The Repentant Rake (19 page)

    'Pah!'

    They
were in the hall at the house in Bedford Street. Christopher had arrived as his
brother was about to venture out. He was pleased that Henry had plucked up
enough courage to resume his social life. It signalled a welcome return of his
confidence. Henry was still apprehensive, but the fact that Sir Marcus Kemp was
also a victim of blackmail had somehow rallied him. His was now a shared pain
and that made it easier to bear.

    'Say
nothing of this to your friends,' suggested Christopher.

    'They
would not believe me if I did.'

    'I
agreed to protect Lucy Cheever's secret. She has reasons of her own why the
truth should not spread far and wide. We must respect her wishes.'

    'Gabriel
was a deeper man than I suspected.'

    'Did
you know he had literary aspirations?'

    'No,
Christopher.'

    'Miss
Hemmings confided as much to me. His wife says that he was a talented poet with
ambitions to write plays as well. She said that he was a dedicated author.'

    Henry
shook his head in wonder. 'Getting married? Scribbling away in secret?
Forsaking his old friends and haunts? No,' he said, getting up, 'this is not
the Gabriel Cheever that the rest of us knew.'

    'I
fancy there may be more surprises yet before we finish.'

    'I
hope not, Christopher. I've had rather too many surprises already.'

    'Where
are you going now?'

    'To
call on Sir Marcus Kemp. He was as terrified as I was at first, especially when
he heard that Gabriel had been murdered. He wanted to barricade himself in his
house. But I put some steel into him,' said Henry, adopting a pose. 'I told him
that we must stick together and defy the blackmail threats.'

    'You
may soon have company.'

    'Company?'

    'Yes,'
said Christopher. 'A person or persons capable of murder will be ruthless in
extorting money from their victims. Compromising material may well exist about
others in your circle, Henry. They, too, may receive anonymous demands.'

    'Poor
devils!'

    'See
what you can find out.'

    Henry
was petulant. 'That will not be easy, you know. I can hardly go up to every one
of my friends and ask them to their faces if they have had any unsavoury
correspondence lately. It would be in the worst possible taste,' he said
haughtily. 'They are bound to ask me why I frame such a question and I have no
wish to expose my own wounds to the world.'

    'Your
friends may come to you. Sir Marcus Kemp did.'

    'Only
because one of the incidents mentioned involved the two of us.'

    'The
four of you,' corrected Christopher.

    'One
of those damnable women betrayed us.'

    'Unless
Mrs Curtis was listening at the door.'

    'I
would not put that past her, Christopher. She likes to make sure that her
charges are giving satisfaction. I dare say that Mrs Curtis is no stranger to
eavesdropping or to peeping through keyholes.' A thought struck him. 'Could she
be party to this blackmail?'

    'You
would be in a better position than me to discover that, Henry.'

    'Oh,
no!' moaned his brother. 'I'll not go near her or any other woman again until
this villain is caught. Sir Marcus and I both agreed on that.'

    'Then
you are aping Gabriel Cheever.'

    'In
what way?'

    'You
are a repentant rake.'

    'I
repent nothing!' declared Henry.

    'Not
even your flagrant indiscretions?'

    'No,
Christopher. Repentance takes the edge off pleasure. I'll none of it.'

    Christopher
was glad to find his brother in more buoyant spirits but saddened that his
predicament had not forced Henry to view his past actions with at least a
modicum of shame. The first letter had contained lubricious details about his
private life and he was embarrassed that Christopher had to see them, but he
would make no effort to reform. When the crisis was over, Henry would become an
impenitent voluptuary once more. That fact did not lessen his brother's urge to
help him.

    'I'll
to the morgue,' said Christopher.

    'Whatever
for?' asked Henry with distaste.

    'To
see if Sir Julius has been there to identify the body.'

    'Gabriel's
wife could have done that, surely?'

    'No,'
said Christopher. 'It would be far too harrowing for her.'

    'What
if Sir Julius refuses to acknowledge his son?'

    'Oh,
he will.'

    'You
sound very certain of that,' Henry remarked.

    'My
guess is that even his flinty old heart will melt,' said Christopher. 'Besides,
if he refuses to go to the mortuary, someone else will go in his place.'

    'Someone
else?'

    'His
younger daughter, Susan.'

    Though
the circumstances might have dictated a more sedate pace, Sir Julius Cheever
insisted that the coachman keep his team of horses moving at speed. Not for him
a funereal approach to the city. When they left Richmond, they almost tore
through the countryside. It made for an uncomfortable journey. Susan Cheever
and her father were jostled so violently that leisured conversation was well
nigh impossible. They did not object to that. Sir Julius wanted to wrestle with
his ambivalent feelings in silence and Susan was content to let fonder memories
of her brother preoccupy her. When the city eventually rose up before them,
however, they found their tongues again.

    'Where
will we stay, Father?' asked Susan.

    'Anywhere
but Serle Court. We go from one morgue to another.'

    'That's
unkind. Brilliana and Lancelot did everything to make us feel welcome.'

    'Then
why am I so relieved to quit the place?' said Sir Julius sourly. 'It will be
late evening when we finally arrive. That's a wonderful excuse to stay away
from Richmond for a night.'

