Theft of Life (25 page)

‘It reminds me that I come from somewhere, Mr Crowther. That I had people there.’

‘Do you wish to return?’

‘No. That is, I know some do and I understand it, but I have been away too long, Mr Crowther. If I went back now, my people would say I have become a white man. You do not wish to return to the place you were born, do you?’

‘Keswick? No, certainly not. They would accuse me of having become a southerner.’ He heard William’s low laugh behind him and he slept again.

W
HEN CROWTHER AWOKE, WILLIAM
had gone and Philip had taken his place. He helped Crowther with his morning ablutions and then told him with a discreet cough that Mrs Westerman was asking if he was awake. He gave his permission for her to be fetched. Without even wishing him good morning she checked his various wounds and asked a long series of questions. She seemed angry with him, which Crowther understood to mean she had been very worried, so he suffered it all with as much patience as he could muster.

‘No, there is no sign at all of internal bleeding and yes, I would have expected it by now if serious damage had been done’, he told her. ‘Have you breakfasted? When will you leave to see Tobias Christopher?’

She looked annoyed. ‘I am going nowhere at all while you are like this, Crowther. I am staying with you.’

‘Harriet, there are by my count at least twelve servants in this house, as well as Mrs Service and Graves. I have a further half-dozen of my own available at a moment’s notice. What exactly do you think you can do for me that they cannot?’

She sat down firmly on the armchair by the fire and her skirts puffed around her. ‘Nonsense. I cannot leave you.’

He leaned over and grabbed the handbell placed there for him and rang it, grunting slightly as his bruises complained. Philip appeared at once.

‘Philip, my clothes and my shoes, if you please.’

The young man looked confused. ‘They are filthy, sir.’

‘Nevertheless, Mrs Westerman will not visit Mr Christopher without me, and I wish to know what he has discovered. My clothes, if you please.’

‘Oh, Crowther stop, I beg you!’ Harriet said. ‘Philip, you shall fetch nothing.’

‘Oh Philip, you shall. Unless Mrs Westerman orders the carriage at once.’

And when Harriet hesitated: ‘Come, I am well looked after and I am sure you are as curious as I am to know how Guadeloupe came by that watch.’

She capitulated. ‘Very well. If you could ask for the carriage to be sent round, Philip.’

The senior footman bowed and retreated, hardly smiling at all.

‘You are in truth not seriously hurt, Crowther?’ Harriet asked.

‘I will survive, I believe. Now I would be glad if you could do something to find whoever put me into this condition.’

Harriet put her chin in her hand. ‘You saw nothing useful of your attackers?’

He settled himself again. ‘No, apart from the fact that the man who struck me was somewhat shorter than I am, and was solidly built.’

‘Mr Sanden, perhaps?’ she said hopefully.

‘I do not remember Mr Sanden’s breath stinking so foully.’ Crowther yawned. He was more tired than he had realised. The older he became, the deeper these injuries seemed to go. ‘I am sorry that I do not recall more, but it was dark, and it all happened so damnably fast.’

She smiled at him. ‘Just don’t die, Crowther. You know I couldn’t bear it.’

‘I will do my best. Now tell me what happened yesterday after we parted. And try not to make me laugh, my jaw hurts like the devil.’

She had just finished with an account of Oxford’s ‘accident’, and Crowther’s jaw was sore, when Philip returned to announce that the carriage was ready. Mr Crowther would not let him leave the room until he had shaken his hand.

Mr Christopher’s Academy was housed in a considerable building on Soho Square. Even this early in the day, figures could be seen through the high windows on the ground floor taking instruction on the use of the short sword.

Harriet was shown into what must at one time have been the ballroom. A number of gentlemen, their coats removed, stood in a wide semi-circle while in front of them Mr Christopher was trading strikes with another young man. As they fought, Mr Christopher maintained a commentary on his actions. He moved with such grace and economy it seemed he was hardly exerting himself at all. His opponent, by contrast, was red in the face and sweating. Harriet looked around her. There was a large portrait of the Prince of Wales prominently displayed, but otherwise the walls were decorated solely with crossed swords and foils. In each of the alcoves were racks holding what seemed to her a great variety of weaponry.

Her attention was drawn back to the fight by the sound of a sword clattering to the scuffed wooden floor. Mr Christopher had disarmed his opponent and was now explaining how he had done so. The gentlemen all nodded and stroked their chins, and Christopher bowed to them, and having given them liberty to continue their practice alone as long as they saw fit, he wished them good morning and picked up his coat. He carried it over his arm as he came towards Harriet, then at once took her arm and bent towards her.

‘Mrs Westerman, I was not certain to see you this morning. How is Mr Crowther?’

