Edward Marston - The Bawdy Basket

Spotting them through the window, the steward came rushing out to greet them.

‘Your rooms will soon be ready, Sir Eliard,’ he said.

The moneylender was puzzled. ‘But you were not expecting us.’

‘Not until a short while ago.’

‘You had wind of our arrival?’

‘Yes, Sir Eliard,’ said the man. ‘The visitors told us that you had landed.’

‘Visitors?’

‘They came a short while ago. That is why we had no time to harness the horses. You arrived before I could dispatch the coachman.

‘Who are these visitors?’

‘They gave no names, Sir Eliard.’

‘Where are they now?’

‘Waiting for you inside.’

Nicholas Bracewell and Francis Quilter stood at one of the windows and watched them approach. They felt sorry for Lady Slaney when they saw the look of dismay on her face but they had no sympathy for her husband. Angered by the news that his whereabouts were known, Sir Eliard came striding towards the house with his cane in his hand. The visitors drew back from the window and returned to their seats. Above their heads were matching portraits of the owners of the house. Lady Slaney’s haughty expression was complemented by the arrogant pose of Sir Eliard. Judging by their appearance, they might have been the rulers of the island.

When he burst into the parlour, Sir Eliard had regained his imperious tone.

‘Who, in God’s name, are you, sirs?’ he demanded.

He paled as he recognised the features of Gerard Quilter in the latter’s son. When his eyes flicked to the other visitor, he guessed that it must be Nicholas Bracewell. He needed a few moments to recover his composure.

‘You are trespassing on my property,’ he said.

‘That is open to debate, Sir Eliard,’ returned Nicholas. ‘As a result of information that we placed in the hands of a lawyer, all your property has been sequestered.’

‘Nobody can touch me here.’

‘We can,’ said Quilter, standing up. ‘Do you know who I am?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Then you will realise why I am here.’

‘You and Nicholas Bracewell,’ said Sir Eliard with measured contempt. He looked at Nicholas. ‘Have you come to Jersey in flight from the law?’

Nicholas rose to his feet. ‘That was your prerogative, Sir Eliard.’

‘You are a murderer and a thief. You got into my house under false pretences and broke into my counting house by force.’

‘A key was used to open the door.’

‘However you gained access, you violated the law.’

‘So did your assassin when he tried to kill me,’ said Nicholas. ‘Do not dare to stand upon legality, Sir Eliard. We know that you corrupted Justice Froggatt at the trial.’

‘Yes,’ said Quilter with bitterness. ‘It was not enough for you to pay two of your friends to bear false witness against my father, you made that weasel of a magistrate, Adam Haygarth, bribe the judge with five hundred pounds. Justice Haygarth swore as much on the Bible when we dragged him before an honest member of his profession.’

Sir Eliard became sullen. ‘How did you know where to find me?’

‘Your wife is too free with her boasts,’ said Nicholas. ‘She told her milliner a dozen times how much she treasured this house on Jersey. I guessed that you’d be here.’

‘No other ship was due for France for days.’

‘That’s why we came in our own vessel. We arrived yesterday. Hearing that no ships had come, we bided our time at the harbour. When we saw you leaving the vessel today, we came on ahead to warn your servants.’

‘Nick sailed with Drake,’ explained Quilter proudly. ‘A voyage to Jersey was no test of seamanship for a man who has circumnavigated the globe. We hired a fishing boat, Sir Eliard. Its stink was vile but no worse than the one inside this house.’

Tired and flustered, Lady Slaney came into the room and saw the visitors. Though Nicholas was now in his more usual garb, she recognised him at once as the man who had called on her in the company of Anne Hendrik.

‘That was him, Eliard,’ she said, pointing. ‘The Dutchman of whom I spoke.’

‘He is no more a Dutchman than you or I, Rebecca,’ said her husband.

‘Who is he and what is he doing in our house?’

‘Leave this to me.’

‘I do not trust the fellow.’

‘Step outside a moment.’

He ushered her out of the room and spoke in an undertone to his steward. The man nodded then escorted Lady Slaney away. Servants were unloading the luggage from the cart. When one of them carried in the strongbox, Sir Eliard took it from him and brought it into the parlour. He set it down on the table.

‘I am sorry that your visit is so brief,’ said Nicholas. ‘Lady Slaney may stay here but you will have to come back with us to England.’

‘No less a person than the Lord Chief Justice wishes to see you,’ said Quilter. ‘He does not look kindly on those who spread corruption in the courts. You will have to bid farewell to your wife.’

‘Need it come to this?’ asked Sir Eliard with a sly smile. ‘I understand your resentment, Master Quilter, and I can see that you have your father’s resolve. He and I fell out, alas. He was like a burr that stuck to me wherever I went. I had to brush him off.’ He took out a key. ‘There is no way that I can bring your father back, but I can offer recompense for his loss.’ He unlocked the strongbox and opened the lid. ‘I can make you rich, Master Quilter, richer than you ever imagined.’

‘Keep your money!’ retorted Quilter.

‘Let me go and both of you can live in luxury hereafter.’

‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘Ten times the amount in your strongbox would not tempt us. Besides, Sir Eliard, the money is no longer yours to give. Your property is confiscated. Officers will soon arrive from England to take this house and all its contents into the possession of the Crown. Your strongbox will sail back with them.’

‘Would you take me by force?’ asked Sir Eliard.

Quilter drew his sword. ‘Gladly. Give me the excuse to do so.’

‘You are foolish men. You turned down the chance to gain from this enterprise.’

‘Your arrest is the only gain that I seek.’

‘It will not be effected by you, Master Quilter.’

Sir Eliard snapped his fingers and the steward reappeared with one of the manservants. Both were armed with muskets and looked as if they knew how to use the weapons. They moved swiftly into position to cover the visitors.

Sir Eliard smirked. ‘Be so kind as to lay down your swords, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘And your daggers, while you are at it.’

Quilter turned to Nicholas for guidance. The latter gave a nod then both put their weapons on the floor. Sir Eliard waved them back a few steps so that he could pick up one of the swords. He brandished it with a malicious gleam in his eye.

‘Your boldness is your undoing,’ he told them. ‘Had you waited, you might have sailed from England with the officers and looked to take me in irons. As it is, you came too quick and unprepared.’ He indicated the other men. ‘It is a rule of mine that I always have someone at my back. That is why I have prospered so.’

‘Your prosperity is at an end, Sir Eliard,’ said Nicholas.

‘Is it? I think not. Your warning has been timely. If others are to come in search of me, they’ll not find me on the island. Lady Slaney and I will be long gone.’ He gave a cackle. ‘We’ll stay, however, to ensure that you have a decent burial. Take them out!’

His men obeyed. With a musket prodding their backs, Nicholas and Quilter were forced out of the room and along a passageway to the rear of the house. They went out into a formal garden that was neatly divided by a series of hedges and trees. Still carrying the sword, Sir Eliard led the way until he came to a secluded bower. He turned to face the prisoners, irritated that they showed no fear. He waved the sword at Nicholas.