'No matter.'
'It's not what you think it might be, Lady Holcroft.'
'Oh? Why do you say that? Do you know what the letter contains?'
'No, Lady Holcroft but I trust the young man who wrote it.'
'Too many young men have tried to involve me in a correspondence.'
'I can understand that.'
'As a married woman,' said the other, 'I naturally spurn all their attempts.'
'The letter was given to me in confidence by a Mr Redmayne.'
Lady Holcroft recoiled as if from a blow. For a moment, she did not know quite how to react. A stab of pain showed in her eyes. Without warning, she turned abruptly on her heel and walked swiftly away. Susan bit her lip in dismay. She felt that she had let Christopher down badly.
Jonathan Bale studied the dagger with interest. He held it on the palm of his hand to feel its weight. When he called at the house in Fetter Lane that morning, he found Christopher Redmayne alone. His father had visited the prison again and Jacob was at the market to get some provisions for the larder. It enabled them to talk freely about what each had found out since their last meeting. Jonathan was disturbed to hear of the second attack.
'I've never seen a weapon quite like this before,' he said, turning the dagger over. 'And he hurled this at you?'
'Yes, Jonathan.
'Why did he not draw his sword? If you were dazed by the blows from the cudgel, he had you at a clear disadvantage. One quick thrust of a rapier and you were done for.'
'He seemed to lose his nerve and flee.'
'Then he was no practised assassin, Mr Redmayne. If he was the same man who pushed you in the river, you were lucky. He's had two chances to kill you and lacked the skill to take either.'
Christopher smiled. 'I don't propose to offer him a third opportunity.'
He no longer wore the bandaging around his head but the bruises had now come out on his arms and shoulders, showing him just how much punishment he had taken. He was grateful to be able to tell his friend about the attack. After handing the dagger back to him, Jonathan described his visit to the home of Sir Humphrey Godden and his night-time vigil outside the tenement where Hannah Liggett lodged. Christopher was interested to hear his opinion.
'You think that Sir Humphrey is hand-in-glove with our Captain Harvest?'
'That was the feeling I began to get, sir.'
'Then why did the captain not seek refuge at the house in Covent Garden? I'll wager that Sir Humphrey could offer him a softer bed than the one he'll find in a tenement near the river.'
'But he could hardly share it with Hannah Liggett there.'
'True,' said Christopher. 'And his friend might not want him under his roof. Captain Harvest - or whatever his name really is - belongs to a part of his life that Sir Humphrey chooses to keep hidden from his wife. Well, Jonathan,' he concluded, 'if the two of them are in league together, they must have an accomplice, for it was neither of them who ambushed me outside my stable.'
'The man who did was not in their employ,' decided Jonathan. 'They'd hire a more seasoned assassin than the one who attacked you. That does not mean you ignore this fellow. I think you need someone to guard you, sir,' he went on, worried for his friend. 'If he's struck twice, he's determined to kill you. Let me act as your protector.'
'My Lord High Protector?' teased the other.
'Your life is in danger, Mr Redmayne.'
'So is my brother's,' said Christopher, 'and he's in no position to defend himself. I am, Jonathan. Thank you for your offer but I can take care of myself. I want the fellow to try again. I'll be more than ready for him.'
'As you wish, sir.'
'You keep looking for the man you deprived of his disguise as a soldier. Most likely, he'll have taken on another by now but there are some things even he cannot hide.'
'I'd know him anywhere, Mr Redmayne,' said Jonathan, moving to the door. 'But I also intend to call at Newgate today. Your brother may be ready to speak to me now.'
'Do not count on it,' warned Christopher.
He saw his friend out of the house then returned to the parlour. After examining the dagger again, he slipped it into a drawer. He crossed to the mirror and used a delicate hand to flick hair over the scalp wound that had now dried up. When he heard a tap on the door, he thought that Jonathan had come back but a glance through the window showed that there was a carriage outside the door. Lady Whitcombe had called. Though she was the last person he wished to see at that moment, he conquered the urge to lie low and pretend that he was not at home. Her coachman banged on the door more loudly. As soon as Christopher opened it, Lady Whitcombe alighted from her carriage with the aid of the coachman and surged towards the house. Under her arm were the drawings that Christopher had delivered to her house in Sheen.
'I'm so glad that I caught you at home,' she said, sweeping past him to go into the house. 'Forgive my descending on you like this, Mr Redmayne, but I've had a change of mind with regard to your design.'
'You wish to rescind our contract, after all?' he said anxiously, closing the door and following her into the parlour. 'I understood that I was still your architect.'
'You were, are and ever will be,' she told him before glancing around. 'Is your father not here this morning?'
'No, Lady Whitcombe. Father left earlier. He's visiting my brother. May I offer you some refreshment?' he asked with brisk civility. 'Jacob has gone to market so I have to play the servant today.'
'Oh, we are alone in the house, are we?'
'We are.'
'How convenient!' Removing her hat and cloak, she handed them to Christopher who went into the hallway to hang them on a peg. When he returned, he saw that his visitor was seated in a chair, arranging her dress. 'Come and sit beside me, Mr Redmayne,' she said. 'There's something we need to discuss.'
Christopher took a seat. 'You talked about a change of mind.'
'Only with regard to my bedchamber. I think I'll go back to your original suggestion about the proportions of the room. I was wrong, you were right.'
'Every architect likes to hear that from a client.'
'Before we talk about the house,' she said, 'you must let me apologise for my son's behaviour yesterday It was very untypical of him. Egerton can be such a delightful young man, as you will in time discover.'
'I bear no grudges, Lady Whitcombe. I admired your son's forth- rightness.'
'His father always taught him to speak his mind.'
'He certainly did that,' said Christopher.
'He misses his father greatly,' she sighed. 'Almost as much as I do.' She regarded him through hooded eyes. 'What do you think of Letitia?' she asked.
'Your daughter is a charming young lady.'
'A little wanting in true beauty, perhaps.'
'Not at all,' he said gallantly. 'Good looks are obviously a family attribute. Your son is very handsome. He and his sister are a credit to you, Lady Whitcombe.'
'I hoped you'd think that. Letitia lacks maturity, that's her main fault.'
'It will vanish with the passage of time.'
'That's what I told her,' said Lady Whitcombe. 'Letitia will grow into herself. Believe it or not, I was a trifle gauche at her age.'
'I refuse to accept that.'
She gave a laugh. 'You flatter me, Mr Redmayne. Though, looking back, I have to tell you that I much prefer the blessings of maturity to the blundering of inexperience. Egerton became a man when his father died. Letitia has yet to blossom.' She beamed at him. 'It pleases me so much that you are fond of my daughter. In a sense, it signals your approval of me.'
'That was never in question, Lady Whitcombe.' She laughed again. 'Shall we look at the drawings again?' he suggested. 'I can soon make the necessary adjustments.'
