‘It has been a long day,’ she said with quiet dignity. ‘And we are all tired, blurting things without thinking. Good afternoon to you, My Lord Chancellor.’
‘The King has invited us to his apartments tomorrow,’ called O’Brien, over his shoulder as she tugged him away. ‘It is to be a small affair for his close friends.’
Chaloner was fairly sure O’Brien was only trying to convey to the Earl that not everyone at Court shunned him because he was newly rich, but the reality was that there were few remarks that could have been more wounding. Clarendon’s prissiness and tendency to nag meant he was losing the King’s affection, and it had been a long time since he had enjoyed a private soirée in the royal apartments. It was the Earl’s turn to flounder for a response.
Meanwhile, Hyde was livid at his father’s lack of courtesy. He spoke through gritted teeth.
‘They may be upstarts, but the King likes them, and it is foolish to alienate people who have his ear. Moreover, Leighton is trying to get them to invest their fortune with the Adventurers, and if they do, we can buy another ship. We shall all be richer if they join, and we have been asked to do what we can to persuade them. That does not include having them insulted by our sires.’
The Earl’s face was puce with fury at being challenged, and to prevent a family spat in a public place, Frances asked before he could speak, ‘Are they resisting, then, Henry?’
Hyde pulled a face. ‘Yes, because they dislike the fact that we trade in slaves. But such scruples have no place in commerce, which they should accept if they are going to join the ranks of the wealthy. Please do not offend them again, father. I do not want Leighton vexed with me.’
He trotted after them, leaving Clarendon spluttering with impotent rage. He caught up with them just as they stopped to exchange words with their friend Spymaster Williamson. Chaloner tuned out the Earl’s furious diatribe, and watched O’Brien greet Williamson with a happy grin; Kitty approached in such a way that her fingers brushed the Spymaster’s thigh. Chaloner gaped in astonishment, but then Kersey’s words flashed into his mind: that Kitty had taken a lover. But surely it could not be Williamson? O’Brien was his oldest friend!
‘We have been asked to the King’s private apartments,’ O’Brien announced with open delight. He was clearly a man for whom invitations were important. ‘What fun!’
‘You will soon have your wish of being accepted into high society,’ said Williamson warmly. ‘God knows, you deserve it. There is no better company in England than you.’
O’Brien laughed his pleasure, but then Hyde grabbed his arm and steered him and Kitty towards a gaggle of Adventurers, leaving Williamson to continue alone. The indulgent smile had been replaced by grim determination by the time the Spymaster reached Chaloner.
‘I need to see you urgently,’ he whispered. ‘Come to my Westminster office tomorrow.’
Chaloner nodded, although he had no intention of complying. They might have reached a truce, but he was not such a fool as to step willingly into Williamson’s lair.
‘Do not go,’ ordered the Earl, when the Spymaster had gone. The whiteness of his lips said he was still seething. ‘His assassin has abandoned him, and word is that he is looking for a replacement. And you work for me.’
Frances cleared her throat, claiming the attention of both of them. She beamed at Chaloner who began to smile back, although he stopped when he saw the Earl’s immediate scowl.
‘No, Frances,’ said Clarendon angrily. ‘He is busy with work I have set him to do.’
Frances ignored him. ‘I appreciate your kindness in dealing with Cave’s body the other day, Mr Chaloner. Or may I call you Thomas? I was fond of him — he often sang at Worcester House.’
‘He had a fine voice, ma’am,’ agreed Chaloner cautiously.
‘Very fine. I questioned Dugdale about his death. He said Cave spat insults until Elliot retaliated with his sword. And Cave cheated, too — he tried to murder Elliot’s unarmed friend.’
‘Yes,’ acknowledged Chaloner carefully, recalling the wild swing at Lester.
‘He was not himself when he came home from Tangier, and I want to know why.’ Frances raised her chin and regarded her husband defiantly. ‘Indeed, his death sounds almost like suicide to me. Will you ask a few questions on my behalf, Thomas, and discover what really happened?’
The Earl shook of his head vehemently behind her back.
‘The dispute was about who should take the wall, ma’am,’ explained Chaloner gently. ‘Insults were traded, and both parties lost their tempers. That is all.’
He did not mention the curious and suspicious connections he had uncovered since, or the fact that Williamson believed there had been something odd about the altercation.
‘No,’ said Frances. ‘The whole affair is peculiar, and I want the truth. I know you are busy, but you can spare me a few hours. Will you do it?’
Short of an outright refusal, Chaloner had no choice. He nodded reluctantly.
Chapter 5
Recalling that Mrs Reyner had mentioned Fitzgerald’s liking for the brothel on Hercules’ Pillars Alley, Chaloner decided to visit it that evening. Unfortunately, it was still too early, so he started to walk towards Tothill Street, thinking it was a good opportunity to spend an hour or two working on the cipher. He was just passing the Westminster Gatehouse when he saw Lester.
Chaloner had not paid him much attention during the spat between Cave and Elliot, but he studied him now as their paths converged. Lester was a burly fellow, with a ruddy face and the slightly rolling gait of a sailor. His clothes were fine but practical, with enough lace to say he was a gentleman, but not enough to interfere with his comfort or movement.
‘Elliot died,’ Lester stated bluntly. ‘I took him to a surgeon, but the wound was too severe.’
‘I am sorry,’ said Chaloner. ‘You were friends?’
Lester’s face clouded. ‘We served on several ships together, when I was master and he was my first officer. He had his faults, but there was no better man in a battle.’
‘Do you know what started the argument between him and Cave?’ asked Chaloner, supposing he may as well begin Lady Clarendon’s investigation, given that a witness was before him.
‘Brilliana Stanley,’ replied Lester bitterly. ‘She was Cave’s mistress before he went to Tangier, and Elliot took her on while Cave was away. I told Elliot no good would come of such a dalliance, but he would not listen. And then Cave returned …’
Chaloner supposed that jealousy might have led to a quarrel. He frowned as he recalled where he had heard the unusual name before. ‘Colonel Harley has a sister called Brilliana.’
Lester nodded. ‘Harley is a malevolent brute, and it would not surprise me to learn that he told Cave his sister’s affections had gone to another man.’
‘I had better visit her,’ said Chaloner, more to himself than Lester.
Lester raised his eyebrows. ‘Why? Are you thinking of taking up where Elliot and Cave left off? I would not recommend it. She might be pretty, but she is as unsavoury as her brother.’
‘I am married,’ said Chaloner shortly.
‘So was Elliot,’ Lester shot back.
Chaloner did not say that he knew this already, although it occurred to him that Elliot might have dallied with Brilliana because Ruth was feeble-minded.
‘Brilliana lives near the Feathers tavern in Piccadilly,’ Lester went on. ‘And it is rumoured that she engages in some very dubious business.’
Chaloner frowned. ‘Elliot was one of Williamson’s spies. I do not suppose he was ordered to inveigle himself into Brilliana’s affections in order to monitor this “dubious business”, was he?’