The Repentant Rake

    'We've been doing nothing else for the past few days.'

    'It must be very lowering for you.'

    'Not really, Mr Redmayne. It's been something of a revelation.'

    'In what way?'

    Susan did not reply. She looked deep into his eyes. He met her gaze, his affection for her shining through, but it sparked off no response. She was looking at him with a curiosity that was tempered with faint disappointment. Christopher felt uncomfortable.

    'Is something wrong, Miss Cheever?' he asked.

    She appraised him carefully. 'May I ask you a question, please?'

    'As many as you wish.'

    'Do you know a Henry Redmayne?'

    'I should do. He's my brother.'

    'And was he one of Gabriel's friends?'

    'For a time.'

    'Why did you not mention it before, Mr Redmayne?'

    Christopher shrugged. 'It did not come up in conversation.'

    'Well, it should have,' she said with a note of reproof. 'I had a right to know. It would have saved me some embarrassment when Lucy mentioned his name.'

    'Lucy?'

    'Yes.'

    'But she has never met Henry.'

    'It seems that your brother's name appears in Gabriel's diary?'

    'So I hear.'

    'Yet you did not have the courtesy to pass on the information to me?'

    'Miss Cheever-'

    'Let me finish,' she went on, anger beginning to show. 'How can you expect me to confide in you when you hold back something as important as this from me? You put me in a very awkward position. Imagine how foolish I felt when Lucy recalled the name of Henry Redmayne and wondered if the two of you were related. Not only that,' she emphasised. 'Your brother's name appears in the very diary that led to Gabriel's murder so he is involved here. You've been deceiving me, Mr Redmayne.'

    'Not intentionally.'

    'I feel hurt.'

    Christopher was contrite. 'I would never willingly hurt you.'

    'Then why have you been hiding your brother?'

    'For two very good reasons,' he explained. 'The first concerns Sir Julius.'

    'Father?'

    'He has many virtues but tolerance is not one of them. And what my brother requires most of all from others, I fear, is a tolerant attitude. Henry leads the kind of existence that Gabriel managed to escape.' He sat forward. 'Can you understand what I am saying, Miss Cheever?'

    'I think so. You are telling me how keen you were to design the new house.'

    'Would Sir Julius be equally keen to retain me if he knew that I had a brother like Henry? He would assume that I, too, was the kind of rakehell that he so despises.'

    'Father would not make that mistake. He's a good judge of character.'

    'I wanted to be judged for my work and not in terms of my brother.'

    'That is still not reason enough to lie to me.'

    'I did not lie,' he stressed. 'I simply held back a portion of the truth.'

    'You said that there were two reasons.'

    'Yes,' said Christopher sadly. 'The second concerns you.'

    'Me?'

    'In my own blundering way, I sought to protect you.'

    'From what?'

    'The full horror. Gabriel's murder has been a shattering blow for you, Miss Cheever. I did not want to distress you any further by telling you about its ugly consequences. If you feel that I hid things from you unfairly,' he said, leaning even closer to her, 'then I apologise unreservedly. I promise to tell you all that you wish to hear.'

    'Why should I be distressed by it?'

    'The details are rather sordid.'

    'Nevertheless, I will hear it,' she said. 'Do not think to spare me.'

    Christopher took a deep breath. 'If you insist.'

    He gave her a clear and comprehensive account of events from the very start, hiding nothing from her and describing in detail the failure of his plan to catch the blackmailer in Covent Garden. Susan Cheever listened to it all without a tremor. The name that caught her attention was that of a woman.

    'Miss Celia Hemmings?'

    'Yes,' he said. 'Did Gabriel ever mention her in his letters?'

    'No, Mr Redmayne.'

    'He obviously made a deep impression on her. She was at the funeral.'

    'Was she?' asked Susan with mingled surprise and disapproval.

    'She left discreetly soon afterwards.'

    'I'm glad to hear it.'

    'Do not be too harsh on her. She was a good friend to Gabriel.'

    'That may be so, Mr Redmayne, but she had no place at a family funeral. Think what pain it would have caused Lucy if she had known of the woman's presence and of her relationship to Gabriel. It was wrong of Miss Hemmings to come.' Susan cocked her head slightly and stared at him. 'Are you ashamed of your brother?'

    'Ashamed? No, Miss Cheever.'

    'Why not?'

    'With all his faults, I love Henry.'

    'I loved Gabriel - with all his faults.'

    'It's not a fair comparison.'

    'Why not?'

    'Your brother repented,' he argued. 'He turned his back on his days as a rake and tried to lead an honest, sober, blameless life as a married man. That takes courage. Henry's case is very different,' he conceded. 'In spite of all that has happened, he has no thought of repentance and he would no more contemplate marriage than emigration to some uninhabited wilderness in America.'

    'Gabriel and your brother were still two of a kind.'

    'Up to a point.'

    'And so are we, Mr Redmayne.'

    'We?'

    'Yes,' she said resignedly. 'Each of us found ourselves with wayward brothers. There's no escaping that fact. Neither of them would aspire to canonisation.'

    Christopher laughed. 'Henry would feel insulted if it were offered to him.'

    'Our brothers drew us into this.'

    'Granted.'

    'But for them, we would not be sitting here now. In view of that, it is surprising that you chose not to confide in me.'

    'Nothing will be hidden from you in future, I swear it.'

    'I'll keep you to that,' she warned. 'Gabriel Cheever and Henry Redmayne are both weak men who went astray. We supported them. That gives us a real bond.'

    Christopher felt the full strength of that bond and gave a quiet smile.

    Sir Marcus Kemp was in his element. Having paid the blackmail demand, he felt that his life could begin again in earnest. He repaired to his favourite gaming house that evening and had a run of good fortune at the card table. He decided that it was an omen. His troubles were completely over. Henry Redmayne watched him from a distance, envying the confidence that his friend exuded and wishing that he had the same air of freedom. Gone was the hunted expression and the feverish manner. Kemp was determined to make up for lost time. Arthur Lunn was also happy. Henry had played a few games of ombre but he had still not mastered the intricacies of the new fad and lost each time. Lunn, by contrast, was slowly amassing a sizeable amount of money from his opponents at the table. Henry wondered if he would be able to drag his friend away.

    When Kemp's luck finally changed, he had the sense to quit the game. Seeing Henry in the far corner, he strode across to him with a benign smile on his face.

    'Welcome back, Henry!' he said expansively

    'I might say the same to-,you, Marcus.'

    'All's well that ends well!'

    'Unfortunately, it has not ended in my case.'

    'Then do as I did,' urged Kemp. 'Grit your teeth and pay up. You'll not regret it. Yes,' he added genially, 'and employ that brother of yours to hand the money over. What he is like as an architect I do not know, but Christopher is a sterling fellow.'