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Authors: Edward Marston

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Historical

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BOOK: The Parliament House
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    'Did you not see that as an act of gross betrayal?'

    'Betrayal of whom?'

    'Of Sir Julius Cheever and me.'

    'You urged me to get close to Cuthbert,' Henry said. 'You told me that I had to find out certain things about him. I could hardly do that if I stayed out of his way.'

    'You did not have to support him at a duel.'

    'A duel that should never have taken place,' said Bale, darkly.

    'There's such a thing as honour, Mr Bale,' said Henry.

    'I see no honour in killing a man with a sword. Duelling is a devilish practice and it was rightly abolished. Too many good men died for no reason.'

    'That's not the point at issue here,' said Christopher, annoyed that his brother could stand so calmly before him. 'The duel was merely a way of drawing Sir Julius into the open. Once there, he could be trussed hand and foot with this ancient statute.'

    'Yes,' said Henry, 'that rather took me by surprise.'

    'Are you sure?'

    'I'd swear to it, Christopher. What do I know of legal matters? When I was asked by Cuthbert to act as his second, I thought that he meant to proceed with the duel.'

    'And kill Sir Julius.'

    'He's never killed an opponent before and I've been at his side on three occasions. Cuthbert - the Earl of Stoneleigh to you - has a softer side. He prefers to humiliate an opponent, draw blood then show magnanimity by withdrawing.'

    'He showed no magnanimity to Sir Julius.'

    'I taxed him about that.'

    'And what did he say?'

    'That if a man is stupid enough to put his head in a noose, he must not be surprised if someone pulls it tight.'

    'I wonder that you can be so blithe about it, sir,' said Bale.

    'So blithe and uncaring,' said Christopher. 'Sir Julius is incarcerated in the Tower. Think what that means to a man of his dignity. And spare a thought for his family. I had to tell them what had happened. They were distraught.'

    Henry was concerned. 'Was Brilliana upset?'

    'She was in floods of tears.'

    'I'd not have hurt her for the world. If I'd known what Cuthbert had in mind, I'd never have agreed to act as his second. But you insisted that I court him,' he told Christopher, 'and that's exactly what I did.'

    'Even though it meant enraging your brother?'

    'I hoped that you'd not recognise me.'

    'I'd recognise you
anywhere,
Henry. I was simply grateful that Sir Julius did not realise you were there. He'd have run you through.'

    'Then he'd not have heard what I discovered.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'The duel need never have taken place, Christopher.'

    'It should not have taken place,' said Bale, officiously. 'If it were left to me-'

    'One moment, Jonathan,' said Christopher. 'I fancy that Henry has something important to tell us. Am I right, Henry?'

    'You are,' replied his brother, 'and it will demonstrate which side I am really on. Be prepared for a revelation.'

    'Go on.'

    'The duel was arranged on false grounds.'

    'Sir Julius was goaded into it.'

    'That was deliberate, Christopher - but not strictly fair.'

    'Nothing about the earl suggests fairness.' 'Do not deride him,' said Henry. 'He's a brave man. When you take part in a duel, you put your life at risk. How was he to know that Sir Julius would not turn out to be an expert swordsman?'

    'I saw no bravery in him today - only arrogance.'

    'That's because you did not know the circumstances.'

    'They seem clear to me, sir,' said Bale. 'A play was performed that held Sir Julius up to ridicule. He was bound to feel the need to strike back at its author.'

    'I agree, Mr Bale, but that's not what he did.'

    'It's exactly what he did,' argued Christopher. 'He issued a challenge to the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

    'Yes, but Cuthbert did not actually write the offending scene.'

    'But it was in a play that bore his name.'

    'Inserted there by another hand, a very mischievous hand.'

    Christopher was bewildered. 'Are you telling us that the man who belittled Sir Julius Cheever in front of a theatre audience was not the earl?' Henry nodded. 'Then who did write that scene?'

    'Maurice Farwell.'

    

    

       Maurice Farwell rolled over in bed and reached for his goblet of wine. He offered it first to the woman who lay beside him and then, when she had taken a sip, he put it to his own lips. Farwell set the goblet back on the bedside table.

    'What better way to toast our success?' he said, suavely.

    'I knew that we'd bring him down in the end.'

    'I'm sorry that it took so long, my love. It meant that you had to endure his attentions far longer than I'd hoped.'

    'The most difficult part of it was being compelled to meet his family,' said Dorothy Kitson, purring as he caressed her thigh. 'He had a frightful daughter who badgered me all evening. It was not helped by the fact that Orlando insisted on being present.'

    'Your brother is such dull company.'

    'No woman could say that of you, Maurice.'

    'Orlando still thinks that it was an accident that we met Sir Julius at Newmarket that day. In fact, knowing that he'd be there, you made sure that you introduced me.'

    'One glance at you, Dorothy, and he was bewitched.' 'Thank you,' she said, accepting a kiss, 'but there's only one man in whom I have any real interest and he lies beside me now.'

    'What would Orlando say if he saw us together?'

    She laughed. 'I think that he'd have a fit. My brother knows so little about the ways of the world. He's very gullible. When I told him that I'd heard about the duel from your wife, he believed me implicitly. Poor Orlando!' she sighed. 'He's so blind.'

    'Forget about him, my love. Forget about everyone but us.'

    'The person I most want to forget is Sir Julius Cheever.'

    'Being alone with him must have been a trial for you.'

    'It was, Maurice. I'd hoped he'd be shot in Knightrider Street. When he somehow survived, I had to grit my teeth and carry on with the charade. And when he came back alive from Cambridge,' she said, pulling a face, 'I could not believe my misfortune.'

