Andrew Swanston - The King's Return

‘Are you both well?’ asked Thomas. ‘You look exhausted.’

‘Not much sleep. Things to think about,’ replied Charles, barely looking up from his plate. Mary smiled sweetly and said nothing. Thomas thought it best not to ask about their ‘things’ and to leave them in peace to think about them.

‘As I came here with nothing more than I was standing up or, rather, lying down in, it won’t take me long to prepare,’ Madeleine told Thomas. ‘I shall be ready in an hour.’

‘And I shall be ready to escort you.’

Charles and Mary had recovered sufficiently to wave the carriage off. ‘Do take care, Madeleine,’ advised Mary. ‘Thomas is terribly prone to unfortunate accidents.’

‘Do not concern yourselves. I shall keep him well guarded.’

‘Wonderful people,’ said Madeleine in the carriage. ‘You must tell me how you came to meet them and about Barbados.’

‘Not all of it is fit for the ears of a lady, my dear.’

‘I shall want to hear those bits first.’

At Madeleine’s house, the door was opened by a beaming Agnes. ‘At last, Miss Stewart,’ she declared. ‘I had fallen to thinking you’d never come back. Are you recovered?’

‘Quite recovered, Agnes, thank you.’

‘Good day, Mr Hill. Mottershead tells me you and he have had a fine old time together.’

‘Does he now?’ Josiah’s instructions had not included gossiping with Agnes. What else had the little man been up to? ‘Has Josiah been doing his job? I asked him to make sure you and the house were safe.’

‘Oh yes, sir. Mottershead’s been most attentive. Called almost every day.’

Thomas glanced at Madeleine, who raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s good, Agnes, and how are you?’

‘Never better, madam. And Mottershead’s done a few little jobs around the house. He’s clever with his hands. You’ll see the difference.’

When they went in, they did see the difference. Newly painted walls, a broken chair mended, a cracked window replaced, the floor polished. Josiah had done more than a few little jobs.

‘I do hope you looked after him, Agnes. Did you feed him well?’

‘Oh yes. I told him he had to keep his strength up and gave him a good dinner whenever he was here.’

‘Excellent. Now Mr Hill and I have much to discuss. We will be in my bedroom.’

‘Very good, madam. Will Mr Hill be staying for dinner?’

‘He will.’

In the bedroom, Madeleine wasted no time. She simply undressed and got into bed. Thomas followed suit. ‘Now, Thomas,’ she whispered, ‘it is so long since we last did this that I can barely remember what it was like. Would you care to refresh my memory?’

‘Alas, my dear, I too have quite forgotten. We shall have to refresh each other’s memories.’ He kissed her. ‘Does that help?’

‘A little. Try again.’

It took several tries before Madeleine fully recovered her memory, but when she did, Thomas found it to be excellent in every particular. Being confined to her bed for so long had somehow increased her vigour, as if she had been storing up her strength for this occasion. After two hours of strenuous work, Thomas pleaded hunger and went in search of food.

He found Agnes in the kitchen polishing a pair of boots. ‘Mottershead does like clean boots,’ she said.

‘He’s a fortunate fellow to have you to clean them for him, Agnes. Our discussions are taking longer than expected and we need refreshment. Can you help?’

‘Course I can, sir. You go back to your discussions and I’ll bring you a plate of chicken and a bottle.’

Hours later, having sampled Agnes’s fare and taken yet more exercise, they fell asleep as day became night and did not stir until the morning.

Thomas was woken by Agnes calling through the door, ‘Mottershead is here, Mr Hill, and asks to see you at once. Mrs Carrington told him you were here.’

‘Now what?’ grumbled Thomas, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ‘Tell Mottershead I am not yet dressed and he must wait ten minutes.’

Mottershead, stick in one hand and hat in the other, his boots newly polished, was waiting in Madeleine’s sitting room. ‘My apologies, Mr ’Ill, sir, but I thought I’d better come at once.’

‘So I see, Josiah. And what is so urgent that it brings you here at this hour?’

‘It’s Molly, sir, Stoner’s ’ore, if you recall.’

‘I do recall, Josiah, and what of her?’

‘She came to my ’ouse last night. Said she’d seen Lemuel Squire, or thought she ’ad. Said she’d seen ’is arse, if you’ll pardon me, sir. Said she’d know it anywhere.’

‘And where did Molly think she saw this arse?’

‘Drury Lane, sir. Disappearing into an alley. She followed it, but it must ’ave gone into an ’ouse and she lost it.’

‘Hardly a clear sighting, Josiah. Do you think she’s telling the truth?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Although the woman was less than pleased to see you when last you met, as I recall.’

Josiah laughed. ‘Oh no, sir. Molly loves me like a brother. I saved ’er from Newgate once. It’s just ’er way of showing it.’

‘So what do you propose that we do, Josiah? I am not feeling at my strongest this morning.’

‘I’m sorry to ’ear that, sir, because I was ’oping you’d want to come with me.’

‘To Drury Lane, Josiah? Last time you did your best to dissuade me from going there.’

‘Yes, sir. But this is different. If we tell Mr Williamson, ’e’ll send in the trained bands and it’s no place for them. As soon as they’re within ’alf a mile of the lane, word’ll go out and every thief and murderer ’iding there’ll disappear. There’s places around the lane that can ’ide a man for ever if ’e wants.’

‘So what makes you think you can find Squire if he’s there?’

‘I know the place as well as anyone, sir, and there’s a good few who owes me a favour.’

‘Like Molly?’

‘That’s it, sir. Like Molly.’

‘Do you really need me, Josiah? Couldn’t you find someone else?’

‘Daresay I could, sir. Just thought you’d like to be there when we catch ’im, after all the trouble ’e’s caused you.’

‘Josiah, I am forty-seven years old, I do not care for violence and I came to London simply to see my old friends Charles and Mary Carrington and to attend the coronation. Yet I have been dragged into fraud, espionage, treachery, abduction and murder. Furthermore, Miss Stewart is asleep and would not be pleased to awake and find me gone. I really do not want to accompany you to one of the nastiest parts of the city in the hope of finding Lemuel Squire.’

For a moment Thomas thought Josiah was going to cry. ‘That is most disappointing, sir. I ’ad thought that you would want to complete the job before going ’ome. I ’ad you down as a man who likes to finish what ’e’s started, and isn’t afraid of going nowhere. Seems I was wrong.’

Thomas eyed the little man. Not just a man of action. Just like his master, quite up to a little subtle persuasion and not easy to refuse. Then a thought struck him. A little distasteful but in the circumstances… ‘Josiah, I might be persuaded to accompany you in return for a small favour.’

Josiah looked alarmed. In his line of work, he must be asked for some strange favours. ‘And what favour would that be, sir?’

Thomas took a deep breath and told him about his niece Lucy Taylor and Master Arthur Phillips who worked in the Navy Office. ‘My niece appears rather attached to him,’ he said, ‘although I have reason to believe that he is not the kind of young man with whom she should be consorting. I would be pleased if he happened to leave London, for personal reasons perhaps, or having been posted elsewhere.’