The Revenge of Captain Paine (39 page)

This time Pyke stared directly at him. ‘Do you think the young princess’s claims on the throne are weak?’

‘She is my older brother’s child. Therefore her claim is a legitimate one.’

‘Of course,’ Pyke said, racking his brains for additional ways to draw the duke out of himself.

‘But perhaps that is a question I should ask you.’

‘What?’

‘Whether or not the young princess’s claims on the throne are weak.’

‘Why ask me?’

Cumberland allowed himself a thin smile. ‘Perhaps I should be a little more bold. I think it would be fair to suggest that, until now, we haven’t enjoyed the most cordial of relations. But I don’t want to dwell on the past . . .’

‘How big of you,’ Pyke interrupted.

The duke shot him a fierce scowl. ‘It might also be true that you have held me in contempt and that, in the past at least, this feeling has been reciprocated on my part. But, and it’s an important but, we are both men of the world, are we not, and we don’t have to accept this state of affairs as preordained. You strike me as a practical sort of a chap, one not weighed down too greatly by wearisome morals, and as such I thought we might be able to come to an accommodation based on the laws of the marketplace. That is to say, you have something I might want and would be prepared to pay more than the going rate to secure.’

‘I’m not sure what you’re referring to.’ Pyke waited for a moment and stepped a little closer to the duke. ‘But I did want to tell you about the thuggish actions of two men who needlessly attacked a defenceless old man, my uncle no less, in his place of business, almost giving him a heart seizure.’

Cumberland licked his lips but said nothing.

‘One of these men wore a tiepin bearing the coat of arms of the Fifteenth Hussars. Your old regiment, I believe.’

The duke could have denied all knowledge of it but wanted to remain in Pyke’s favour. In the end, he reddened and stammered, ‘A most unfortunate business, that was. It should never have happened.’

‘But it did, didn’t it?’

‘I heard your uncle was recovering admirably. You’ll pass on my best wishes to him, I hope.’

‘For what they’re worth.’

For a moment, Cumberland appeared on the verge of apoplexy, being addressed in this manner by a commoner, but he managed to contain his outrage. ‘As I said, you’re a flexible fellow. And I could guarantee to top any offer that you might be made.’

Pyke walked round the piano in the direction of the door and yawned. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, sir. I’ve had a long day and I’m dead on my feet.’

The duke met him halfway across the room. ‘In a few days I have to return to my beloved wife and child in Berlin. Until then I can be reached at my house on Kew Green.’

‘And if I decide not to contact you?’

‘Then you’ll lose out on the chance to greatly add to your already considerable wealth.’

‘Perhaps I will, but then again perhaps I won’t.’ Pyke yawned again, this time not holding his hand up to his mouth.

Cumberland tried to hide his revulsion, not very well. ‘You have a couple of days. Use them wisely.’

 
Emily was waiting for him in her bedroom. She’d changed into her nightdress and was sitting up on the bed. Her hair was parted in the centre and had been swept back off her face; her pale skin glistened in the candlelight and there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

‘What did that old goat want?’

Pyke went across to the window and watched as the duke’s carriage disappeared up the drive. It was a long story and he didn’t feel like going into it. The less Emily knew, the safer it would be for her.

‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’ she said, an edge to her tone.

He turned around. ‘As you’ve been so forthcoming about what Jackman and the Wat Tyler Brigade have been planning?’

Her body stiffened with barely repressed anger. ‘Why does it always come back to that?’

‘I had it confirmed today that a senior judicial figure is about to lead a crackdown against the Wat Tyler Brigade. I was told it could get nasty.’

‘By whom?’

‘It would seem they’ve frightened some very influential people. You don’t do that by twiddling your thumbs.’

Emily let out a long, heavy sigh. ‘I said I’d tell you about everything in a couple of days.’

‘And what if by then it’s too late?’

‘Too late for what?’

This time Pyke didn’t know how to answer her question. They sat on the bed, each contemplating the other’s silence.

‘Do you remember the first time we kissed?’ Emily asked, eventually, at the same time brushing her hair.

‘It was in the cloakroom at the Theatre Royal during a performance of
The Barber of Seville
.’

