The Parliament House

    He told her what he had heard from someone who had actually witnessed the performance, and Dorothy sat there with an expression of dismay on her face. When he had finished, Orlando Golland was almost giggling with pleasure.

    'Well? What do you think of that?'

    'I think it very unkind of you to take such satisfaction from someone else's pain,' she reproached. 'It's unworthy of you, Orlando.'

    'It was the laughter of relief,' he said, trying to be more serious. 'I was celebrating my sister's escape from her unwise entanglement with Sir Julius. Were you and he about to contemplate marriage, then you would have suffered this public disgrace along with him.'

    'I do suffer it. I have the greatest sympathy for him.'

    'Sir Julius deserved it.'

    'I disagree.'

    'He's upset too many people - Stoneleigh among them.'

    'Cuthbert?' she said. 'This is one of his plays?'

    'Yes, Dorothy,' he replied. 'And from what I hear, it's nothing short of a masterpiece. Sir Julius has been well and truly stoned by the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

    'How cruel!'

    'It will finish him.'

    'What do you mean?

    'Even someone as obtuse and insensitive as Sir Julius will not be able to shrug this off. Public humiliation will force him to quit London and run all the way back home.'

    'You are quite mistaken,' she said. 'Sir Julius is neither obtuse nor insensitive. In some ways, he's one of the most sensitive men I've ever met. This will not simply wound him. It will shake him to the core. But he'll not take flight, Orlando,' she predicted. 'Of that you may be certain. You reckon without his pride.'

    'When he reads tomorrow's newspapers, he will have none left.'

    'You underrate him badly.'

    'My guess is that he may already have left the city.'

    'Then you do not know him as well as I. He will stay.'

    'As long as he does not turn to you for succour,' said Golland. That would be too much to bear. I'd hoped that Stoneleigh's play would chase the old fool out of the capital, not send him running to your arms.'

    'At a time like this,' she said, 'Sir Julius needs friends. He'll find plenty of compassion here. I judge it to be heartless of Cuthbert to indulge in such gratuitous spite, and I shall tell him so if I see him. I feel sorry for anyone who is pilloried on stage like that.'

    'So do I,' said Golland, complacently, 'but not in this case. I've never been a theatregoer but, if the play is ever staged again, I will make certain that I'm there to see it.'

       Henry Redmayne was still trying to appease his employer by working at the Navy Office in the mornings. It was a torment. Two servants were needed to get him out of bed, the barber was on hand to shave him and a breakfast was prepared for him even though he barely touched it. He was on the point of leaving that morning when his brother presented himself at the door.

    'Christopher,' he said. 'What on earth has brought you here?'

    'Anger,' replied his brother, using the flat of his hand to push him backwards into the hall. 'Anger, disappointment and disgust.'

    'Such emotions can hardly have been engendered by me.'

    'All three, Henry, and many more besides. I'm angry because you hid something important from me that I had a right to be told. I'm disappointed because I did not think you'd go behind my back to consort with a man I regard as a murder suspect. And,' he continued with rising iritation, 'I'm disgusted that a brother of mine should enter a house under false pretences so that he could ogle a married woman under the nose of her husband.'

    'Brilliana wants me.'

    'Only in the confines of your fevered mind.'

    'She does, Christopher. I saw it in her eyes.'

    'And what do you see in my eyes?'

    Henry was frightened by the look of fierce displeasure that his brother shot him. He had never seen Christopher roused to such a pitch of fury before. He tried to mollify him.

    'I can explain everything,' he said, palms upraised. 'Yes, I did attend the play yesterday, and it did cross my mind that I should come straight to you afterwards.'

    'Why did you not come before the play was performed?'

    'Before?'

    'Yes, Henry,' said his brother. 'If we had known what the play contained, we could have moved to stop it before its poison was displayed on stage. You are a friend of the Earl of Stoneleigh. When you heard that his play was being revived, you must have been aware that new material had been added.'

    'I did and I did not.'

    'Don't prevaricate!'

    'I knew that Cuthbert had introduced a new scene into the play but I swear that I did not know what it contained.'

    'But you were told that it related to Sir Julius Cheever?'

    'Yes and no.'

    'You are doing it again!' protested Christopher.

    'Cuthbert hinted that a certain Member of Parliament would find it very uncomfortable if he were seated in the audience. No name was given, I assure you.'

    'But one was implied. In short, you knew.'

    'Let us just say that I had a vague idea.'

    'Henry, you appall me sometimes,' said Christopher, barely able to keep his hands off him. 'You are fully cognisant of the situation. A man was murdered in place of Sir Julius. A second attempt was made on his life. Your own brother was involved in tracking down the killer. Yet you say nothing - nothing at all - when you are forewarned by a friend that his play will contain a brutal attack on Sir Julius.'

    'It was comical rather than brutal, Christopher.'

    'Only to those who enjoy the sport of blood-letting.'

    'And I could hardly alert you to something that I had not actually seen. All that you would have had was a rumour. That would not have been enough to halt the performance.'

    'It would have prepared Sir Julius for what was to come.'

    Henry sniggered. 'It was highly amusing, I must admit.'

    'Yes,' said Christopher, vehemently. 'And the moment you stopped laughing, you put on a different face and have the gall to tell Sir Julius that it was a trial to sit through so unjust a lampoon. The only reason you even bothered to tell him was so that you could get within reach of Brilliana Serle.'

    'And, by a miracle, I did. But she was snatched away from me at the critical moment. I'll never forgive Susan for doing that.'

    'I must remember to congratulate her.'

    'A man must follow the dictates of love.'

    'I'll not have you dignifying your lust as pure romance.'

    'You've never understood the promptings of my heart.'

    'I understand them only too well,' said Christopher, 'and I pity the poor wretches who are victims of them. Well, Mrs Serle is not going to be one of them. To sneak into her company on the pretext of helping her father was improper, immoral and ignoble. I've never felt so ashamed of you in all my life.'

    Henry yawned. 'Your impersonation of Father is very tiresome.'

    'He'd disown you if he knew what you had done - disown you and deprive you of your generous allowance. Where would you be without that?'

    'You will surely not tell him of this?' said Henry, suddenly afraid. 'I need that money, Christopher.'

    'Then do something to earn it or, by this hand, I'll let him know what kind of a son you are. What you did was unpardonable but you can at least try to repair some of the damage. Now,' said Christopher, advancing on him, 'this is what I want you to do.'