The Repentant Rake

    Sir Julius Cheever had been disappointed that his daughter-in-law wanted to return so soon to London. It cut short the time in which they could develop their acquaintance. He had been even less pleased when Susan announced that she wished to travel back with Lucy, and the old man needed a great deal of persuasion before he consented. Sir Julius himself felt that his place was in the family home, mourning his son in the parish where he was born and brought up. The thought of subjecting himself again to the hospitality of his elder daughter and her husband deprived him of even the slightest urge to travel back to the city. Accordingly, the two young women departed without him, joining a large group of travellers for safety.

    The jolting of the coach and the presence of Anna, the maidservant, made any intimate conversation impossible but Susan and Lucy did manage to spend some time together during the two overnight stops that the party made at roadside inns. Over supper on the second of those nights, Susan Cheever felt that she was at last beginning to win her sister-in-law's confidence.

    'I cannot thank you enough for this,' said Lucy. 'It would have been so dismal to go back to that empty house on my own.'

    'You have Anna.'

    'It is not the same, Susan. I need someone to whom I can talk about Gabriel.'

    'You can do that as much as you wish.'

    'Coming from his wife this may sound strange, but I feel as if I never really knew him properly. All the time we were in Northamptonshire, I kept learning things about him that he never even mentioned.'

    'Such as?'

    'Angling,' said Lucy. 'It turns out that he had a passion for angling. Sir Julius used to take him fishing when he was a little boy.'

    Susan nodded. 'Yes,' she said. 'And they always caught something for the table. I remember how upset Father was when Gabriel became so skilled with a line that he managed to catch more fish than him.'

    'Why did Gabriel never talk about angling to me?'

    'It belonged to the past that he chose to forget.'

    'Yet it was something he enjoyed, Susan.'

    'Gabriel enjoyed most things. That's what I envied about him. His capacity for sheer enjoyment was remarkable. It's something that I never had.' She pulled a face. 'Nor did Brilliana.'

    'She never seems to enjoy anything.'

    'That's not entirely true.'

    Lucy lowered her voice. 'Why did your sister marry Mr Serle?'

    'Because he asked her.'

    'But she is so critical of him.'

    'Brilliana is critical of all men,' explained Susan, 'which is why so many of them were terrified of getting too close to her. She had suitors from all over the Midlands but they always turned tail in the end. Lancelot Serle did not.'

    'Does he still love her?'

    'Very much. When Brilliana lets him.'

    'Gabriel told me very little about her except that she had rejected him.'

    'She never had much time for him, I'm afraid.' Susan looked at her companion over the dancing flames of the candle. They were seated at a table in a quiet corner. The atmosphere was conducive to an exchange of intimacies. 'Talking to you makes me feel that I never knew him all that well either.'

    'How could you when you were apart for so long?'

    'Whole areas of his life were a closed book to me.'

    Lucy gave a half-smile. 'Perhaps that is just as well.'

    'Did he tell you everything about his past?'

    'Everything that I wished to know.'

    'And was there anything that you did not, Lucy?'

    'Oh, yes. I thought it best to draw a veil of decency over much of it.'

    'You were very wise,' agreed Susan, wondering if it was the right moment to probe a little more deeply. 'Did he tell you that he sent me one of his poems?'

    'Yes, he did.'

    'It was very sad but so beautiful. I had no idea he had such talent.'

    'Gabriel was a wonderful writer.'

    'Did you read everything that he wrote?'

    'Only what he chose to show me.' Lucy's face lit up. 'Several of the poems were written especially for me. Gabriel always said that they were his best work.'

    'He was truly inspired.'

    'I never read any of his plays. There was no point, Susan. I've never been to the theatre and have no idea what makes a good play. Besides,' she said with a little shrug, 'I think that Gabriel felt I might not approve.'

    'What about his diary?' She saw Lucy's jaw tighten. 'You did know that he kept a diary?'

    'Of course.'

    'Were you allowed to look at it?'

    'Gabriel never tried to stop me from doing anything.'

    'So you did read the diary?'

    'Bits of it,' admitted Lucy. 'It was like reading about a complete stranger.'

    'Were you shocked?'

    'To some degree. But I was also very amused.'

    'Amused?' echoed Susan in surprise.

    'Gabriel had such a wicked sense of fun. Some of the entries in his diary were so comical that I burst out laughing.' A hunted look came into her eye. 'Even that pleasure has been taken from me now. Someone stole the diary from the house.'

    'Did they take anything else?'

    'No, Susan. They only came for one thing.'

    'Would you have read the diary in full if it was still in your possession?'

    'Who knows?' said Lucy evasively, resisting the gentle interrogation. 'But let us talk about you, Susan. I am grateful for your company, but you must not feel tied to my apron strings while you are in London. Your sister will doubtless want to see you and there must be other friends you can visit in the city.'

    'One perhaps,' said Susan wistfully.

    'Mr Christopher Redmayne?' She smiled as her companion blinked. 'I may be in mourning, Susan, but that does not mean I am deaf. Since we left Northamptonshire, that gentleman's name has been on your tongue a dozen times. I think that you are fond of Mr Redmayne.'

    'He is a personable young man.'

    'He is much more than that to you, I suspect.'

    'We are barely acquainted,' denied Susan without conviction.

    'No matter,' said the other, touching her arm. 'It is none of my business. I just thought that you might be interested in an odd coincidence.'

    'Coincidence?'

    'Yes, it came back into my mind when you talked about Gabriel's diary just now. I only read a small portion of it but I do recall one of the names I saw.'

    'What was it?'

    'Henry Redmayne.'

    Susan was startled. 'Redmayne?'

    'He was part of Gabriel's circle.'

    'I see.'

    'He may, of course, be no relation at all of our Mr Redmayne,' said Lucy thoughtfully, 'but it is not all that common a name so there is a possibility. Has he mentioned anyone called Henry to you?'

    'No,' murmured Susan, frowning with dismay.

    Lucy was alarmed. 'Have I said something to offend you?'

    'Not at all.'

    'I would hate to do that.'

    Susan forced a smile. 'You have done nothing of the sort, Lucy.'

    'Are you sure?'

    'Quite sure.'

    But for a reason that she did not understand, Susan was suddenly disconcerted.

    Covent Garden was high on Christopher Redmayne's list of favourite architectural sights in the capital. A great admirer of the work of Inigo Jones, he had studied the area with great interest, noting how the houses in the piazza had front doors that opened on to vaulted arcades in the manner of Sebastiano Selio. Not everyone had approved of the importation of Italian styles to a prime site in the capital and Jones had sustained heavy criticism from some quarters, but Christopher had nothing but praise for Covent Garden. The church of St Paul's dominated one side of the square and looked out on the high terraced houses that extended along the other three sides. The properties had an imposing facade, generous proportions, a pleasant garden and stabling at the rear. When they were first built they attracted rich tenants, but the area was slightly less fashionable now and had yielded the palm to the new developments to the west such as St James's Square. The presence of the market brought more visitors to Covent Garden but deterred potential tenants who did not like the crowds that flocked round the stalls in the square.