Part 42 (1/2)

'Causing profound embarra.s.sment, by the look of it. He'll not be in a position to do that again for a very long time. I need to raise a sensitive matter with you,' he went on, lowering his voice, 'and it may help if your wife is present.'

'My wife is not at home.'

'Your servant just a.s.sured me that she was.'

'Rose is not available,' said Crenlowe sharply. You have my word on it. If you wish to speak to me, then perhaps you'll step in here,' he added, taking his visitor into the parlour. 'I hope that your stay will be brief. I need to get back to my work.'

'Then let me broach that delicate subject, Mr Crenlowe,' said Christopher, watching him closely. 'Were you aware of any connection between Signor Maldini and your wife?'

Crenlowe paled. 'Of course not! What are you suggesting?'

'That you had the best motive of all to see the fencing master dead.'

”This is nonsense, Mr Redmayne!'

'If you'd been cuckolded by the man -'

'No!' howled the other, bunching a fist. 'That's not true!'

'I have letters from your wife that Signor Maldini kept at his lodging. They leave no room for doubt, Mr Crenlowe.' He took them from his pocket. 'Do you wish to see them?'

'Put them away! Rose could never have written them.'

'I'd need your wife's confirmation of that.'

'I've told you, Mr Redmayne. She's not here.'

'Yes,' said Christopher, 'but I've reached the stage where I do not believe a word that you tell me. You visited Henry in prison to give the impression that you were concerned about him when, in point of fact, you were the man responsible for putting him there. When you heard that I was trying to clear Henry's name, you offered to help so that you could keep an eye on any progress that I made. Then we come to the jewellery that Signor Maldini commissioned from you,' he continued, putting the letters back in his pocket. 'You refused to admit that it ever existed and I think that I know why. The fencing master played a cruel trick on you.'

'Be quiet!' shouted Crenlowe.

'He wanted you to design a piece of jewellery that he'd give to your own wife.'

Crenlowe went berserk. Rus.h.i.+ng at Christopher, he pushed him back with both hands before darting across the room to s.n.a.t.c.h up a rapier that stood in the corner. He came forward again with murder dancing in his eyes.

'He mocked me, Mr Redmayne,' he said, taking up his stance. 'He was not content with stealing my wife's affections from me, he mocked my trade by getting me to fas.h.i.+on some jewellery that he'd give to her in secret. Can you think of anything more despicable than that?'

'Yes,' said Christopher. 'Stabbing a man in the back then letting my brother go to the gallows for the crime. That's what I call despicable, Mr Crenlowe.'

The goldsmith lunged at him. Stepping back out of reach, Christopher threw his hat into his a.s.sailant's face. It gave him time to draw his own sword. The two men circled each other in the middle of the room. Christopher gave a grim smile.

'Let's see what Signor Maldini taught you, shall we?'

Crenlowe lunged again but his blade was parried. When he slashed wildly at Christopher's head, the latter ducked out of harm's way. Roused to a pitch of desperation, the goldsmith attacked again and again but every stroke was parried or rendered ineffective by neat footwork. Their blades clashed once more then locked together. Christopher's face was inches from that of the goldsmith. Crenlowe strained his sinews to force him back but he was up against someone who was younger, stronger and impelled by an urge to vindicate his brother. With a concerted effort, Christopher shoved him away so violently that his opponent tripped and fell to the floor. Before he could even move, Crenlowe felt a searing pain in his wrist as Christopher's rapier drew blood and made him drop his sword with a clatter.

Standing over his man, Christopher held the point of his weapon at his throat.

'Now, Mr Crenlowe,' he said. 'Tell me what really happened that night.'

Epilogue.

Lady Whitcombe was overjoyed to receive the invitation to Fetter Lane. The thought of spending time with Christopher Redmayne was always a pleasant one but it held an even richer promise now that she had made her declaration to him. Feeling that she was in a position to exert influence over him, she had no hesitation in using it. Since his brother had now been released from prison, Lady Whitcombe had a double reason to rejoice with him. She could mark her closer relations.h.i.+p with the architect and celebrate the vindication of his family's name. Nothing could now prevent Christopher from resuming his work for her. Even her son, Egerton, albeit reluctantly, had accepted that. It was her daughter, however, who was now proving troublesome. They were in the house of the friends with whom they were staying. Lady Whitcombe was about to leave.

'Let me come with you, Mother,' said Let.i.tia, grabbing her arm.

'Not this time,' replied the other, waving her away. 'Mr Redmayne and I have private business to discuss.'

'But I wish to congratulate him on solving that crime.'

'I'll pa.s.s on congratulations for you, Let.i.tia.'

'Mother!'

'There's no point in arguing,' said the older woman. 'I'm going alone.'

'I want to see Mr Redmayne,' protested the girl, stamping a foot in rebellion. 'I like him and he likes me. It's so unfair to keep me away from him like that.'

'You'll be seeing a great deal of him in due course, I promise you.'

Before her daughter could throw a tantrum, Lady Whitcombe swept out of the house and stepped into her carriage. During the drive to Fetter Lane, she rehea.r.s.ed what she was going to say to the young man whose talent as an architect, and whose charm as a person, had so captivated her. When she arrived at the house, he opened the door to her himself and gave her a cordial welcome before taking her into the parlour. Lady Whitcombe had the distinct impression that they were the only people there and that added to her sense of excitement. She took a seat and beamed at him.

'Let me say how delighted we all were to hear your good news,' she began. 'Your brother must be immensely proud of you for what you did on his behalf.'

'I had a great deal of help, Lady Whitcombe,' said Christopher modestly. 'My good friend, Jonathan Bale, deserves much of the credit.'

'But you are the chief architect of this triumph.' She chortled. 'Forgive me, Mr Redmayne. I did not mean to offer you such a feeble play on words. The point is that you were brave and resolute.' She became almost coquettish. 'In your letter, you said that you had something of importance to tell me.'

'Yes, Lady Whitcombe.'

'Well?'

'It concerns your commission,' he said, sitting beside her. 'If I'm to continue in your employ, there's something that must be understood at the start.'

'You must continue,' she insisted. 'I'll hold you to the contract.'

'Yet you had doubts about me earlier on.'

'Only for a brief moment. Be advised, Mr Redmayne,' she said with quiet authority, 'that I'd never release you from the contract. It's legally binding.'

'In that case, we must talk about your late husband.'

'Sir Peregrine?' she asked, quite baffled. 'Why?'

'Something rather distressing has come to light,' he said.

Christopher tried to break the news to her as gently as possible. He explained about Jeronimo Maldini's work as a spy and how certain doc.u.ments had been found in a secret compartment of his desk. Lady Whitcombe angrily refuted the suggestion that her husband would have had anything to do with the man until she was shown letters in a hand that she identified immediately. There could be no doubting the fact that Sir Peregrine Whitcombe had been willing to betray his country in return for payment. She remembered that her son had talked of introducing his father to Maldini. That was how the connection between them had first been made. It threw her into a panic. If the truth about her husband were to become common knowledge, she would lose face completely and the memory of Sir Peregrine Whitcombe would be reviled. It would mean a dramatic loss of all the things she most prized. Realising the consequences of disclosure, she reached out to grasp Christopher's hand.