Thurloe pursed his lips. ‘I beg to differ — he sacrificed you and me to Fitzgerald without a second thought. I was wrong about him, just as I was wrong about Lester, although Ann mourns his loss, of course. Still, at least I did not underestimate Fitzgerald, so I have not lost my touch completely.’
‘Far from it.’ Chaloner stood. ‘I had better go. The Earl asked me to meet him in Clarendon House this evening, and he will be angry if I am late.’
‘I have no desire to set foot in that place ever again,’ declared Thurloe with a shudder. ‘I shall always associate it with evil dealings.’
So would Chaloner, but he did not have the luxury of declining the Earl’s summons.
Clarendon House stood silent and imposing in its sea of mud and winter-brown trees. The site was deserted because the Earl had dismissed all the workmen, being uncertain which ones were involved with Oliver, and unwilling to take chances. More had yet to be recruited, although it would not be long before the place rang with the sounds of industry again.
As Chaloner walked up the drive, he regarded it with dislike, and began to formulate plans to burn it down. No one would miss it, except the Earl — even Hyde would be grateful to lose this monumental reminder of his gullibility. It took considerable willpower to open the door and step inside, and he could not repress a shudder as he passed the stairs that led to the basement.
He found the Earl standing in his Great Parlour, which was still scarred from Brinkes’s efforts to escape. He looked short and insignificant in its lofty grandeur, more like an interloper than its owner.
‘Hah!’ he exclaimed as Chaloner approached. ‘There is an unforeseen advantage to this place.’
‘What is that, sir?’
The Earl grinned. ‘You cannot mask the sound of your footsteps in this echoing chamber, so you will never be able to creep up on me. I am safe from frights at last.’
Chaloner had made no effort to approach quietly, but was sure it could be managed, especially in the dark. The Earl’s grin faded as he looked around him.
‘It was a pitiful business,’ he said softly.
Chaloner nodded, and stared at the floor. Lester had died saving people who continued to profit from the slave trade, and one of the greatest villains he had ever encountered was currently sailing down the Thames on his way to a new and prosperous life. Even Kitty, whose role in the affair was far from certain, was happily married to the man she had taken as her lover while her husband still lived.
‘I am sorry so many people died,’ he said quietly.
The Earl stared at him. ‘Actually, I was thinking about my stolen bricks. The other business was far from pitiful, because you presented me with four gold bars that the King’s treasurers had neglected to find.’
‘Oh,’ said Chaloner. ‘I had forgotten about those.’
‘You are a curious fellow! Anyone else in my household would have kept one for himself, but you gave me the lot.’
‘I did not want anything to do with them.’
‘Luckily for me.’ The Earl cleared his throat. ‘Henry has shown me every one of these sly secret passages, but they are all in the wrong places.’
Chaloner frowned. ‘I do not understand.’
The Earl waved a sheaf of papers at him. ‘They are in the main reception rooms, but these are large chambers, and experiments have shown that if you stand in the middle and mutter seditious remarks, a spy cannot hear you.’
Chaloner took the plans and studied them. ‘There are no devices in the bedrooms — other than yours — either. That is where most confidences will be whispered. You are right: I doubt they will serve you very well. Hyde … whoever designed them did not know what he was doing.’
‘Speaking of my son, Williamson came to see me yesterday. He had information that indicates Henry lied — that it was one of my enemies who arranged to have these spyholes installed, not him. I asked Henry about it, but he says Williamson is mistaken. What do you think?’
‘That you should never invite Secretary Leighton here for dinner.’
The Earl stared at him. ‘These spyholes were Leighton’s idea?’
‘Yes — because he dislikes your opposition to the Adventurers, although when I confronted him, he claimed he never intended the matter to end in the attempted murder of your son.’
‘Did you believe him?’ asked the Earl, round-eyed.
‘No. Had his plan worked, he would have wanted the devices kept secret — but Hyde knew about them, so of course he would have killed him to ensure his silence.’
‘I shall issue a warrant for his arrest,’ said Clarendon. ‘And see what he has to say for himself once he is in the Tower. You can lay hold of him tomorrow.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The Earl sighed softly. ‘So Henry did lie to me. I thought as much. He is not a brave boy and I was sceptical of him tackling gun-wielding villains. But we shall say no more about it. His mother thinks him a hero, and I would rather not distress her with the truth.’
‘Very well, sir.’
‘But the affair will not be entirely forgotten, either. I shall send him to Sweden on a diplomatic mission soon. You will accompany him.’
‘Are you punishing him or me?’ asked Chaloner, appalled by the notion of spending what might be weeks in the company of such a man.
‘Do not look so gloomy, lad,’ said the Earl, rather more kindly than was his wont. ‘I have some news you might find cheering. From Williamson.’
Chaloner doubted it, but listened politely.
‘It involves a fellow called Lester. Apparently, he managed to jump overboard before the flames caught Jane’s gunpowder. A Queenhithe family nursed him until he regained his wits, and he is now well on the road to recovery.’
Chaloner stared at him. ‘Lester is alive?’
The Earl smiled. ‘Williamson said you would welcome the news. He is being tended by his sister in the Crown tavern, and says he would like to play his flute to your viol, if you have time.’
Chaloner felt his spirits lift at last. ‘May I …’
‘Go,’ said the Earl, waving a chubby hand.
Tangier, April 1665
George breathed in deeply, relishing the scent of sun-baked earth, the stew that was cooking, and the familiar, dusty odour of the cows he had purchased with the money Chaloner had given him. He stared up at the vast night sky, millions of stars flickering like diamonds suspended in nothingness.
He was content for the first time since Fitzgerald had enticed him to sea with promises of easy wealth and a life of adventure, and knew he had made the right decision to return home. He had not liked London’s filthy, crowded streets, and nor had he enjoyed life as a servant. Moreover, he had certainly not appreciated being hired because it was fashionable to employ black retainers.
He remembered the ones he had met at White Hall — not free men like him, but slaves taken from the Gold Coast. They had been resigned to their lot, telling him it was a better fate than the plantations in Barbados, but he had railed on their behalf, silently and bitterly, deploring the vile trade in human souls.
An evening in Tothill Street flashed into his mind, when he had eavesdropped on a discussion between Chaloner and Wiseman. Chaloner had said little, but the surgeon had made it clear who had been responsible for the infamous attack on Henrietta Maria. George had decided then that he would repay the good deed one day, although he had not been sure how — devoted servitude was certainly not on the cards. He was not a deferential man.
Then news had come of Fitzgerald’s promotion, and Chaloner had taken him to watch the pirate strut about on Queenhithe. Seeing him had angered George on two counts: because of the callous way Fitzgerald had abandoned him in a foreign city after ten years of loyal service; and because he knew Fitzgerald would dabble in the slave trade again when he reached Africa. He had vowed not to let that happen.