The Parliament House

    'I need to speak to Sir Julius at once,' he said.

    'Father is still at the Parliament House,' returned Brilliana.

    'So I was told by the servant who admitted me. I think that your father should be rescued from there at the earliest opportunity.'

    'Rescued?' said Serle. 'Is he in some kind of danger?'

    'Grave danger - though not of a physical kind.'

    'I do not understand, Mr Redmayne.'

    'I'm not able to enlighten you just yet, I fear,' said Henry. 'It's a matter of the utmost discretion. I'm sure that Sir Julius would rather hear my news in confidence. Only he can decide whether it should reach a wider audience.'

    'But we are his family,' said Brilliana.

    'And how fortunate he is in having such a daughter.'

    'Can you not even give us a hint what this news portends?'

    'No, Mrs Serle. I simply want to place certain facts at the disposal of your father. It might explain what has probably happened to him at the House of Commons today.'

    'And what is that?' asked Serle.

    'Only he can tell you.'

    'You have me troubled, sir.'

    'Mr Serle,' said Henry, trying to manoeuvre time alone with Brilliana, 'if you have your father-in-law's best interests at heart, you would go and fetch him at once.'

    'I can hardly drag him out of a debate.'

    'Oh, there will be no debate, I assure you. My guess is that Sir Julius will be relieved to see a friendly face. He'll need no persuasion to come home with you.'

    'Do as Mr Redmayne suggests,' urged Brilliana.

    'Your father will soon return of his own volition.'

    'This is a matter of great importance, Lancelot.'

    'A true emergency,' insisted Henry.

    'Then why not go yourself?' said Serle, unwilling to leave the two of them alone. 'You could have ridden to parliament instead of coming here.'

    'What use would that have been? The name of Henry Redmayne carries no weight with Sir Julius. If I were to have a message sent to him in the chamber, he would surely disregard it. If, however,' he went on, pointing at Serle, 'he hears that his son- in-law is without, he will respond immediately.'

    'What are you waiting for?' demanded Brilliana, pushing her husband towards the door. 'Away with you.'

    'Not until I know what this is all about,' said her husband.

    'It's about Father. What else do you need to know?'

    'Think of the perils he's come through recently,' added Henry. 'This is the latest of them and, perhaps, the most agonising. It will be a cruel blow to his pride.'

    'Lancelot - go!'

    With obvious misgivings, Serle left the room. After closing the door behind him, Henry turned to feast his eyes on Brilliana. She was even more gorgeous than he had remembered. Her fragrance was captivating. He took a few steps towards her.

    'Mrs Serle, I cannot pretend that concern for your father was the only thing that brought me here this evening. I had hoped - nay, I'd fervently prayed - that I might be rewarded with a glimpse of you as well.' 'Why, thank you,' she said, smiling at the compliment.

    'Since our chance meeting the other day, my mind has dwelt constantly upon you. Am I being presumptuous in thinking that you might have entertained pleasant memories of me?'

    'Not at all. We enjoyed our visit to your house.'

    'No guest was more welcome.'

    'You have such an original taste in decoration.'

    'I'm known for it.'

    'And you are so utterly unlike your brother, Christopher.'

    'We are equally talented - but in very different ways.'

    'That's what I sensed.'

    He took a step closer and beamed at her. Striking a pose, he turned what he believed to be his better profile towards her. Brilliana was struck by the arresting flamboyance of his attire and by his Cavalier elegance. What she found slightly unsettling was the intensity of his manner. When she had met him before, she had her husband beside her, a line of safety behind which she could retreat at any point. Because Serle had been there, she had felt able to be bold and forthcoming with a new acquaintance. Now, however, she had nobody to give her that invisible sense of security. As he stepped even nearer, Brilliana retreated involuntarily.

    'Why do you flee from me, Mrs Serle?'

    'I was merely adjusting my dress,' she said, playing with the folds of her skirt. 'Pray, do sit down while you are waiting.'

    'I'd sooner stand in your presence - stand or kneel.'

    'Mr Redmayne, I do believe that you are teasing me.'

    'Not at all,' he assured her, producing his most disarming smile. 'I'd never even dream of it. I seek only your happiness. To that end,' he said, 'I will not rest until I have furthered your husband's political ambitions and found a way to introduce him at Court.'

    'Lancelot is having second thoughts about that.'

    'But you deserve a husband with such achievements to his name.'

    'I still hope to have one,' said Brilliana, 'in the fullness of time. Thank you very much for your generous offer. It is much appreciated but Lancelot prefers to forge his own destiny.'

    'And so do I.'

    Henry took a deep breath. This was his moment. The speech that he had honed to perfection over the years was trembling on the tip of his tongue. It had never failed him, melting the heart of any woman who heard it and sweeping aside any lingering reservations that she might have. Brilliana was there for the taking. He had the familiar sensation of power as the blood coursed through his veins. He was ready to strike. Henry put a hand to his breast in a gesture of love. Before he could ensnare her in the seductive poetry of his declaration, however, the door opened and Susan Cheever entered. She took in the situation at a glance.

    'Good evening, Mr Redmayne,' she said, blithely.

    'Oh, good evening, Miss Cheever.'

    'How nice to see you again! I apologise for this interruption. You don't mind if I spirit my sister away for a moment, do you?' said Susan, crossing the room to take a grateful Brilliana by the arm so that she could lead her out. 'There's something that I must show her.'

    The pair of them swept out. Henry wilted.

    The Polegate family did not return to London until late afternoon, so it was evening by the time that Jonathan Bale called on the vintner. He was invited into the counting house.

    'How was your journey, sir?' said Bale.

    'Slow and uncomfortable. We left with heavy hearts.'

    'Mr Redmayne told me about the funeral. He was very moved by the ceremony. He said that it was conducted with great dignity.'

    'That's the least my brother-in-law deserved,' said Polegate. 'We stayed on for a few days to console his wife. I assume that you've come to tell me about the progress of the investigation into Bernard's death? Has anything happened in our absence?'

    'Yes, sir. We found the man who shot him.'

    'You did? That's cheering news. Has he been imprisoned?'

    'Alas, no.' 'Why not?'

    'Because he was no longer alive when we caught up with him.'

    Bale described their visit to Old Street and told him what conclusions had been drawn from the murder of Dan Crothers. The vintner was disturbed.

    'Are you telling me that my brother-in-law was killed by a meat porter?' he said with patent disgust. 'Bernard was a man of great intelligence. He was a politician, a philosopher and a scholar. It's horrifying to think that he was shot by some illiterate labourer from the lower orders.'