Edward Marston - The Parliament House

'Can you not go without me?'

'No, Lancelot.'

There was a note of finality in her voice that he did not dare to challenge. Lancelot Serle was a tall, spare, nervous individual with features that could have been accounted handsome but for the blemish on his cheek. The little birthmark was all the more visible against the whiteness of his skin, and looked, at first glance, like a blob of raspberry preserve that he had forgotten to wipe away. There was, however, no blemish on his financial situation. He was a man of substance with a palatial house set in the middle of a vast estate. His combination of wealth, social position and readiness to obey Brilliana's every whim had made him an irresistible choice as a husband.

'We do not want to be in the way, my love,' he said.

'What a nonsensical idea!' she exclaimed, rounding on him. 'We are family, Lancelot. We could never be in the way,'

'I do not recall that Susan actually solicited your help.'

'Then why else did she write to me?'

'Merely to keep you informed.'

'I know when I am being summoned, so let's have no more evasion. The chest is packed, the coach is ready and we are going to drive to London. After all,' she said, leading the way to the front door, 'it will not only be a case of offering our commiserations.' 'Oh?'

'We can satisfy our curiosity at the same time.'

'About what?'

She stamped a foot. 'Really! Do you listen to nothing I say?'

'I do little else, Brilliana.'

'Then you must surely recall that father has befriended a lady, a certain Mrs Dorothy Kitson.'

'I recall mention of her,' he said, following her out of the house, 'but I assumed that the relationship would have expired by now. With respect to my father-in-law, he's a most unlikely suitor.

The roughness of his tongue would put any woman to flight within a week.'

'He seems to have curbed that roughness. I want to know why.'

The footman was waiting by the door of the coach and she took his hand so that he could help her into the vehicle. While she settled down and adjusted the folds of her dress, her husband took the seat opposite her so that he would travel backwards. Serle wore exquisite apparel but he could not compete with her finery or with the array of jewellery that set it off. A whip cracked above them and the horses pulled the carriage in a semicircle. They were soon rolling steadily up a long drive through an arcade of poplars.

'How much do we know about Mrs Kitson?' he asked.

'Precious little.'

'Has your sister actually met the lady?'

'Not yet – but Susan has grave reservations about her.'

'Why?'

'Because she has led Father to tell so many lies.'

'Lies!' He was astonished. 'That's quite unlike him. Sir Julius is the most honest man alive. Far too honest, in my opinion, for he blurts out things that should best be left unsaid in civilised company.' Serle was rueful. 'I've suffered a great deal at the hands of your father's famous honesty.'

'Then you should not annoy him so much.'

'My very existence is a source of annoyance to him.'

'You were my choice as a husband,' she said, briskly, 'and not his. You have merits that are not visible to the naked eye and I cherish each one of them.'

He was pleased. 'Do you, Brilliana?'

'You're a man of hidden qualities, Lancelot.'

'Thank you,' he said, basking in a rare compliment from her.

She did not allow him to savour the moment for long.

'By the same token,' she resumed, 'you have shortcomings that are imperceptible at first sight but that slowly emerge on closer acquaintance. I see it as my task in life to remedy those shortcomings.'

'I study to improve myself, Brilliana.'

'Then assert yourself more. Do not be so easily cowed into silence. Whenever you meet your father-in-law, you hardly ever say a word.'

'He gives me no opportunity to do so.'

'Make an opportunity, Lancelot,' she urged. 'You bear the name of a noble knight. Display some knightly heroism. When we are in Father's company, seize the conversation with both hands.'

'That's easier said than done.'

'You'll earn his respect, if you do. And in time, I trust, you'll have enough confidence to follow in his footsteps.'

'What do you mean?'

'You must go into politics,' she decreed. 'You have money and position enough but you lack even a semblance of power. I want a husband of mine to guide the fate of the nation. If my father can become a Member of Parliament, so can you.'

'But I disagree with everything that he stands for, Brilliana.'

'Then oppose him vigorously in the House of Commons. Stand up for your principles. Proclaim them with a full voice.'

Serle lapsed into a brooding silence. Since he first became involved with the Cheever family, the one thing he had never been allowed to do was to express his opinions with any degree of freedom. His wife muffled him and his father-in-law terrified him. As an unswerving Royalist, he had learned to button his lip whenever Sir Julius sounded off about the depravity of the court and the blatant unfitness of the King to reign. The thought of crossing verbal swords with the old man in the Parliament House made him shudder inwardly.

'Coming back to your earlier remark,' he said, finding the strength to speak again, 'what's this about your father telling lies?'

'He would probably call them excuses.'

'For what?'

'Concealing the fact that he is seeing so much of Mrs Kitson,' she pointed out. 'Whenever he leaves the house, he tells Susan that he is to meet other politicians but she knows that it is simply not true. Father has arranged clandestine meetings with his new friend.'

'Is he so ashamed of the lady?'

'On the contrary, Lancelot. He is inordinately proud of her. Susan can see it in his face and hear it in his voice. Yet he pretends that nothing is amiss. I'd not stand for such subterfuge,' she said, smacking his knee for effect. 'That's why I intend to do what Susan has so far been unable to do herself.'

'And what's that, Brilliana?'

'Confront him. Tax him. Bully the truth out of him, if need be.'

'Sir Julius will not be easily bullied.'

'That's why I may need to call on you.'

Serle winced. 'Me?'

'Father will see me as an interfering daughter, but you can speak to him man to man. You can probe for information, Lancelot. You can catch him unawares.'

'I've never managed to do so before.'

'Then see this as a test of your mettle,' she said, firmly. 'Susan and I need to know what is going on and you are the person to find out. If we cannot wrest anything out of him, you must use your wiles.'

'But I have no wiles, Brilliana.'

'Exactly. When you speak to him, Father will be completely off guard. He will not suspect you for a moment. Take advantage of that, Lancelot. Beat him at his own game and use political wiles against him. Prove yourself to me,' she exhorted with sudden passion. 'Will you become the husband that I know you can be?'

He nodded willingly but his heart was a giant butterfly.

Sir Julius Cheever returned to his house in Westminster in buoyant mood. As soon as he came in through the door, Susan knew that he had dined with Dorothy Kitson. She gave him a token kiss of welcome then she pointed in the direction of the parlour.

'Christopher is waiting to see you.'

'Christopher Redmayne?' he asked.

'Yes, Father. He called this morning after you had left. I suggested that he came back later this afternoon.' She shot him a reproving look. 'Though I did not expect it to be quite this late.'

'I'd better go and speak to him.'

He opened the door of the parlour and went in. Christopher rose from his seat but was immediately waved back into it. Sir Julius lowered himself into a chair opposite him.

'I take it that you've come about yesterday's sad event,' he said.