Edward Marston - The Repentant Rake

Kemp's ire slowly drained away and he flopped down on the edge of the bed. 'What am I to do Henry?'

'Take heart, my friend. All is not yet lost.'

'It is if I have to pay out a thousand guineas time and time again.'

'Christopher did say that this would happen,' warned Henry.

Kemp shook with rage. 'Who is the callous devil behind it all?'

'Help us to find out, Marcus.'

'How do I do that?'

'Keep to your side of the bargain,' said Henry softly.

'What bargain?' asked Kemp, looking at him.

'The one you struck with my brother,' Henry reminded him. 'If, for whatever reason, you received another blackmail demand, you agreed to show Christopher all the correspondence you have received.'

'I feel as if I want to stuff it down his throat!'

'What would that achieve? Christopher is on our side.'

'Is he?' wondered Kemp.

'Yes,' said Henry reasonably. 'This is not his fight. He need never have got involved. He could have let the pair of us stew in our own juice. But did he? No, Christopher has done everything in his power to help. But for my brother,' he admitted sadly, 'I'd have been driven insane by this whole business.'

Kemp's fury had burned itself out. Instead of hurling wild accusations, he was a crumpled figure with barely enough strength to sit upright. He widened his eyes.

'I am done for, Henry,' he murmured. 'I might just as well be dead.'

It was a paradox. In trying to find out more about her sister-in- law, Susan Cheever was instead learning a great deal about herself. She had liked Christopher Redmayne from the start but it had taken Lucy's gentle teasing to make her realise how deep her affection for him had become. Susan was faced with a dilemma. Wanting to see him again, she could not imagine how it could be arranged. Her stay in London was not indefinite. Once Lucy had recovered enough to make decisions about her future, Susan would have to return home. It would be possible for her to visit her sister for a while but Christopher would have no call to travel to Richmond so her chances of meeting him there were slim. To call on him unannounced would be improper yet she was sorely tempted to do that. She tried to manufacture an excuse. Everything depended on Lucy. If Susan could extract some valuable information from her sister-in-law, she would have a legitimate reason to visit Fetter Lane yet again and she was desperate to help in the search for her brother's killer. When breakfast was over, she began to probe.

'How did you sleep, Lucy?' she asked solicitously.

'Fitfully.'

'You need proper rest.'

'I have too much on my mind.'

'Try to catch up on your sleep during the day.'

'If only I could,' sighed Lucy. 'But I cannot sleep properly in that bed. I keep waking up in the hope that I will find Gabriel lying beside me.'

Susan gave her a smile of sympathy. Lucy was pale and tense. She looked smaller and more defenceless than ever. The cumulative effect of her bereavement was telling on her more obviously. She had only eaten a frugal breakfast.

'What will you do?' asked Susan gently. 'Are you going to stay on here alone?'

'No,' said Lucy firmly. 'I could never do that. The house has too many bad memories for me now. It holds some wonderful memories as well, of course, and they have helped me through this dreadful time, but I could never go on living so close to the place where Gabriel was…' Her voice tailed off. 'You understand.'

'Yes,' said Susan. 'Where will you go?'

'I am not sure yet.'

'Back to your mother?'

'Probably. It's my duty to do that. Mother is failing badly and she needs me.'

'Perhaps you need her as well,' suggested Susan. 'When we travelled back from Northampton, I had no idea that your mother lived near St Albans. It could not have been too far out of our way. I remembered how restless you were on the second day of our journey. You kept glancing through the window of the coach. Were you thinking about your mother?'

'Yes,' admitted Lucy. 'I felt guilty that we were passing within a few miles of the house. Mother would have been delighted to see me but, in the circumstances, it was quite impossible.'

'Why?'

'She would have noticed my sadness and asked what caused it.'

'Did she not notice your joy when you last visited her?'

'She would have put that down to something else.'

'What else?'

Lucy shook her head. 'I need time, Susan. I am still dazed by it all. I need time to recover from this blow. I will not make any decisions until I can think properly again. When that happens, I expect I will return to St Albans.'

'What will you tell your mother?'

'That I have come back to nurse her.'

'Will you tell her why?'

'No.'

'Surely, she deserves to know that you were married? You cannot keep it from her for ever. Until she learns the truth, she will not be able to help you.'

'It is Mother who is in need of help.'

'Is she not well enough to cope with the truth?'

Lucy pursed her lips in thought. Her eyes shone with concentration. Susan felt that she was on the verge of learning something important but she waited in vain. At the very moment when Lucy was about to speak, the doorbell rang. The noise made her start. She was annoyed at the interruption; she felt robbed. It would not be easy to bring Lucy to that same point again. The maidservant answered the door and voices were heard in the hall. Susan paid no attention until Anna came into the room.

'You have a visitor, Miss Cheever,' she said. 'His name is Mr Vout.'

Susan was puzzled. 'Vout? I know nobody of that name.'

'He said that he came from Mr Redmayne.'

Susan was on her feet immediately, brushing past Anna to go into the hall. Hat in hand, an old man was waiting deferentially. Susan recognised him at once. She saw the look of concern on his face and became alarmed.

'What is the matter, Jacob?'

Jonathan Bale listened with a mixture of interest and dismay as Christopher Redmayne told him about the events of the previous night. Eager to hear every detail, the constable was upset to see his friend in such a state. The lacerations on Christopher's face were vivid and a bruise discoloured his cheekbone. Through the open neck of his shirt, the bandaging on his shoulder was visible. Christopher's knuckles bore testimony to the ferocity of the fight. One hand was bruised while the other had lost some skin from the backs of the fingers. Jonathan felt guilty that he had not been there to protect him.

'Next time you go out at night, Mr Redmayne, I will come with you.'

Christopher grinned. 'To a gaming house?'

'If need be,' said Jonathan.

'I'll not be caught off guard again, Mr Bale.'

'No, sir. I will be watching your back.'

'It was my own fault,' recalled Christopher. 'My mind was on something else. I should have realised that someone was following me. The irony is that I had just acted as Henry's bodyguard. I deliver him safely to his house in Bedford Street then I'm the one who is attacked.'

'He obviously put up a fight.'

'Yes,' said Christopher modestly, 'but, luckily, he came off far worse.'

'He may try again.'

'Not for some time, Mr Bale. I managed to stab his arm.'

'It must have been the same man who killed Gabriel Cheever.'

Christopher felt his neck. 'He used the same method, I know that. He was a strong fellow. I can see how he overpowered Gabriel.' He saw Jonathan's grim expression. 'Do not look so gloomy. I am not destined for the grave just yet.'

'I hope not, Mr Redmayne. Thank you for sending for me.'

'Jacob insisted on going for you.' He glanced around. 'By the way, where is he?'

'He said that he had somewhere else to go.'

'Where? Jacob should have come back with you. Those were his orders.'

'He is probably on his way now.'