Deliver us from Evil (54 page)

I
think not,' said Robert slowly.

Lord Rochester sighed, and rubbed his eyes,
I
have, as
I
told you, been exceedingly drunk.'

if you cannot read it now, my Lord, then it will make no difference how sober you become, for it is clear already that the Pasha did not bequeath you the skill.'

Milady's eyes glittered. 'Disappointing,' she hissed. 'Rather as though the offspring of a stud were not to breed.'

'And yet still,' Robert continued, 'you remain the heir to his powers.'

'Very well,' Lord Rochester glanced at Milady, then narrowed his eyes. 'What would you suggest?'

'We must take the book, and return to Amsterdam.'

Lord Rochester sighed, and shook his head. 'The Pasha left there long ago, for even when we spoke with him he had recovered sufficiently to travel, and had only lingered in the city to meet with me.'

'But are you certain he is indeed gone?'

Lord Rochester nodded,
I
received a letter from him some months ago, telling me of his departure for Constantinople.'

Robert swore under his breath, then reached for the book. 'Well,' he nodded, 'we have no other choice. We must leave for Prague instead.'

Lord Rochester stared at him for a moment; then laughed in derision.
'
I
shall do no such thing. Damn you, Lovelace, are you not content to have lured me out here, that now you would have me trail all across Europe?'

But Milady reached forward, and took Robert's hand. 'Lovelace, why Prague?'

'Because it is where the Pasha himself was taught to read the book.' 'Yes,' Rochester sneered, 'by a man who has been dead for sixty years.'

'Where else would we find heirs to the Rabbi's teaching, but amongst his followers in the Ghetto?'

'How can you be certain that he even had any followers?'

I
cannot. But if you have an alternative suggestion, my Lord, then
I
would be overjoyed to consider it.'

'Are there not Jews or scholars in London, who can read in Hebrew?'

Robert smiled thinly,
I
have some knowledge of the language myself

'Then use it, man, use it!'

Robert reached for the book and flicked through the pages; then he shook his head,
I
cannot recognise Hebrew, nor any language, here.'

'Then try harder,' whispered Lord Rochester menacingly. 'For
I
tell you plainly, Lovelace,
I
shall not go to Prague.
I
can think of no purpose that the journey would serve, save to lose us in the bogs and fens of your whimsies.'

'Yet we are already lost, my Lord - and it may be that not even the Pasha could have served us as our guide.'

'Why, sir, what do you mean?'

'Consider, my Lord, this further mystery - that the malevolent spirit who is our deadly foe, who was fought by the Pasha to the very point of death, so that the Pasha himself had believed he was destroyed - was nevertheless somehow saved and restored. How? We know that he was brought here to England by Tadeus; and we may be certain as well that he was brought within a trunk of mortal flesh, the name of which had once been Sir Charles Wolverton - for
I
s
aw for myself Sir Charles' face
melt, and the creature within him emerge through the bone. Yet by what means, by what magic, was that miracle achieved? We must find out, my Lord, if we are to succeed where even the Pasha could not, and forever destroy our foe.' Robert curled his fingers closely together; then he pursed his lips. 'But we will not discover the answers here. For
I
say it again - they are awaiting us in Prague.'

Lord Rochester said nothing for some moments, then swore with sudden violence,
I
cannot leave now,' he muttered. 'My affairs are very pressing.'

'Affairs?' inquired Milady silkily.

I
have business at Court.'

Milady stared at him, her eyes glittering with contempt. 'A rare ambition in our breed,' she laughed suddenly, 'to wish to creep and cringe before a mortal king.'

'And yet it is not so rare, after all, Madam, to desire the company and pleasures of mortals.' Lord Rochester glanced across at Robert, then back at Milady. 'What
I
do not wish, above all, is to be like you, huddled in the shadows, clutching your single mortal toy to your breast.
I
crave richer and more varied delights - the best women, the best balls, the best visits, the best treats - a wicked town-life.' He stretched and laughed, then rose to his feet. 'Since time henceforth is to serve me as my whore - why then,
I
shall seek to fuck her all
I
can.'

'And, like any rake, soon grow impotent.'

Lord Rochester laughed again. 'A pretty moral warning, to come from a blood-drinking bitch.' He waved disdainfully towards Robert,
I
had thought it was he who had been the puritan.'

'So he was,' Milady nodded. 'And it may be, for that reason, he would have served the Pasha better than you.'

'A shame, then, that His Excellency seemed not to agree.'

'Yes,' Milady nodded. 'For his purposes - a great shame indeed.'

There was a silence. Robert stared at Milady in surprise. She met his eye briefly, then looked away, and rose to her feet. '
I
am weary of you both,' she whispered suddenly. She turned, and hurried from the room. Her footsteps soon faded away; all grew silent again.

Robert reached slowly for the book, and gazed down at it. 'What is your business at Court?' he asked at length.

'Unfinished,' Lord Rochester answered. 'For
I
have still to get my wife.'

'Your wife, my Lord? But
I
thought you had Miss Malet.'

I
seized her, it is true, but
I
was not allowed to keep her. If
I
am to make her my own, and still maintain my place at Court, then
I
must first obtain the blessing of the King.'

Robert nodded slowly. 'And you must indeed have Miss Malet? You cannot let her go?'

'No - for like Milady,
I
desire mortal company and, unlike Milady,
I
require my loved one's cash.'

Robert nodded slowly again.

