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Authors: Judith Cutler

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Although he never once looked back, the boy seemed to sense that someone was in pursuit. He sped up, dodging down alleys and slipping into doorways. After a mile, perhaps a little more, I had to admit that he had given me the slip.

So, lost and uncomfortably hot in my fine feathers, I had only one thing to do – to ask why my visit to Hans Crescent was so important as to warrant a messenger to Mr Larwood’s place of employment. And so much effort to make sure that I did not know what it might be.

Retracing my steps, discovering, of course that my elegant boots were not as comfortable as I expected, I found a tavern and pondered my next move over a glass of surprisingly good ale. The landlord was keen to press refreshment upon me and, reflecting that I could do nothing until Mr Larwood’s promised return at four, I accepted some excellent spiced beef.

It was exactly four when I presented myself again in Hans Crescent. This time my assault on the knocker went unheeded. Where the shutters were not up, the blinds were drawn. The house as not only empty, it was deserted.

There was not even a servant to admit me when I slipped round to the back door. I stood staring at it in disbelief.

Dusk was deepening swiftly. I was in an unfashionable and
ill-lit part of London. I had been thoroughly gulled. My misery was complete, I thought, when rain began to fall on my fine feathers. I would to turn round trudge my weary and embarrassed way back to Berkeley Square.

But it was not. There was someone else in the yard. Someone emerging from an outhouse. I bethought me of Cribb, and tried to recall all his precepts as I heard the swift footstep. I braced myself, lashed out hard. But as Jem had feared, I tried to fight fair. After a bruising blow to the head, I felt nothing.

It was hard to persuade poor Mrs Tilbury not to summon Sir Henry Halford himself to attend my injuries, but I was constant in my assertion that little apart from my pride was truly damaged. Eventually she withdrew, muttering something I did not quite catch. Meanwhile Wilfred did not put in an appearance, which – even in my befuddled state – I found strange.

Feeling lamentably sorry for myself, in due course I contrived to shed my fine plumage. My coat, unlike my hat, which appeared to have been jumped on, was largely undamaged, and I was sure that Wilfred or Tilly would contrive to remove the odd spots of blood. My shirt collar was another matter altogether; the cuffs were also badly stained. At least the shirt itself was reasonably intact. But not even a needlewoman as skilled as Mrs Trent would be able to restore the torn knees of my breeches.

As for myself, lump on the back of the neck apart, I was really no worse a schoolboy who had taken a bad tumble and had scuffed and bruised more skin than was comfortable. The
only source of real pain was in fact my feet, and I set about easing off the confounded boots. I believe I groaned. In some irritation I rang for Wilfred, only then recalling that the Reverend Tobias Campion would have had to manage himself, not withstanding a little discomfort. But rung I had, and I might as well ask for some brandy.

There was an immediate tap on my door. Had the lad been lingering outside waiting for my summons? What a fearsome master I must have seemed. But even as I bade him enter and turned to apologise, a familiar voice declared, ‘No need to announce me, lad.’

Wearing but one boot, I sprang to my feet. ‘My dear Edmund: can it really be you? What brings you here?’

‘Curiosity. I ever desired to see your family’s town house.’ His bland smile was a replaced by a frown. ‘And it seems I came at the right moment.’ He knelt to yank off the second boot. ‘That Wilfred of yours has seen to the jarvey – who did his best to bamboozle me into paying far more than my shot until Wilfred told him he was doing it too brown and to, er, cut his slum. He’s just brought up my baggage and is even now unpacking. I will ask him to leave everything where it is and to bring hot water and towels here. Then I will see what I can do to make you presentable.’ He slipped from the room, returning on the instant. ‘Bend your head, if you please.’ He looked at but did not yet touch the back of my neck. ‘Hmm. What was stolen?’

‘Very little. They left me my money. But they took my watch – not the one my grandfather gave me – and my fob—’

‘Fob, Tobias? I thought you eschewed such fripperies.’

‘I thought I should truly play the role of a man of fashion,’ I said, ‘in case I needed to browbeat Mr Chamberlain. As it
was, I so thoroughly misjudged the situation that I have let his whole family slip through my fingers. They have flit the coop, as Matthew would say.’

‘How did you manage to annoy them enough to have you set upon?’ There was a tap at the door. As Wilfred entered, Edmund smiled. ‘Thank you. Just put everything there on the washstand, if you please. Now, in my valise you will find some lavender water. Would you be kind enough to bring it?’ The astonished young man withdrew, and Edmund applied himself to washing his hands. Only then did he fall to prodding and poking my injuries.

He was so engrossed that he did not notice Wilfred’s return.

He coughed politely. ‘The lavender water, sir. And I have taken the liberty of bringing some bandages.’

