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Authors: Susanna Gregory

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‘No! There is nothing to say he is a member of the Piccadilly Company – indeed, Williamson has charged him to monitor them.
Besides, his sister was almost murdered by Fitzgerald’s henchmen. I doubt that would have happened if he were their leader.’

‘His sister was taken along a dark lane to be rescued by you,’ corrected Thurloe. ‘Perhaps she was never in any danger. And
I have never liked his role in all this – he just
happened
to be there when Cave and Elliot fought; he just
happens
to have a mad sibling whom Williamson uses to secure his services. I have not forgotten that he and Fitzgerald were once
shipmates, either.’

‘Who else?’ asked Chaloner, declining to argue.

‘Meneses. He was Governor of Tangier, and we all know how talented they are at making themselves rich – and
he
was so brazen about it that he was dismissed. I am bothered by Leighton, too. He is the Adventurers’ secretary, but he has
criminal connections. It would not surprise me to learn that he is pitting two powerful and greedy organisations against each
other for his own ends.’

‘What about Dugdale and Edgeman?’ suggested Chaloner. ‘They are Adventurers, but both are treacherous types who would think
nothing of betraying friends. They serve the Earl, yet they consort with his enemies. It is suspicious.’

‘Possible but unlikely – I doubt the Earl pays them enough. Of course, they may have access to a source of wealth that we
do not know about. Kipps is rich, too,
but his application to enrol as an Adventurer was rejected. I imagine he bears them a grudge …’

‘Yes, but that does not mean he would act on it,’ said Chaloner defensively.

‘Then there are those who are openly villainous,’ Thurloe went on. ‘Brilliana, the wealthy courtesan; her brother Harley,
who must have been well paid to carry out the Tangier massacre; and the Janszoons, who know nothing about the glassware that
their Company exports …’

‘And whose shaky English is stirring up anti-Dutch sentiments,’ finished Chaloner. ‘I am not surprised that they never go
anywhere without guards to protect them.’

‘We cannot dismiss Ruth as a suspect, either,’ Thurloe went on. ‘She lives in the Crown, is sister to the sinister Lester,
and wife to Elliot – who is said to be dead but is probably alive. Most men do not marry lunatics, so you must ask yourself
whether she is as fey-witted as she would have us believe. After all, it would not be the first time a devious plot was masterminded
by a lady.’

Chaloner shook his head. ‘She is not wealthy. Neither is Lester.’

‘On the contrary,’ argued Thurloe. ‘Lester did very well for himself in the navy, and captured several enemy ships that were
later sold for princely sums. He is extremely rich, and would certainly share his good fortune with a much-loved sister.’

Chaloner regarded him uneasily. Lester did not give the impression of being well off, while Ruth’s lodgings in the Crown were
hardly palatial. Of course, he had no idea where Lester lived – it might be a mansion on The Strand, for all he knew. But
he
liked
the man, and his instincts still told him to ignore Thurloe’s reservations.

‘And finally, I am not happy with Kitty O’Brien,’ Thurloe went on. ‘She has seduced Williamson, perhaps to distract him from
her crimes. Her husband is more interested in inveigling himself into high society than in plotting, and he certainly does
not need more money – his copper sales have made him fabulously rich already.’

‘Then the same applies to Kitty,’ argued Chaloner.

‘Only if he lets her into the family purse. She may as well be poor if he ekes out every penny. Incidentally, I received a
report from one of my old spies when you were out. It seems Fitzgerald is not the only one who has plans for tomorrow.’

‘Yes?’

‘Leighton has arranged for the Adventurers to dine aboard
Royal Katherine
at dusk. It will be a glittering occasion, and several dozen Adventurers and their spouses are expected to attend.’

‘In Woolwich?’

‘Yes – that is where
Royal
Katherine
is moored.’

‘Do you think he arranged it so that he and his cronies will be away from the city when Fitzgerald strikes?’ asked Chaloner
uneasily. ‘Or, if Leighton is Fitzgerald’s master, that he plans to keep the Adventurers alive, because he cannot be secretary
if there is no corporation?’

Thurloe sighed tiredly. ‘Who knows? We have too many questions and too few answers.’

‘There is one thing we can do,’ said Chaloner suddenly. ‘Williamson refuses to arrest Fitzgerald of his own volition, so we
must persuade the Earl to
order
him to do it. Perhaps the plan will founder without Fitzgerald to see it through.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Thurloe, although he did not look convinced. ‘What then?’