'You need not fear, Lovelace,
I
shall be as fast about the business as
I
can. And in the meanwhile, pass your time with studying the book.' 'There would be no value in it.' 'Try,' Lord Rochester whispered, 'only try.' 'And if
I
do not succeed?'

'Why, when
I
have bagged Miss Malet, we shall both leave for Prague.'

'You swear it?'

I
swear it - for what that is worth.'

Robert smiled faintly. 'Then let us trust you will soon be a married man.'

'Books are not absolutely dead things
...'

John Milton,
Areopagitica

F

or the next months, Robert followed Lord Rochester's suggestion, and continued with his studies; but as he had feared would be the case, he made no progress with the book. Worse, indeed: for he began to imagine, as he stared at it, that the book was reading him -bleeding his thoughts, feeding on his mind until he wanted to scream, for his brain would seem sucked dry. Milady would sometimes try to comfort him; but if she had recently fed, then her presence would only make the agony worse. For Robert was sensitive now to her every taste of blood, to her every after-glow of pleasure, which he would feel all the more sweetly even as the pain began to stab. Indeed, the ache in his stomach seemed always with him now, and at its very worst as he studied the script, as though the letters were stirring some sharp-toothed parasite awake, to rend and gnaw at the depths of his guts. And so he abandoned his studies, and put aside the book - and waited for Lord Rochester to announce that he had wed.

Yet the months passed; and still the letter did not come. As the agony in Robert's stomach began to grow more searing, so he started to write letters of his own, demanding a reply, even the tiniest scribbled note, until at last his patience dissolved into his pain, and he found himself agreeing with Milady's jibe that it would have been better had the Pasha chosen him. 'Nor is it too late,' he began to think - for if he were indeed to become a blood-drinker, with all the consequent powers, then what need would there be for Lord Rochester, what need to wait for him at all? For by now, Robert was desperate to be on his way to Prague: his pain was worsening, and summer fading into autumn. Yet still, both he and Milady were agreed, it would be rashness to leave without the Pasha's chosen heir; and so it was decided in the end, at Milady's urgent prompting, that they would travel first to London and seek Lord Rochester out, before taking ship and heading onwards to Prague.

It was a resolution, however, which Robert made reluctantly; for the danger of discovery, he knew, would be great. 'It may be,' he whispered, as their carriage rumbled through Hyde Park and began to shudder to a halt, 'that they have spies upon every turnpike.' Milady at once twitched aside the curtain and glanced out; then she sat back, the book clasped tightly upon her lap. Robert listened to the cries of the watchmen outside. Instinctively, he reached for his sword. But then suddenly, he heard a shaking out of the reins and, with a violent jolt, the carriage continued on its way. 'And yet
I
am certain,' he insisted, 'that they will be hunting for us elsewhere.' He squeezed Milady's hand. 'Be careful especially when you approach the wharves, for it may be they have thought to have the shipping offices watched.'

Milady nodded faintly, then pulled the curtain back again. 'We are approaching Whitehall,' she whispered, squeezing Robert's hand in turn. 'You as well, sweet Lovelace - be watchful. For
I
would rather lose even this book than lose you.' She kissed him softly upon his lips; then released him again, as the carriage began to slow. Robert swung open the door, and jumped into the street. He saw Milady part the curtain briefly, her golden eyes burning from the shadows; and then the carriage rumbled past. Robert did not linger to watch it disappear, but turned and ran towards the Palace gate.

He slipped through unchallenged; then he hurried along the galleries towards that corner of Whitehall where Lord Rochester kept rooms. But as he drew near to the Holbein Gate, he heard his name called out and, turning round, saw Lady Castlemaine. A servant was following her with four yapping dogs; she waved him away, then beckoned Robert near. 'Lovelace.' She surveyed him up and down. 'You are looking very pretty - if not a little pale.'

Robert bowed,
I
have been lately somewhat ill, my Lady.'

indeed?
I
am sorry to hear it.
I
was thinking
I
had not seen you abroad for a while.'

I
have been much pressed by urgent business.'

'And was it your business to which you were skulking just now?'

Robert glanced back over his shoulder,
I
was on my way to call upon Lord Rochester.'

Lady Castlemaine arched a thin eyebrow. 'Why, Lovelace, you must have been ill, indeed, to be so ignorant of the news about Court. Did you truly not know that my cousin is gone to sea?'

'To sea?' Robert closed his eyes in disbelief, then struggled to compose himself. 'Why, my Lady? Where is he gone?'

'To be a hero. For it was decided, if he was to be judged a worthy husband for Miss Malet, that he would have to prove himself by whipping the Dutch.'

'When is he expected back?'

'Whenever our fleet is victorious. Judgement Day, perhaps.' Robert swore violently.

Lady Castlemaine narrowed her eyes. 'Why, Lovelace,' she murmured, 'you sigh as fetchingly as any lady here at Court. Indeed, you are pale as all the rest of us are.'

Robert smiled grimly. 'My Lord Rochester is greatly missed, then,
I
presume?'

'Oh, exceedingly - it is said that a woman has only to gaze into his eyes, and her reputation is irretrievably doomed. For not only is he the most handsome and witty man at court; he is also the most unprincipled, and dangerous to my sex.' Lady Castlemaine paused; then she breathed a deep sigh,
I
could wish,' she murmured, 'since he is a cousin of mine, that
I
too had been granted the secret of his appeal.'