‘Good man. Now, I think you should lay out his lordship’s clerical garb for this evening, do not you? And then we will ring for you.’

‘Very good, sir. My Lord.’ Wilfred did as he was bid and left obsequiously.

‘How strange to hear that mode of address,’ I said, as if speaking would take my mind off the contusions he was intent on cleaning. ‘The Reverend Campion – how infinitely more mellifluous are those words. I never want to be a lord again,’ I added. ‘I cannot, will not, return to my old life, Edmund. Almost these injuries could be God’s judgement upon me for my folly and vanity.’

‘In that case, given the character of some of the clergymen I know, I must expect to see a great deal of broken heads and torn clothes,’ he said, washing his hands afresh. ‘You are not a thing of beauty, Toby, but you will pass. If you pull down your cuffs a little no one will detect anything amiss – except
you, of course. Do you need any drops for the pain? No? Good man. I can see we must ask Cribb to engage in a couple of bouts with you, to remind you of what you should have done.’

‘Hard to do anything if someone creeps up behind and cudgels one!’ I bleated, wishing I had asked for just a little of the laudanum of which he so disapproved.

He snorted in amusement or disgust, I knew not which.

‘But where is Mrs Hansard?’ I asked belatedly. ‘Did she not accompany you?’

He said, with a bravery that sounded more like bravado. ‘She says she can spare me for a few days – but a few days only. This is the first time we have been apart since our wedding, Tobias…’ He coughed, and continued, ‘She insists that there are enquiries to be made in the village – of Mrs Powell, for instance – which she can do quite safely. And, since she has promised me never to go unaccompanied, on this occasion I let her have her own way.’

Privately I wondered if Mrs Hansard was unhappy at the prospect of assuming the role of one accustomed to life this side of the baize door. If only she could know that Jem seemed to be achieving it with no problems. ‘She will take no risks?’ I pressed.

Hansard struck one fist on to the palm of the other. ‘Damn it, Toby, do you not think I worry about her safety every moment of the day? We all feared – Lady Chase included – that it would look quite singular if we all decamped at once. Toone will look after her – as long as he is not as drunk as a wheelbarrow.’ He took a turn about the room. At last he turned. ‘Where do we two bachelors dine tonight?’

I had forgotten that he must be both weary and hungry
after his journey. It was time to be host again.

I managed a smile. ‘Did Wilfred show you to your room, Edmund?’

‘To the best guest chamber.’

‘Then I am afraid he must remove you to another – to the second-best guest chamber.’

‘Second?’ he demanded, an ironical gleam in his eye.

‘The best is awaiting the return of the Reverend James Yeomans, Edmund,’ I responded with an answering gleam in mine. I added seriously. ‘And for nothing on earth would I slight him by demoting him—’

‘Can you even think of it? I anticipate, of course, a battle royal when he returns and begs to sleep in a coal scuttle rather than a decent room. What is his news?’

‘There is none yet. He spends the night in Southwark, where I suspect a coal scuttle would indeed be more comfortable than the chamber he occupies. Tomorrow I send a messenger to enquire – though now I have scared off the Larwoods, there is no reason for me not to go in person. With you as my escort, no doubt,’ I added with a mocking bow.

‘We may have other things to occupy us. I think we should lay this information before the Runners.
They
most certainly have the authority to run these Larwoods to earth, and moreover they have men enough to do it. I suppose it is just possible that the attack on you is entirely unrelated to the Larwoods, but on the other hand someone hit you about the head and trod on your hands, and did it on their premises. Enquiries might as well start with them.’

‘But what if Jem needs help too? How ironic that it was he who went to Southwark because he thought it too dangerous
for me, and it is I who – in a quite respectable yard – suffer this.’ I touched the back of my head.

‘What I cannot understand is this deviation from our plan,’ he declared with asperity. ‘You were both to be clergymen.’ He sat on the day bed and stared at me.

‘As I told you, we thought a gentle enquiry from a clergyman might be to no avail, that a man in the mould of Vernon might be sufficiently intimidating.’ I would not implicate Jem. Perhaps we had both been pot-valiant when we had hatched the scheme.

He gave me a shrewd glance, but said nothing. ‘And to repeat my question, where shall we dine tonight? Thank goodness Sir Marcus and his tribe have inured us to town hours. Even so, I could eat a stalled ox.’

‘I’m sure we shall find some herbs to go with it. But not here. I told dear old Tilly – the housekeeper – that I should fend for myself this evening, though I know she is longing to cook for me. Tomorrow, perhaps… Did you bring your evening gear? Well, then, may I suggest Grillon’s…’

 

‘You set the Runners after an innocent family?’ Jem repeated, in tones mixing disbelief and doubt.