    Susan
winced. 'I'd not call Gabriel's death a wonderful excuse.'

    'Nor
I,' he said, immediately contrite. 'Forgive me, Susan. I was trying to find
some small glimmer of light in the darkness that has just descended on our
family. I am quite lost. Gabriel is
dead?
' he said wonderingly. 'At such
a young age? Why? What on earth did he do to deserve such a sorry end?'

    'He
did not deserve it, Father.'

    'Only
time will tell that.'

    She
gazed through the window. 'Do you know a suitable inn?' she said.

    'There
are dozens at our disposal.'

    'So
you have nowhere particular in mind?'

    'No,
Susan.'

    'Perhaps
Mr Redmayne can recommend somewhere,' she suggested casually, still looking out
at the passing fields. 'He lives in London. He will know where we might find
some proper accommodation.'

    'I'm
sure that he would.'

    'May
we call on him?'

    'I
meant to do so in any case.'

    'Did
you?' She turned back to him. 'Where does he live?'

    'Fetter
Lane.'~

    'We
can visit him when our business is done.'

    'Before
that,' he decreed.

    'Before?'

    'With
Mr Redmayne's permission, I will leave you there while I go to the morgue to
identify the body and make arrangements to have it moved.'

    'But
I wish to be there with you, Father,' she protested.

    'No,
Susan.'

    'Gabriel
is my brother.'

    Sir
Julius was peremptory. 'He's my son and I must take full responsibility. A
morgue is no place for you, Susan. The stink of death would stay in your
nostrils for weeks. After all my years as a soldier, I am used to it. You are
not. Besides,' he continued as a distant grief finally started to break
through, 'I want to be alone with Gabriel. I need to make my peace with him.'

    When
Christopher finally got back to his house, Jacob was ready to look after him.
After unsaddling and stabling his horse, the old servant prepared him some
food, explained what had happened during his absence and generally fussed over
him. Over an hour had passed before Christopher was able to set out his
materials on the bare table and do some more work on the drawings of the new
house. His hand moved with intermittent fluency. Dark thoughts kept invading
him. What distracted him most was a consideration of how differently people had
reacted to the news of Gabriel Cheever's unnatural death. Celia Hemmings had
been rocked to the core, moving between anguish and disbelief. Susan Cheever
had fainted, her father had turned away, her sister had made a callous remark
and Lancelot Serle had been wholly unequal to the situation. Most astonishing,
however, had been Lucy Cheever's response. She was a defenceless young woman
who had made immense sacrifices to marry the man she loved and might have been
expected to collapse totally when she heard that he was lost to her for ever.
Yet she had shown a resilience that was extraordinary.

    Jonathan
Bale had been impressed by it as well. The two men had no doubt that, when they
left the house in Knightrider Street, the sorrow would be too much for her to
bear and she would feel the full weight of her loss. While they were there,
however, Lucy had borne up remarkably. There was an inner strength that
sustained her and it must have been one of the qualities that attracted her
husband to her in the first place. As he reflected on the character of the
three women closest to the deceased, Christopher could see that Gabriel Cheever
must have been a young man of unusual charm. His wife and his former mistress
had almost nothing in common yet both loved him devotedly. Though his elder
sister had rejected him, Susan patently adored him, providing, as far as she
was able, the familial love that the others denied him. Three disparate
characters each found something irresistible about Gabriel. They were now
united by a shared pain.

    Christopher
forced himself to concentrate on the work in hand. It was, after all, the means
by which he had been introduced to the Cheever family. Having visited Serle
Court, he could see why Sir Julius was so anxious to have a house of his own.
Brilliana would be a spiky hostess at the best of times. In the situation
thrust upon them, her coldness and selfishness had come to the fore. Well
intentioned as he was, Serle himself had hardly distinguished himself in the
emergency. It was not a happy place to be. Sir Julius only went there out of a
sense of family duty. Christopher was confident that he would insist that plans
went ahead for the London abode. It would be his place of refuge from an
unfeeling daughter and an irritating son-in-law. The architect applied himself
to his task. A more refined version of the house began to appear slowly on the
parchment before him.

    Lost
in creation, he did not hear the coach pulling up outside in the street or even
the ringing of the doorbell. Joseph scurried out to see who was calling. The
voice of Sir Julius Cheever boomed out. Christopher felt as if he had been
shaken forcibly awake. Jacob invited the visitors into the parlour. When
Christopher joined them, his surprise at seeing his client was matched by his
delight in observing that he had brought his younger daughter with him. For her
part, Susan Cheever was at once pleased and discomfited, curious to see inside
Christopher's house but embarrassed that they had descended on him without
warning. He brushed aside all apologies.

    'Do
take a seat,' he said. 'Jacob will bring refreshment.'

    'I
cannot stay, Mr Redmayne,' warned Sir Julius. 'I must visit the morgue. Susan
was kind enough to travel with me from Richmond but I'll not put her through
the ordeal. You have already shown your consideration. May I be so bold as to
trespass on your kindness again and ask if my daughter might remain here while
I am away?'

    Christopher
was quietly thrilled. 'The request is unnecessary, Sir Julius. Please take my
hospitality for granted. Miss Cheever is most welcome in my home.'