    'His luck has finally run out now, Dorothy.'

    'What will happen to him?'

    'I'll let him rot in the Tower for a few weeks.'

    And then?'

    'I'll have him poisoned,' said Farwell, reaching for the goblet again. 'More wine, my love?'

Chapter Thirteen

    

    Still at home with his two visitors, Christopher Redmayne needed time to think. Two imperatives were guiding him. He had to rescue Sir Julius Cheever from his perilous situation, and he had to win back Susan's love and trust. The two demands were linked. The only way that he could liberate Sir Julius from the Tower of London and restore his reputation was by unmasking those who had devised the plot against him. That, in turn, would make Susan look on him more favourably again. At least, that is what he hoped. After the way that he had let her down, there was no guarantee that she would ever let him back into her heart. Christopher accepted that.

    After what Jonathan Bale had told him, he felt certain that the Earl of Stoneleigh and his cousin, Erasmus Howlett, were implicated in the murder of one man and the attempted murder of another. And it seemed crystal clear that the earl had baited the trap that had left Sir Julius imprisoned on a serious charge. The revelation from Henry Redmayne had forced his brother to question his assumptions. It had been Maurice Farwell who had penned the defamatory scene in
The Royal Favourite
and not the play's author. Were the two men working in concert with Howlett, or had Farwell and the brewer hatched the plot between them? An already complex situation had suddenly become even more confusing.

    While his visitors waited in silence, Christopher pondered for a long time. Eventually, he turned to Henry.

    'What do you know of Maurice Farwell?' he asked.

    'Nothing to his disadvantage,' said Henry, peevishly. 'Every man should have at least one vice in his life but Farwell seems to have none. While others scheme, he has risen by sheer merit. Now Cuthbert is cut from a very different cloth,' he added with a grin of approval. 'He knows how to carouse the night away with a pretty actress on each arm. Cuthbert is able to enjoy himself.'

    'That's not my idea of enjoyment, sir,' said Bale.

    'Then your life is too circumscribed.'

    'My enjoyment comes from my wife and family.'

    'It's the same with Cuthbert,' said Henry. 'He delights in his wife and children as well. But he keeps them in their place so that they do not interfere with his work.'

    'Carousing with actresses is hardly work,' noted Bale.

    'It's one of the privileges of being a celebrated playwright and Cuthbert is like me. He's not a man to neglect any of his privileges.'

    'What about Mr Farwell?' said Christopher. 'Is he a good friend of the earl's?'

    'I've never seen them together. On the other hand, they must be well-acquainted if he was allowed to write a scene in one of Cuthbert's plays. And what a hilarious scene it was! I laughed for an hour.'

    'Did you admit that to Sir Julius?'

    'Of course not,' said Henry. 'I'm not that stupid. And his daughter must never find out the truth either. Jeering at her father is not the best way to endear myself to Brilliana.'

    'I think that she already has your measure,' said Christopher.

    'What can I do next?' asked Bale. 'We know that Mr Howlett is related to the earl. Do you want me to find out how well the brewer knows this Mr Farwell?'

    'My brother is the best person to do that,' said Christopher. 'We need him to obtain a copy of their handwriting.'

    'Whatever for?' asked Henry.

    'Because we have that unsigned letter, instructing a man to kill Sir Julius on his way to Cambridge. The person who wrote it was either the Earl of Stoneleigh or Maurice Farwell.'

    'It was certainly not Cuthbert.'

    'How can you be so sure?'

    'Because I know his hand well,' said Henry, reaching into his pocket. 'In fact, I have an example of it right here.' He produced a piece of paper and gave it to Christopher. 'It was my summons to act as his second. You showed me the two letters you found. As you see, Cuthbert's hand bears no resemblance to either of them.'

    'None at all,' said Christopher. 'Look, Jonathan.'

    Bale glanced at the letter and shook his head solemnly. 'It's not him, Mr Redmayne. The earl did not send that letter to Crothers.'

    'Then only one person could have done so.'

    'Maurice Farwell.'

    'Get us a copy of his handwriting, Henry.'

    'I'm not on those terms with him,' said his brother.

    'Then find someone who is,' said Christopher. 'And do so as a matter of urgency. We're trying to solve one murder and prevent another one.'

    'Another one?'

    'You don't suppose that they will let Sir Julius escape now, do you? They have him exactly where they want him.'

    'The law must take its course,' said Bale.

    'I don't think that it will be allowed to, Jonathan. These men are devious. Why wait for a trial when they can have him removed any day they wish? No,' decided Christopher, 'my guess is that they had Sir Julius imprisoned in the Tower so that he would be at their mercy. Act swiftly, Henry,' he instructed. 'We simply must find out the truth about Maurice Farwell.'

    

    

        'I thought that I might catch you, Maurice,' said Orlando Golland. 'You always dine here when parliament is in session.'

    'I'm a creature of habit,' said Farwell.

    'You are like me. Work comes before everything.'

    'But I do like to eat well while I'm doing it.'

    Maurice Farwell had just left the tavern in Westminster when Golland intercepted him. The lawyer was itching to learn more about the rumour that his sister had passed on to him.

    'I can guess why you came, Orlando,' said Farwell, tolerantly.

    'Dorothy gave me the most remarkable tidings.'

    'She had them from my wife, I believe.'

    'Is it true? Sir Julius has been arrested?'

    'Arrested and clapped into the Tower. He challenged Cuthbert to a duel and committed a crime in doing so by seeking the life of a Privy Councillor.'

BOOK: The Parliament House
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