The Parliament House

    'But you told her how he felt, presumably?'

    'Of course. That's what prompted me to come here.'

    'I don't follow.'

    'It was to issue another warning,' said Susan. 'After protesting for a while, and claiming that she could bring Father and Mrs Kitson back together again, Brilliana finally accepted that it was better to leave things alone. Having failed to engineer Father into a marriage, she's now free to exercise her influence on us again.'

    'Not entirely, Susan.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'It pains me to say this,' he went on, shifting uneasily on the bench, 'but your sister may be distracted by someone else. It's my turn to give you a warning.'

    'About whom?'

    'My brother, Henry. For reasons that I would not dare to explore, he has conceived a passion for Brilliana and intends to woo her.'

    'But she is happily married to Lancelot.'

    'Henry sees the bonds of marriage as a challenge to his ingenuity rather than as any safeguard for a wife. In his mind, no woman is beyond his grasp, however unattainable she might seem. And he insists - though I do not believe him for a second - that your sister has given him some encouragement.'

    Susan was alarmed. 'Your brother certainly made an impact on her,' she said, 'and she kept praising his taste in art. But that should not have been mistaken for encouragement. Brilliana respects her marriage vows.'

    'Henry does not,' cautioned Christopher. 'That's why we must try to put distance between them. When will they return to Richmond?'

    'Not until they are convinced that Father's life is out of danger.'

    'That can only happen when we have caught those responsible for the attempts at killing him. As you may know, we no longer seek the man who actually fired the shots.'

    'Father told me. He was found dead.'

    'Silenced before he was able to tell us who his paymaster was. That's the person we must unmask, Susan. The one who is bent on seeing Sir Julius killed.'

    'Do you have no notion of whom he might be?'

    'One name will bear inspection, Susan.'

    'What name is that?'

    'The Earl of Stoneleigh.'

    An earl?' She was shocked. 'Could he really be behind all this?'

    'Only time will tell. When you arrived, I was just about to go off to make enquiries about him. I can make the first one right now. Did you ever hear your father mention the Earl of Stoneleigh?'

    'Not to me. But I did hear it in passing a number of times.'

    'When your home was turned into a Parliament House?'

    'Yes, Christopher,' she explained. 'I heard Father yelling that name more than once. There was real anger in his voice. And I seem to recall that Mr Bircroft took the earl's name in vain as well.'

    'But he sits in the Upper Chamber. Neither Sir Julius nor his supporters will ever have come face to face with the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

    'That's where you're wrong.' 'Oh?'

    'Father first met him almost twenty years ago,' she said. 'He had not been ennobled then. His name was Cuthbert Woodruffe in those days and he had good cause to remember my father.'

    'Why?'

    'Because he was captured by Colonel Cheever - as Father then was - at the battle of Worcester. He was not held for long. Mr Woodruffe escaped and fled abroad to join the rest of the scattered Royalists. He was so loyal that, after the Restoration, he was granted an earldom.'

    'I see,' said Christopher, thoughtfully. 'So he and Sir Julius faced each other on a battlefield, did they?'

    'Yes,' she replied, 'and that is something not easily forgotten. From what I've heard Father say, the earl has ever forgiven him for being on the winning side that day.'

    'He's waited a long time to take his revenge - if, indeed, that's what he been trying to take. Thank you, Susan,' he said. 'What you've told me is very helpful. The Earl of Stoneleigh clearly needs close examination.'

        Even that late in the day, the Parliament House was reasonably full. As a former chapel, it had no aisle and was an ideal conference chamber. The Members sat in the choir stalls on the north and south walls, crammed in together for important debates. The Speaker's chair was placed where the altar had been, in an elevated position from which he could see and control the entire room. His symbol of office, the Mace, lay on a table where the lectern had once stood. Separated from the main chapel by choir-screen was the ante-chapel that served as a lobby when a vote was taken. Those who wished to register their votes as Ayes filed into the ante-chapel while the Noes were accustomed to remain in the chapel.

    Countless decisions of historic significance had been made there over the years. Debates had raged, reputations had been made and lost, impeachments had added to the drama of the place. It was at once a seat of government and a cockpit of robust argument. That evening, however, the mood was almost light- hearted. Though a debate was in progress, it was of little general interest and most of the Members were not even listening to the exchanges. They were waiting for something else before they were ready to leave. Whispers had passed around the whole chamber and there was an atmosphere of high amusement.

    Eventually, their patience was rewarded. Sir Julius Cheever, who had been there all day, had spent most of it in an anteroom, serving on various House of Commons committees. As one had completed its business, another had taken its place. Only now could he come into the Parliament House itself to take his seat. The moment he appeared, dead silence fell on the chamber and all eyes turned on him. Sir Julius was used to feeling a tide of hostility rolling in his direction but this reception was unlike any he had ever received before.

    'Here he is!' cried someone. 'Hail, Caesar!'

    'Hail, Caesar!' chorused the Members, rising to their feet and lifting their arms in a mock gesture of obeisance. 'Hail, Caesar!'

    The explosion of mirth started. It was not the affectionate laughter of friends but the harsh, derisive, sustained cachinnation of enemies. It went on for minutes, getting ever louder and building to a crescendo. Sir Julius had been howled down in parliament before but this was a more disturbing experience. Almost everyone there was jeering him. He was the laughing stock of the House of Commons and he felt as if he were being pummelled by the deafening noise. What mystified him - and what made his ordeal even worse - was that he had absolutely no idea why he had been singled out for such collective ridicule.

Chapter Eleven

    Henry Redmayne could not miss such a golden opportunity. Though he knew that he should confide in his brother first, he decided to ignore Christopher and deliver his message directly. It would not only earn him certain gratitude, it would give him the chance to get close to Brilliana Serle again. To be in the same city as her was, for him, an exciting experience. To be under the same roof with Brilliana once more would be exhilarating. Accordingly, he ordered his horse to be saddled then rode off towards what he hoped might be Elysium.

    When he reached the house in Westminster, he could not believe his good fortune. Sir Julius Cheever had not yet returned but his elder daughter was there with her husband. Henry was shown into the parlour, almost swooning as he caught a whiff of Brilliana's delicate perfume. He also took note of the suspicion in Lancelot Series eye and realised that he had to get rid of the husband before he could negotiate with the wife. Dispensing with the social niceties, he came straight to the point.