Iain Pears - An Instance of the Fingerpost

“By all means.”

“I must ask you for a great courtesy, if you please, in return for giving you the information you require.”

“A courtesy is yours for the asking,” I said, slightly ruffled, “without the need to bargain for it.”

“Thank you. I wish you to promise never to reveal where we met.”

“Of course,” I said.

“It never happened. You may have met a young whore on the road in Kent, but that was not me. I now come from a good, but poor family in Herefordshire, and was brought to London by my lord as a distant relative of his wife’s family. Who I was, and what I was, is unknown, and must remain so.”

“It does not seem to have done you a great deal of harm.”

“No. But it would, when his protection is withdrawn.”

“You think of him so?”

“Of course. He will not be cruel, I think. He will settle an annuity on me and already I have saved a good amount of money. By the time I am too old, I will have the means to support myself. But what then? I must marry, I suppose; but I will not get a good bargain if my past is known.”

I frowned at this. “You propose to marry? Do you have a suitor?”

“Oh, plenty,” she said with a pretty laugh. “Although none has dared to come forward; that would be far too audacious. But a woman of some property, as I will be, who can offer a connection to one of the most influential men in the kingdom? I am a prize, unless someone destroys my chances through careless talk. I cannot say marriage appeals, however.”

“For most women it is a dream.”

“To hand over my hard-earned fortune to my husband? Be unable to do anything without his permission? Risk being disinherited of my own money when he dies? Oh, yes. A wonderful dream.”

“You are making fun of me,” I said gravely.

She laughed again. “I suppose. But my position in my future husband’s household will be stronger if I am Katherine Hannay, daughter of John Hannay, esquire of Hereford, than formerly Kitty the whore.”

I must have looked despondent, for it was not easy to comply. Suppose I heard that she was to marry a gentleman, even if not of my acquaintance? Was it not my duty to warn him? Could I stand by as a man put his name at risk, and lived forever under the threat of exposure?

“I do not ask your approbation, nor your patronage. Merely your silence,” she said softly.

“Well,” I said, “it seems we live in an age where whores become ladies, and ladies play the whore. Family counts for nothing, and appearance is all. I cannot say you would not make as good a wife as many a real lady. And so I give you my word, Miss Hannay of Hereford,”

I gave her a lot with those words, and she appreciated it, and it was with a heavy heart indeed that I felt obliged to go back on them in later years, when I heard that she was to marry Sir John Marshall, a gentleman of some fortune in Hampstead. I anguished greatly over what to do, and with the very greatest of reluctance concluded that my duty could not avoid the necessity of writing to the man and telling him what I knew of the woman who threatened to impose herself on his name.

That, fortunately, was all in the future; for then she was deeply grateful to me, and would not have assisted me otherwise.

“I hope my little discoveries can repay this second kindness you have given me. I doubt it very much, but I will tell you what I have found out, and later I will introduce you to Mr. George Collop, who has agreed to come and take some refreshment.”

“Who is he?”

“He is the receiver-general of the Duke of Bedford. A powerful man, as he has direction of one of the greatest fortunes in the land.”

“I hope he is honest, then.”

“He is. And loyal to a fault. And able as well. Which is why he is paid near a hundred pounds a year in hand, with all his costs and living on top of that.”

I was impressed. My father had always done his own administration, and in any case could not have afforded to pay anything like that to a single servant.

“For all that, there are many people who would willingly pay him double, for he has made the duke even richer than he once was. It is said that His Grace will scarcely buy a new pair of hose without asking Mr. Collop’s opinion first.”

“What is his connection with Sir Samuel Morland?”

“Fens,” she said. “He is in charge of the duke’s involvement in draining the fenland. He knows more about it than anyone, and so knows a great deal about Sir Samuel.”

“I see. What else have you discovered for me?”

“Not so very much. This Morland has acquired some pensions and sinecures since His Majesty returned, but boasted of many more which were not given him. It seems he considered that he did such a service that no reward would be great enough. However, my lord does not think much of this assessment.”

“You must be clearer with me, Kitty,” I said. “This is, or may be, a legal matter. I cannot leave anything bound up in the obscurity of dark words.”

“I had this from my lord this afternoon,” she said. “You know, I am sure, that he was one of the king’s most loyal followers, and endured years in penury and exile for his sake. He does not look favorably on those who switched their allegiance at the last moment. He says that he knows for sure that Morland encountered Lord Mordaunt when both were in Savoy. He was involved in the arrest of Mordaunt and other conspirators and took part in the trial at which Mordaunt was acquitted. My lord also mentioned to me that of Morland’s rewards and pensions, nearly all have been won at the specific request of Lord Mordaunt. A strange courtesy to extend to a man who supposedly tried to hang you. More, indeed, something you would do for a man to whom you were connected by long friendship. So my lord said.”

I looked at her long and hard as she said this, and she nodded seriously at me. “You must draw your own conclusions,” she said. “I questioned my lord, but he would give no direct answer, saying merely that what is obvious is usually also true.”

“What did he mean?”

“He said he could not help more plainly, for it would be seen as an attack on Clarendon if he leveled accusations against Mordaunt—the two are so closely attached criticism on one is an assault on the other. But he wishes you well, and begs you take his advice. If you look hard enough, you will find proof of what he says. Jack, whatever is the matter?”

The relief I felt at those words was so great that I had to lean forward in my chair and hug myself, so near did I feel to exploding from sheerest joy. At last, I had someone who would credit what I always knew to be the truth, and at last I had the pointer I needed. Odd it was indeed to have it from such a source; that the solution, or the near solution, to my troubles should fall from the mouth of a harlot. But thus it transpired, for the angels of the Lord can take as many strange forms as the servants of the devil.

I now knew who had trumped up accusations against my father; I knew who the traitor really was, and now I needed to discover why my father was chosen out of all the possible candidates for such treatment. I was close to the point of being able to confront Thurloe with his own turpitude, and justify his death. I fell to my knee and kissed her hand, again and again and again, until she burst out laughing and pulled it away.

“Come now,” she said merrily, “what have I said that produces such adulation?”

“You have ended years of anguish, and restored the name of my family. With luck you will also have restored my fortune and prospects as well,” I said. “If anything deserves adulation, it is surely that.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said. “Although I cannot consider I have done anything of such merit. All I have done is repeat my lord’s words to you.”