The Frost Fair

    'Miss Cheever would never lend herself to what you suggest.' 'Brilliana would give her no choice in the matter.' 'I'm sorry, Mother. I disagree with you. I see no hidden meanings here.'

    'You will, Jack. You will. Where is Miss Cheever now?' 'She went to her room to rest.'

    'At her age?' asked Mrs Cardinal in surprise. 'Rest is for ladies of my years and my constitution. It should not be encouraged in young ladies, especially those as robust as she. Fetch her, Jack.'

    'What?'

    'Fetch her. I want to speak to her.'

    'But she may be asleep, Mother.'

    'Then wake her up. I did not bring her all the way to London so that she could go to sleep on me. Invite her in here then we'll descend together. Lord and Lady Eames will think us poor guests if we slumber throughout the whole afternoon.'

    He was reluctant. 'It would be unfair to disturb her.'

    'My needs take precedence over Miss Cheever's,' said his mother. 'Shame on you, Jack! Would you oppose the wishes of a sick woman?'

    'I'll fetch her at once,' he promised.

    Cardinal went out. He was troubled by his mother's comments. As an eligible bachelor, he was not unused to having available young ladies thrust at him by grinning parents and he had learned to avoid the situations in which that could happen. He did not have the feeling that Susan was being presented for his approval in such an obvious way. If anything, she had been a little distant with him when he first arrived at Serle Court and had made no attempt to engage him in conversation. It was only when she had been invited to join them in London that she showed any enthusiasm for their company. He did not sense that Susan was deliberately trying to ingratiate herself with him. That was what he found so attractive about her. She seemed to be very much her own woman.

    He walked along the landing to a room at the far end and tapped politely on the door. When there was no response, he knocked a little harder. Getting no reply again, he rapped on the door with more purpose. There was a long silence. He inched the door open and peeped in, only to find that the room was empty. Cardinal was about to report back to his mother when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see Susan Cheever, wearing her cloak and hat, tripping up the backstairs.

    'Where have you been?' he asked.

    'Oh,' she said, startled to see him. 'There you are, Mr Cardinal.'

    'We thought you were in your room.'

    'Yes, I was. But I had a headache and felt that a walk in the garden would help to clear it. Have you seen the rear garden? It goes right down to the river.' Having invented an excuse, she began to embellish it. 'I enjoyed my walk so much that I lost all purchase on time. It was fascinating to look at the river now that the ice is melting. I'm rather sad that the frost fair has disappeared but it could not last. What a pity you were not able to see it, Mr Cardinal! It took my breath away.' She removed her hat. 'Have I been gone long? Have you missed me?'

    'Very much,' he replied with a smile. 'I'm glad that you came back.'

    'I feel so much better for my walk.'

    'What about your headache?'

    'Oh, that soon vanished, Mr Cardinal,' she said, relieved that he obviously accepted her explanation. 'Going out into the fresh air was the best thing I could have done. My little walk has refreshed me completely.'

     Christopher Redmayne had stayed long enough to watch her disappear around the side of the building before he set off again. The sudden change in his fortunes had left him in a state of exhilaration. To see Susan Cheever again so soon was a miracle in itself but there had been another unforeseen blessing. As a result of staying at the mansion in the Strand, she would be able to dine with Sir Ralph Holcroft and his wife. It gave Christopher the perfect opportunity to communicate with the woman whom he believed might hold vital information that could be of direct benefit to his brother. He was tingling all over.

    Having accompanied Susan back to the house, he now had to walk home alone and he did not let his feeling of joy distract him from the need to be watchful. His dip in the River Thames was still a painful memory. On the stroll back to Fetter Lane, therefore, he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and his mind alert. It was still light and traffic was busy. When he reached Fleet Street, he had to wait until a coach and three carts had gone by before he could cross the road. Fearing that someone might lunge out of the crowd at him, he remained vigilant all the way home. No attack came but he did have an uncomfortable feeling that he was being followed. When he reached his door, therefore, he turned suddenly on his heel and stared down the street. His instinct had not betrayed him.

    Christopher had been followed but it was by a friend. Jonathan Bale was hurrying towards him.

    'Why did you not shout?' he asked when the constable caught up with him.

    'You'd not have heard me with all the noise,' said Jonathan, as a carriage thundered past with two horsemen behind it. 'London gets more deafening every day.'

    'Then let's step inside where we can hear ourselves.'

    They went into the house and made for the parlour. Jacob appeared from the kitchen to take their cloaks and hats. Since the attack on his master, he insisted on wearing a dagger himself even though the likelihood of his having to use it was remote. The two men sat down in order to exchange their intelligence. Christopher felt constrained. Though he had confided everything else to his friend, he had deliberately kept his brother's involvement with Patience Holcroft to himself. It meant that he could not share the exciting news that he had finally found a means of getting in touch with the lady. Instead, he had to enthuse about his father's visit.

    'It removed all trace of doubt in my mind,' he explained. 'My brother is innocent. If Henry had been guilty of that crime, my father would surely have known it.'

    'How, Mr Redmayne?'

    'How do you know when your sons have misbehaved?'

    'Murder is rather more than misbehaviour.'

    'You know what I mean, Jonathan.'

    'Yes, I do,' said the other. 'As for my sons, they always look so uneasy that I can see at once if they've been up to mischief. And so can Sarah.'

    'It's not quite as simple as that in this case. Henry was so confused.'

    'And now?'

    'He knows that he could never have killed that man.'

    'What did your father think of Newgate?'

    'He was horrified,' said Christopher, 'and not merely because one of his sons was being held there by mistake. The whole prison revolted him. Father is like me. He could not believe that a building with such a grand exterior could be so vile and soulless on the inside. That abiding reek turned his stomach. He looked ill when he came out again.'

    'Did you visit your brother yourself?'

    'Briefly. I took some more food and drink for him.'

    'Were you able to mention my request?' asked Jonathan. 'I know that your brother is not fond of me but I would still like to visit him on my own. Would that be possible?'

    'Only if you are ready to withstand a torrent of abuse.'

    'What did he say?'

    'At first, he ordered me to keep you away at all costs.'

    'And then?'

    'He changed his mind. Henry told me that he so hated being locked up alone in a prison cell that he'd welcome a visit from his worst enemy. Those were his exact words.'

    'I see.'

    'You'll have to make your own decision, Jonathan. But I'd better warn you that he was very upset when I told him that you were taking a particular interest in his case.'

    'That does not surprise me.'

    'Henry seems to have forgotten a previous occasion when you helped to get him out of trouble. All that he remembers is the way that you upbraided him afterwards.'

    'He deserved it, Mr Redmayne.'

    'Oh. I agree. But it did not endear you to him.'