The skin wrinkled slightly at the edges of her eyes. ‘At first that’s what I thought but I’m not sure we actually kissed on that night. I know I wanted to ...’

‘You were wearing a pale pink crêpe dress with thin gauze sleeves.’ Pyke smiled. ‘I wanted to throw you down on the carpet and take you there and then.’

‘Take me where?’ Nervously she fiddled with her hair.

‘Don’t make me answer.’ His smile broadened. ‘We kissed outside a tavern, if you remember. We’d just escaped from an angry mob.’

‘But that wasn’t a proper kiss, was it? It was the relief more than anything.’

‘It felt proper to me at the time.’ His smile suddenly evaporated.

‘I’m not saying it didn’t.’ But her expression seemed pained. ‘But I remember the time we kissed in your uncle’s apartment more clearly.’

‘Was that the night you told me you wouldn’t marry me?’

Emily shrugged. ‘I waited for hours. I didn’t know where you were or what you’d been doing.’

‘You didn’t tell me you were going to be there,’ he said, indignantly.

Emily’s eyes settled on him. ‘That’s exactly my point. We’ve always kept things from each other, played games.
Both
of us. I want it all to stop.’

‘The other day I saw a house for us in the West End.’ He tried to assess her reaction but her face remained opaque. ‘I put down a deposit. If you don’t like it, we don’t have to take it.’

‘Whereabouts in the West End?’

‘Berkeley Square.’

Emily whistled. ‘That’s quite an address.’

‘What you said the other night about wanting to be a proper family. I want that, too. This could be our chance to start again. I’ve never liked this old pile and the house in Islington is too cramped for all of us.’

‘Dare I ask how much or how big it is?’

Pyke tried to seem indifferent. ‘It’s modest, but large enough to accommodate our needs.’ Briefly he thought about the grandiose entrance hall, which extended up through the full height of the building and was topped by a pale blue dome that resembled Wren’s creation. ‘Will you at least come and see it?’

‘Do I have a choice? I mean, you’ve already paid a deposit.’

‘It can be a new start for us. All of us. You, me, Felix ...’

‘And the girl?’

Pyke shrugged. ‘Will you come and see it tomorrow? We’ll all go together, Felix, too.’ He leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Afterwards, he can go for a walk in Hyde Park.’

‘All right.’ Smiling, Emily returned the kiss, this time on the mouth. ‘I thought you’d like to know I’m expecting our child.’

Pyke looked at her, his mouth open. ‘You mean we’re going to have a baby?’ His voice shook with excitement.

Emily nodded, trembling. ‘The physician came to see me today. He confirmed it. But I’ve suspected it for a while.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ He embraced her with a hug. ‘I can’t believe it. After all these years. It’s really true?’

‘I know it’s time for me to slow down for a while ...’ But there was discomfort in her tone.

‘Then why do you sound so unsure?’ Pyke pulled away and looked at her. ‘Come to think of it, why did you put yourself at such risk the other night?’

‘We both need to change, Pyke.’ Her voice turned harder. ‘Both of us, Pyke. That means you, as well as me.’

‘I know. And we can. God, I can’t believe it. We’re really going to have another child.’

Pyke got up, barely able to contain himself. But when he tried to pull Emily up on to her feet she resisted. Smiling, he asked her what the matter was. From beneath the sheets, she told him she was tired. Pyke sensed there was something else on her mind, but when he tried to find out what it was he was rebuffed.

‘We’ll talk tomorrow and over the weekend,’ Emily reassured him.

‘You’ll come and see the house?’

Emily feigned a pout. ‘It doesn’t look as if I have a choice, does it?’

For a while afterwards, Pyke held her in his arms, thinking that even if she hated it, he’d keep her there, if necessary by force, until any threat against her had blown over. Especially now she was expecting his child.

 
They had travelled from Hambledon - the three of them. The girl, Milly, had been sick in the night and was resting in bed. She still hadn’t uttered a word. If anything, the storm had worsened overnight: the easterly winds had picked up and the rain fell from an overcast sky like spears. It was only as they reached the city that the rain began to ease and the winds lighten, but when Pyke instructed the driver to pull over on Cornhill and told Emily and Felix he had to pick up something from the bank, he still had to run across the street to avoid getting soaked.