We had been shown by one of the Franes’ little maids, apologising for her mistress’ absence, into the same dismal morning room as before. It did not respond well to the sun, enfeebled though it was by misty cloud which would become fog by the end of the day.

‘They may be far from innocent. Do not blame Tobias – it was my doing,’ Edmund insisted. ‘We cannot run all over the country looking for the family.’

‘But what if they are free of all blame? After all, to have a
strange man presenting himself at your door and demanding to see someone—’

This was in fact exactly what Jem had recommended. However, there was no point in repining, and I would certainly not apportion blame, since I had acquiesced more than willingly in the change of plan. Even to the boots.

Edmund replied, ‘Then at very least we shall be able to speak to them about what made them flee. And how do you do, Jem? It does not seem to me as if the Reverend James Yeomans slept well.’

Jem looked about him, as if he could detect ears pressed to the door. He dropped his voice. ‘Mr and Mrs Frane do their best, I suppose.’ He stopped short, pulling back his cuff to reveal the unmistakeable sight of flea bites.

‘Which is the most damning condemnation one may make,’ growled Edmund softly. ‘And have you had any luck with your enquiries?’ he asked in his normal voice.

‘None, as yet. But Toby’s bribery encouraged many children – and some older people – to come to the church porch at four. I told them what I needed to know, asked if any of their acquaintance had gone missing – which aroused considerable black mirth, I fear – and promised a reward for hard news. I was just about to set forth about the taverns when you called. I accompanied Mr Frane to matins,’ he said, as if needing an excuse for not having set mouth to tankard before now. ‘There were just the two of us and the churchwardens. I left the three of them discussing a funeral. There are so many there is talk of obtaining more land to extend the graveyard, but Mr Frane suspects that many families simply dispose of their kin in the river, to save expense.’

‘It is, alas, not just those who die in what pass for their beds
who fetch up in the river,’ Dr Hansard observed. ‘It behoves us to make sure that you do not inadvertently become one of them.’

‘Amen,’ I agreed.

‘As to that, it would be better if I were not seen in your company,’ Jem said, with a smile I thought was forced. ‘Deviating from our plan had ill results yesterday, Toby, and I am sorry for it.’

‘Nay, my assailants might not have been deterred by my bands,’ I said hastily.

‘What I fear, Jem, is that yours may not be either,’ Hansard said grimly. ‘Might I make one suggestion? I understand that you will send a messenger with any news. Pray do not go into any detail. The simple word
Eureka
will suffice. I have it,’ he explained.

Suppressing a vision of Jem, like the great philosopher, hurtling naked down the street, I said, ‘And pray God we have it soon – the sooner we return to the safety of our village the better.’

They both looked at me. ‘Safety? In Moreton St Jude? There was none for the poor man in the stream, Tobias,’ Edmund reminded me, ‘and there may be none for us, once all this comes out.’

 

‘If only we could unlock its secrets,’ Dr Hansard declared fervently.

We stood before the Rosetta Stone, which I had seen back in ’01 or ’02 when it was first put on display. Dr Hansard, however, had not visited the British Museum since his return from India and evinced a desire to see this wonder of the ancient world. I had suggested a tour of the museum to take
our minds off Jem’s possible trials, realising all too strongly that much as we wanted to protect him, our very presence might endanger him further.

‘I believe that there is already a young French scholar hard at work on just such an investigation,’ I said, dredging the information from some gossip conveyed to me by one of my mother’s regular chatty letters.

‘French? I suppose it is fitting, since it was French soldiers who discovered it in the first place. How such works of art come to be spoils of war, allocated under a treaty, defeats me. God knows what we would have to cede should Napoleon conquer us.’ He looked at his watch, for perhaps the fourth time in the last half hour. He, too, was wondering if our friend was still safe.

I strove for something that would divert our thoughts, preferably an occupation that made no further demands on my feet. The smart boots might remain in my chamber, there being no need for a respectable clergyman to embrace anything other than comfort, but they had a lasting revenge. We would both enjoy a performance at Drury Lane that evening. Should I bespeak our vacant family box or pay for a lowlier place? I explained the situation to Edmund.

‘I think that you were in the right of it as far as Jem was concerned,’ he said at last. ‘And I rather think we should continue to eschew the comforts of the box. I do not want him to have the slightest idea that you treated us differently, and I am sure that, careful as we might be, we might let the secret drop. Let us go with the crowd, Tobias. Then if the performance is bad, we can hiss it off the stage.’

The performance was neither good nor bad. We had promised Mrs Tilbury that we would afterwards return to
Berkeley Square. Just as Mrs Trent would have been piqued not to show off her skills, so dear Tilly wished to show she was still the mistress of a bachelor supper. Given the state of her poor eyes, I dared make no predictions as to the quality, but I would wager that the quantity would be equal to Mrs Trent’s.

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