The Repentant Rake

mind with his thousand guineas.'

    'What is this bargain you mentioned?'

    'He refused to show me any of the demands he received. Sir Marcus was angry that I even knew about them. It was hard work to strike a bargain with him,' said Christopher, 'but he agreed in the end. If the money is paid and the demands still continue, he's promised to give me the letters and that extract from Gabriel Cheever's diary.'

    'But the demands will stop if you arrest the blackmailer.'

    'I hope so, Henry.'

    'So why reach this agreement with Sir Marcus?'

    'To gain access to vital information in case we fail to catch our man.'

    'We?' echoed Henry.

    'I'll take Jonathan Bale with me.'

    'Why?'

    'He's been assisting me from the start,' explained Christopher.

    Henry was scornful. 'That flat-footed constable is more hindrance than help.'

    'Mr Bale is the ideal person for this kind of work.'

    'I beg leave to doubt that, Christopher. When will the money be handed over?'

    'Tomorrow.'

    'Somewhere in Covent Garden, as I remember.'

    'Yes,' confirmed Christopher. 'The details were sent in the first letter to Sir Marcus. Someone will be waiting to take the money from the designated spot. He's been there every day at noon so far. When Sir Marcus failed to pay up, the amount was promptly doubled.'

    'And he received that chilling extract from Gabriel's damnable diary. What are you going to do?'

    'Hand the money over tomorrow while Mr Bale watches from nearby. It is highly unlikely that the blackmailer will take the money from me in person but the man who does will carry it to him.' He rubbed his hands in anticipation. 'With luck, he'll lead Mr Bale to the villain we are after.'

    'The one who threatened to kill me.'

    'That was a trick to make you pay up at once.'

    'It does not feel like a trick,' moaned Henry, putting a palm to his forehead. 'It has robbed me of sleep every night this past week. The Sword of Damocles hangs over me. Well,' he added grimly, 'the sword of a jealous husband to be exact. All the rogue has to do is to send that letter to Lord Ulvercombe and I am as good as dead.'

    'I still believe that you should get in touch with the lady herself.'

    'Fatal.'

    'Is it?'

    'Her husband stands guard over her day and night. It was only when business called him away that I could get anywhere near her.'

    'Lady Ulvercombe deserves to be warned.'

    'Not by me, Christopher.'

    'Could you not write to her?'

    'And have my correspondence intercepted by that mad husband of hers? Oh, no!' asserted Henry. 'I've already written one letter to her that is a possible suicide note. Why tempt Fate with a second?'

    'How did your billet-doux fall into the wrong hands?' said Christopher. 'That's what puzzles me. Someone must have stolen it from her. Lady Ulvercombe may have some idea who that could be. It's another means of unmasking the blackmailer, Henry. Is there nobody who could act as an intermediary between you and the lady?'

    'No, Christopher.'

    'There must be a reliable confidant.'

    'The liaison was strictly a private affair. Nobody else knew about it - until now, that is. Do not vex me with questions,' he complained as his head pounded. 'My only concern is to stop Lord Ulvercombe from killing me in a duel.'

    'I share the same ambition, Henry.'

    'Then reclaim my billet-doux before anyone else can read it.'

    'I'll do my best,' promised Christopher. 'But do be more discreet next time.'

    Henry grimaced. 'There will be no next time.'

    'You always say that.'

    'Henceforth, I'll confine myself to unmarried ladies. If I live to do so.'

    Christopher smiled confidently. 'Have no qualms on that score, Henry. By this time tomorrow, your worries may all be over and you will be forced to concede what a splendid fellow Jonathan Bale is.'

    'If he gets me off this hook, I'll sing his praises like a choir of angels.'

    'He would enjoy that.' He turned away. 'I'll leave you to get some rest.'

    Henry raised a weary arm. 'One moment, Christopher.'

    'Yes?'

    'When that first blackmail demand arrived you urged me not to pay.'

    'So?'

    'Now you are trying to tempt the villain out into the light of day by handing over some money to him. Why act on behalf of Sir Marcus Kemp when you could have done exactly the same for me?'

    Christopher went back to him. 'How much were you asked for, Henry?'

    'Five hundred guineas.'

    'Do you have that amount in hand?'

    'Of course not.'

    'Then how did you propose to raise it?'

    'From friends,' said Henry airily.

    'What about me?'

    'I would have started with you, naturally, Christopher. But the bulk of the money would have come from the one man who can afford such a sum without blinking an eye.'

    'Sir Marcus Kemp.'

    'Precisely.'

    'Would you have wanted to go cap in hand to him?'

    'It would have been galling.'

    'Then I've spared you that as well. Now you see what brothers are for, Henry. I want to help. When I hand over that money tomorrow, you will not have to worry about paying a penny of it back to the man who would have loaned it to you.'

    Henry rallied visibly. 'How profoundly true! Whether I pay or he does, it is all one. Sir Marcus Kemp's money is handed over either way. You have done me a favour, Christopher. My headache is easing already.'

    'Do not swallow gudgeons ere they're catched.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'It will not be easy to net this blackmailer,' warned Christopher. 'Even with the redoubtable Mr Bale at my side, we will need good fortune if we are to succeed.'

    Sir Julius Cheever had been disappointed that his daughter-in-law wanted to return so soon to London. It cut short the time in which they could develop their acquaintance. He had been even less pleased when Susan announced that she wished to travel back with Lucy, and the old man needed a great deal of persuasion before he consented. Sir Julius himself felt that his place was in the family home, mourning his son in the parish where he was born and brought up. The thought of subjecting himself again to the hospitality of his elder daughter and her husband deprived him of even the slightest urge to travel back to the city. Accordingly, the two young women departed without him, joining a large group of travellers for safety.

    The jolting of the coach and the presence of Anna, the maidservant, made any intimate conversation impossible but Susan and Lucy did manage to spend some time together during the two overnight stops that the