The Parliament House

    Bircroft said nothing but his eyes were pools of eloquence. Bale did not need to stay. He had the answer he sought.

        Christopher Redmayne went to open the front door himself. When he saw the coach draw up outside his house, he thought that Susan Cheever had returned and he rushed to greet her. In fact, it was her father who descended from the vehicle. After issuing a gruff apology for the lateness of the hour, Sir Julius followed the architect into the house and they settled down in the parlour. Sensing that it might be needed, Jacob materialised out of his pantry to place a bottle of brandy and two glasses on the table between them. From the eagerness with which his visitor accepted the offer of a drink, Christopher could see that he was thoroughly jangled.

    'Has something happened, Sir Julius?' he asked.

    'Another attempt has been made to kill me.' 'When? Where?'

    'At the King's Theatre,' said Sir Julius, taking a long sip of his brandy. 'Since musket balls will not bring me down, they are trying to murder my reputation.'

    'I do not understand.'

    'Then let me explain.'

    Sir Julius told him about the savage laughter he had endured from his parliamentary colleagues, and how he had been unable to fathom its cause until Henry Redmayne had arrived at his house. When he recalled the scene in the play that traduced him, he was shaking with uncontrollable anger. By the end of his account, he had finished his brandy and requested another.

    Christopher was annoyed and troubled. His ire was reserved exclusively for his brother. He could see exactly why Henry had concealed the information from him so that he would have an excuse to visit the house in Westminster in the hope of seeing Brilliana Serle. It made Christopher seethe. At the same time, he was deeply concerned for Sir Julius. He had never seen him in such a ravaged condition. His visitor looked like an old bear that had been chained to a stake then attacked by a pack of hounds.

    On any other day, Sir Julius would have beaten them away with a growl of defiance but he was already in a weakened state as the result of a personal setback. Christopher knew how upset he must have been when Sir Julius saw his hopes of a closer relationship with Dorothy Kitson founder on the rocks of a family gathering.

    'This is most unfortunate, Sir Julius,' he said.

    'It's a foul calumny.'

    'Invoke the law and have the scene removed from the play.'

    'Oh, I want more than that, Mr Redmayne,' said the other.

    'When I discussed the matter with Susan, she told me that you and the Earl of Stoneleigh were sworn enemies. He still nurses a grudge against you from the battle of Worcester.'

    'I should have had him hanged when I had the chance!'

    'I gather that you've been a thorn in his flesh ever since you entered parliament.'

    'I've endeavoured to be. Stoneleigh is in the Upper House so we never actually meet, but he has a large following in the Commons - Ninian Teale, Maurice Farwell, Roland Askray, to name but a few. I abhor everything such men represent. Most of all, I loathe Stoneleigh.'

    'Would it surprise you to know that he may have been instrumental in having your friend, Lewis Bircroft, set on by bullies?'

    'Not in the least. But we have no proof.'

    'We do now,' said Christopher. 'Had you arrived ten minutes earlier, you would have heard Jonathan Bale's account of his visit to Mr Bircroft. It's the second time they've spoken.'

    'Then your friend, the constable, has had more conversation with Lewis than I have. Since the beating, he's refused to talk to me and would never name the person who initiated the attack.'

    'He did not name him this evening, Sir Julius. He is clearly in a state of fear. Jonathan, however, is very tenacious. He kept waving the Earl of Stoneleigh in front of him until Mr Bircroft eventually gave himself away.'

    'Lewis was his first victim,' said Sir Julius. 'I am his second.'

    'Except that he used words against you instead of cudgels.'

    'They hurt just as much, Mr Redmayne. Every jibe I received in the chamber was like a physical blow. Well, I am not one to turn the other cheek. When someone hits me, I strike back hard.'

    'You've every right to do so.'

    Sir Julius became conspiratorial. 'I need your help and I must avail myself of your discretion. Before I say another word,' he added, 'I must extract a solemn promise from you. Nothing that passes between us will go any further than this room. Is that agreed?'

    'Agreed, Sir Julius.'

    'It must never reach the ears of my daughters.'

    'As you wish,' said Christopher, unhappy at the thought of having to conceal something else from Susan. 'May I ask why?'

    'Because they would do everything they could to stop me.'

    'Why is that, Sir Julius?'

    'I've challenged the Earl of Stoneleigh to a duel.'

    Christopher was stunned. 'A duel?' 'It's the only way to answer such vile slander against me.'

    'But duelling is against the law.'

    'Then the law must be broken on this occasion. Honour demands it. My challenge has already been sent.'

    'I wish that you'd consulted me before dispatching it, Sir Julius,' said Christopher, worriedly. 'You should first have asked for a full public apology. If that had not been given, resort to litigation would have achieved your ends.'

    'The only way to do that is to kill Stoneleigh.'

    'But he's somewhat younger than you, I believe.'

    'So?' said the other, indignantly. 'Are you suggesting that I do not know how to handle a sword, Mr Redmayne?'

    'Of course not.'

    'Then obey my commands. When my challenge is accepted - as it must surely be - I need you to be standing ready.'

    'Why?' asked Christopher, increasingly alarmed at what he was hearing. 'What do you require of me, Sir Julius?'

    'You will act as one of my seconds.'

       Dorothy Kitson was about to retire to bed when she heard the front door being unlocked. Voices rose up from the hall and she recognised one as belonging to her brother. Putting on her dressing gown, she took up her candle and made her way along the landing.'

    'Is that you, Orlando?' she said.

    'Yes,' he replied, 'and I know that it's an inconvenient time to call but I felt that you should hear the news at once.'

    'What news?' She came down the marble staircase and saw the animation in his face. 'Whatever's happened?'

    'I'll tell you in a moment.'

    Taking a candle from one of the servants, he shepherded her into the parlour and shut the door behind him. Both candles were set on a table so that they cast a glow across the two chairs on which they settled. Dorothy looked bewildered.

    'It's unlike you to call at such an hour, Orlando.'

    'I felt that the tidings could not wait.'

    'What tidings?' 'You have had a narrow escape, Dorothy.'

    'From what?'

    'The ignominy of having your name linked with that of Sir Julius Cheever. I praise the Lord that I rescued you from that.'

    'You are talking in riddles,' she complained.

    'I'm sorry,' he said, reaching out to take her hands. 'I only heard about it myself over supper with friends. It's now the talk of the town, it seems, and will certainly feature in tomorrow's newspapers. A play called The Royal Favourite was performed today at the King's Theatre. It contained a vicious - if highly comical - satire on your erstwhile friend.'

    'Sir Julius Cheever?'

    'In the play, I believe, he is Sir Julius Seize-Her.'