‘The Swedish Ambassador is visiting White Hall at noon, and all our suspects are likely to be watching the ceremonies. It
will afford me a final opportunity to eavesdrop.’

‘Then I shall join you,’ determined Thurloe.

‘No!’ Chaloner was horrified. ‘It is not a good idea for ex-spymasters to invade White Hall.’

‘Credit me with some sense, Thomas,’ said Thurloe irritably. ‘I shall go in disguise. And do not say it is a risk I need not
take, because I was doing it before you were born.’

Chapter 10

Chaloner arrived to find White Hall in turmoil, because preparations for the ambassadorial visit had been left until the
last minute. The Banqueting House was full of frantic servants, and there was an air of emergency as they tried to make everything
ready in time. The situation was not helped by the number of courtiers who had appeared to ‘help’. They included the King,
who seemed to know what he was doing, and a vast array of earls, dukes and lords, who did not.

Chaloner walked inside, dodging around six footmen who were struggling to carry an enormous painting of a Turkish bordello.
It had been used for the play that had been performed there recently, but it was too large to hide with ceremonial cloths
– and was hardly a suitable backdrop for diplomatic ceremonies – so the King had ordered it removed. Judging by the strained
expressions on the men’s faces, this was easier said than done.

‘The
blue
ones, man!’ Buckingham was shouting to another minion, who had been charged with hanging flags. ‘We keep the red for the
Russians, and today’s visitor is Swedish.’

‘I shall ensure the ambassador does not take umbrage,’ drawled Lady Castlemaine. ‘
I
can think of something that will make him feel welcome.’

Chaloner glanced at her once, and then looked again because he could not quite believe what he had seen. She had donned a
flimsy shift that did nothing to conceal her elegant curves, and had adopted a posture to show them to their best advantage.
He was not the only one whose attention had been snagged: virtually every other man was staring, too.

‘She was wearing a gown over that when she first arrived,’ said Kipps, making no effort to disguise his admiration. ‘But she
gave it to the Queen, who said she was cold.’

Chaloner looked to where he pointed, and saw Katherine standing forlornly to one side. The robe was too long, and trailed
rather ridiculously on the floor. Hannah, who was with her, beckoned Chaloner over.

‘I see someone caught your eye,’ she said frostily.

‘She caught Hyde’s, too.’ Chaloner gestured to where the Earl’s son was hurrying towards the Lady, divesting himself of his
coat as he went.

‘What is he doing?’ asked Hannah, amused. ‘Does he intend to ravage her? The King will not appreciate that. Not in front of
all these witnesses.’

They watched Hyde drape the garment around the Lady’s shoulders. Irritated, she shrugged it off, but the King happened to
glance around at that moment, and was patently furious to see his mistress sharing herself with the world. He surged towards
her and had it buttoned around her in a trice. He muttered something to Hyde, who flushed with pleasure.

‘Hyde will be even more unbearable now,’ said Hannah in disgust. ‘Smug little b—’

‘Why all the fuss?’ asked Chaloner quickly, looking around at the chaos. The Queen was within earshot, and he did not think
she would approve of a lady-in-waiting calling her secretary names. ‘The Swedish ambassador’s reception has been planned for
weeks. I read about it in
The Newes
.’

‘Yes, but no one reminded the Court, and it was only remembered this morning,’ explained Hannah. ‘So the King roused everyone
out to make ready in time. The Queen and I have been asked to make sure all the paintings are hung straight. I am sorry I
did not come home last night, by the way. I was at Brodrick’s soirée until dawn.’

‘I missed you,’ lied Chaloner, not bothering to mention that he had not been home either.

‘Brodrick had invited a lot of Adventurers,’ said Hannah disapprovingly. ‘They do nothing but party these days – they are
having another one tomorrow, on
Royal Katherine
. O’Brien is going, too. He is flattered by the invitation, but it will not induce him to join – Kitty is too strongly opposed
to slavery. But here comes the Queen. Be nice to her, Tom: she is in low spirits today.’

‘Meneses has abandoned me,’ said Katherine bitterly in Portuguese. ‘Hannah said his interest would last only as long as he
thought I had money to give him, and it seems she was right. I should have listened to her.’