Five minutes later, he was crossing the road to rejoin Emily and Felix when he saw a carriage parked behind them. Through the open window the cadaverous face of Sir Horsley Rockingham was just about visible. Closer inspection confirmed this. Diverting his path, Pyke approached the stationary vehicle with caution. As he neared the window, he heard a dog barking and saw that Rockingham was accompanied by Jake Bolter. Pyke came alongside the carriage and peered inside. Rockingham and Bolter both smiled. Pyke was no longer concerned about the rain, which had petered out into a drizzle.

‘Have you been following me?’

Rockingham sat forward, his pale face slick with perspiration. ‘Not so pleasant, is it, eh, boy? When the shoe’s on the other foot.’

Pyke glanced over at Bolter who was patting his mastiff on the head. ‘Is that some kind of threat?’

‘You reckon you can slander me in my own neighbourhood and actually get away with it?’

Pyke met his stare. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ But it struck him that he didn’t even know what Godfrey had written on the handbills he’d dispatched up to Huntingdon and Newmarket.

‘Still, the embarrassment is inconsequential compared to what I’ve got planned for you and your family, boy.’

Pyke held his stare. ‘Did you just threaten my family?’

Rockingham receded a little but remained unapologetic. ‘No more than you did to me.’

‘You come anywhere near my wife or my son and I’ll beat you to death with my bare hands.’

‘See?’ Bolter said, to Rockingham. ‘You’ve rattled him. I told you.’

Rockingham just smirked.

Ignoring him, Pyke turned to Bolter. ‘I know you once roomed at a former crimping house near Cowgate with Jimmy Trotter. Trotter was spotted leaving the scene where an old woman was raped and murdered in Huntingdon: the incident that started the violence in the town. Trotter also killed and beheaded an actor called Johnny and dumped his body in a river outside Huntingdon. I believe you were involved,’ he said, turning his attention back to Rockingham, ‘and acting under this man’s instruction. I also believe you planned the murder of Edward James Morris between you, with the ultimate aim of curtailing the progress of the Grand Northern Railway across your land.’

Pyke didn’t know what kind of a reaction he might provoke. At best, he expected mild indifference and resolute silence. He certainly didn’t expect the older man to turn to Bolter and give him a hard stare. That was it. Afterwards, Bolter banged on the roof of the carriage and the driver took up the reins. The carriage rolled forward and, as it did so, he saw the two men exchange heated words: words that made him wonder about the veracity of the scenario he’d just painted.

Thankfully, when he returned to his own carriage, Emily didn’t ask him who he’d been talking to. He felt himself relax.

The rain had now stopped falling and the pavements had begun to fill up. From the cocoon of their carriage, they were protected from the filth and din of the street, but while, for Pyke, it represented a humdrum scene, the vast, stinking city going about its everyday business, to the uninitiated, like Felix, who had never seen so many people of every class and hue, let alone giant advertising boards, omnibuses creaking under the weight of their passengers, hurdy-gurdy men, organ-grinders with their pet monkeys and buildings so tall and imposing they cast the entire street into shadow, there was almost too much to take in. He sat there in awed silence, his face pressed up against the glass, devouring the sheer spectacle of it. Pyke pointed to a giant board advertising a show that featured giraffes and a dancing bear, and Felix rolled his eyes in fear and amazement. These were creatures that until now had come alive only in the pages of books. He wanted to go and see the animal show until another board proclaimed the wonders of a ten-foot man, and then Felix wanted to see that show instead. Promising to take him on another occasion, Pyke noticed a board advertising Groat’s ‘All-New Retail Emporium’ on the Strand, and wondered whether this had closed its doors. He thought, too, about his own action regarding one of the overseers and compared it with what had been achieved by Captain Paine - and without any loss of life. Groat wouldn’t trade again, Pyke mused, but there were plenty of men like him, just as there were bankers like Gore, and indeed himself, queuing up to lend them money. He wanted to say something to Emily but didn’t want to acknowledge that she had been right. The moment slipped by, unnoticed by her or Felix. Squeezing her hand, he thought about the house and whether she would hate it as much as he feared she might.