand there, man. Take a seat.’

‘Thank you, Your Grace.’

Daniel sat down opposite them. Delighted to find Marlborough in such high spirits, he was also pleased to see Cardonnel again. The secretary was a vital member of the captain general’s staff. A neat, handsome, engaging man, Cardonnel was a model of efficiency. He was also tireless, tactful and intensely loyal. He and Daniel had something in common. Both were refugees. In 1685, when Daniel and his mother fled after the battle of Sedgemoor, Cardonnel and his Huguenot family hastily left France to avoid the slaughter that followed the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes.

‘Order and common sense are restored,’ observed Cardonnel.

‘They should never have been abandoned in the first place,’ said Daniel. ‘What on earth persuaded Her Majesty to dispense with her acknowledged champion?’

‘Someone whispered in her ear, Daniel.’

‘Who was that?’

‘It matters not. He’s been summarily dismissed now.’

‘It’s no more than Robin the Trickster deserves,’ opined Marlborough, ‘but he wasn’t the only villain here. A maggot had wriggled its way into the royal apple. It goes by the name of Abigail Masham, one of Her Majesty’s bedchamber women. My dear wife will tell you all about that devious little baggage. Suffice it to say that we are — if not exactly in favour again — firmly in charge of operations.’

‘Those are the best tidings I could wish to hear, Your Grace.’

‘Thank you, Daniel.’

‘What are my orders?’

‘I’ll come to those,’ said Marlborough. ‘First, I wish to tender my apologies for sending you away so brusquely when you last called. I’ve now read the correspondence you brought and it’s been enlightening.’

‘There was another matter I’d hoped to raise with you.’

‘Speak on. This is your opportunity.’

‘It concerns a harrowing incident, Your Grace.’

Daniel told them about the destruction of the farm and the murder of its occupants. Marlborough was aghast when he heard that it was the work of British soldiers.

‘Are you sure about this, Daniel?’ he asked, bristling.

‘The farmer was very precise.’

‘No soldiers under my command would dare do such a thing.’

‘I can only report what I saw and heard.’

‘This is outrageous,’ said Marlborough, slapping his thigh. ‘I’m grateful that you brought this to my attention. I’ll institute a search for these devils at once. When you return to Flanders this week, you can bear a letter on the subject to General Cadogan.’

‘I’ll gladly do so, Your Grace,’ said Daniel, ‘and I’ll pursue the matter on my own account as well. I have a strong personal interest in seeing these men caught and hanged. Wearing our uniforms, they behaved like savages.’

They came by night. While some of them rustled the cattle and seized the rest of the livestock, others set fire to the barn and to the stables. When the flames began to lick hungrily at the farmhouse itself, its occupants flung open the shutters to see what had caused the conflagration. They were instantly shot dead. As the fire roared on with deafening force, their bodies were soon burnt and blackened beyond recognition. The redcoats took on a deeper hue in the dazzling light. They had struck again. All that would be left behind him were sizzling embers. On a command from their leader, the men rode off with their booty, their harsh laughter echoing through the night.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘Oh, you’re still alive then,’ said Welbeck with heavy sarcasm. ‘I thought you were either dead or that you’d run off to join the enemy.’

‘You know me better than that, Henry.’

‘In the old days, I did, but I saw a lot more of you then.’

‘Things have changed,’ said Daniel. ‘Since I joined His Grace’s personal staff, I can’t spend as much time with the regiment as I’d like. I have other duties.’

‘Yes…chasing women around the bedroom.’