‘But Meneses is here, ma’am,’ said Chaloner, puzzled. ‘I saw him when I came in.’

‘Yes, but he has shifted his affections to Kitty O’Brien. Of course, he will make no headway there, because her heart belongs
to Joseph Williamson. Breaking sacred wedding vows seems to be the way of this horrible Court.’

Chaloner was not sure what to say, given that the King was nearby, laughing heartily with his paramour. He was, however,
aware that such remarks were dangerous for both of them, even when spoken in a language that few, if any, courtiers would
understand.

‘Please, ma’am. Someone might hear—’

‘Why should I not say what I think?’ she flashed, tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘People accuse me of undermining the English
throne by refusing to produce a baby. So why should I not speak treason, since people believe it of me anyway?’

‘Who believes it of you?’ asked Chaloner gently. Hannah was glaring at him, assuming he had introduced whatever subject was
upsetting her mistress.

‘Everyone!’ whispered Katherine miserably. ‘Someone went into my favourite purse yesterday, and left me a terrible letter.
It said the murder I had commissioned will occur tomorrow. I have commissioned no murder, but who will believe me when I deny
it?’

‘Burn it,’ said Chaloner urgently. ‘As soon as possible. And make sure nothing remains, not even ashes. Do you have any idea
who might have put it there?’

‘I do not think my ladies-in-waiting would stoop so low, not even Castlemaine. And the only men to have set foot in my apartments
recently are my husband, Hyde and Meneses.’

‘Meneses,’ said Chaloner, a solution snapping into his mind. ‘And now he shuns you?’

Katherine bit her lip, and he saw he had been overly blunt. ‘I suppose Meneses might have done it,’ she admitted unhappily.
‘Revenge, because I cannot repay his friendship with gold and titles.’

More tears glittered, but Chaloner was spared the
need to make some comforting remark by the unlikely figure of Dugdale, who approached with a patently false smile. He bowed
elegantly to the Queen and turned to Chaloner. The grin stayed in place, but his eyes were hot with anger.

‘How dare you approach the Queen,’ he said. He spoke mildly, to disguise the hostility in his words. ‘If you wish to speak
to royalty, you request an audience through
me
. The protocol is perfectly clear on this point.’

‘Thomas is being told he cannot talk to you,’ explained Hannah icily, when the Queen turned questioningly to her. She shot
Dugdale a glare of dislike, not a woman to stand by while her husband was being unjustly attacked. ‘In future, he must ask
this gentleman first.’

‘It is protocol, ma’am,’ reiterated Dugdale defensively. ‘And he has no right to break it.’

‘Does that mean he must request your permission to talk to his wife, too?’ asked Hannah archly. ‘Because that it what he was
doing when you stormed over and interrupted us. There are protocols about that, too – and you have just broken them. Now go
away, before I complain to Clarendon about your shabby manners.’

Dugdale stared at her in astonishment, but Hannah glowered at him until he bowed to the Queen and left, muttering under his
breath that the Earl wanted to see Chaloner at once. Chaloner grinned, delighted to see him put so firmly in his place.

‘Vile man!’ exclaimed Hannah, watching him go. ‘He makes my skin crawl.’

Chaloner left her blackening Dugdale’s name to a Queen who barely understood, and went to see what the
Earl wanted. Dugdale intercepted him, his face dark with anger.

‘And do not address her in that foreign tongue, either,’ he snarled. ‘The King issued express orders that she is to be spoken
to only in English or French. How dare you defy him!’

‘I did not know,’ said Chaloner, supposing he should not be surprised. No monarch would want a wife who gabbled away to people
in a language he did not understand.

‘Well, you do now,’ snapped Dugdale. ‘And if you do it again, I will tell him, and it will bring you more trouble than you
can possibly imagine.’

Chaloner was sure it would, and was equally sure that Dugdale would relish every moment of it.

Clarendon’s contribution to the preparations was overseeing the refreshments. He strutted up and down the tables, adjusting
a bowl here and a platter there, sampling as he went. Hyde was with him, screening his father’s antics from the other courtiers
by placing himself in their line of vision. Chaloner did not blame him: Buckingham and the Lady would have ridiculed Clarendon’s
comically gluttonous behaviour for months if they could have seen what he was doing.

BOOK: The Piccadilly Plot
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