‘You have heard? He is badly bruised and in more pain than he is willing to admit, but he assures me he will live. How did you hear?’

‘I had a note at daybreak from Palmer. Will you come upstairs and take a dish of tea with me and my wife, and you may reassure me further. I am sorry I was not there last night.’

Behind her, the irregular clashes of metal on metal rang through the high chamber. ‘How did Palmer know? No matter. I should be delighted. Crowther thinks he broke the nose of the man who was holding him.’

‘Good,’ Christopher said firmly. ‘This way, please.’

He led her out of the ballroom and up a wide oak staircase. As they climbed, it seemed the house became less martial and more feminine. On the landing hung a pretty landscape in oils over a table with a red ceramic vase placed on it. Christopher took her into a sunny parlour on the first floor. A lady who Harriet presumed was Mrs Christopher was sitting at a round, high table with three small children. One, a boy of about Eustache’s age, seemed to be at his studies judging by the scattered papers and his look of fierce confusion. The two girls and their mother were at their sewing. The youngest, who could not be more than six, was working with great concentration and limited success on a scrap of material. Her sister, perhaps not much older than the boy, was neatly embroidering initials on a blue square of linen. The scene would have made an excellent subject for a print extolling domestic harmony. The children were all tawny-skinned, pitched halfway it seemed between their parents.

Mrs Christopher and her children all stood at once and the introductions were made. When the children had shaken hands with their guest they were ushered out and Harriet was seated and tea placed at her side. She liked the look of Mrs Christopher; the woman was cheerful and composed, seemed concerned for Crowther and interested in the lotions used to treat him. ‘You can imagine, given my husband’s profession, that I have had to treat a great many bruises in my time. Have I not, Tobias?’

‘You have healing hands, my dear.’

She grinned. ‘And I make liberal use of the brandy bottle. I find that cures most men under forty admirably. But Mrs Westerman has not come here only to discuss ointments.’

At this, Christopher heaved a sigh. ‘I am ashamed to speak to you after all my fervour yesterday, my friend. Guadeloupe refuses to tell me where he “found” the watch, despite all my threats and promises. I am disgraced.’ He sat down heavily in his chair. ‘I begin to fear perhaps he did have some hand in Trimnell’s death. Bystander, accomplice, perhaps? The tool in the hand of some other fiend. God knows, the boy never thinks for himself.’

‘I think you are too hard on him, Tobias,’ his wife said. ‘There is more good in him than he will himself admit.’ She turned towards Harriet. ‘Do you think Guadeloupe had any part in it, Mrs Westerman?’

Harriet considered, then replied: ‘No. Crowther was beaten as a warning. I am sure of that. That suggests that someone has heard about us asking questions yesterday and is afraid we will find something out about Trimnell’s death. Therefore Guadeloupe must be innocent. Though perhaps the attack was meant to punish me. Still, Crowther is sure that the men who assaulted him were the same who assaulted Trimnell, so perhaps Guadeloupe found the watch, after all.’

‘What did you do, Mrs Westerman, that deserves punishment?’ Christopher asked.

Harriet told them about her encounters with Mrs Trimnell and young Oxford the day before. Mrs Christopher stifled a giggle when she spoke of the young man being tumbled into the muck. Her husband looked at her disapprovingly.

‘Well,’ she grinned, ‘I’m sorry, Tobias, but I am glad to hear of it. He sounds like just the sort of man who loves to hurl abuse at us from the other side of the street.’

Harriet looked between them, more hurt than she knew how to show. ‘You are insulted in London?’

Tobias shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘If we go to the Pleasure Gardens or the fair in a modest sort of way, Mrs Westerman, our reception is friendly enough. But I found in the first days of my prosperity that those who had a mind to dislike us – a black man with a white woman and tawny children – were provoked beyond endurance when we dressed finely and went abroad in a carriage. An African walking with a white woman is one thing. A rich African walking with a fashionably dressed white woman is too much for them. My wife has money in her purse to dress in high fashion should she wish, but she does not. Modest gentility is as high as we can style ourselves in safety. It goes against my nature, for I would dress my wife in gold and think it only a fraction of her worth.’

Mrs Christopher patted her husband’s arm. ‘As if I would have the time to dress in silk while managing your home.’ She looked back to Harriet. ‘I am very glad you think Guadeloupe innocent of the charge against him.’

As she was saying this, the door was flung open and an attractive girl of about sixteen years of age flew into the room. ‘Papa, Mama! I am home! I had such a fine visit. Mrs Green was quite charming and Cecelia and I drove all around the lanes in a gig.’ She suddenly noticed Harriet and faltered. ‘Oh, forgive me, I did not know we had a guest.’ She dropped a neat little curtsey and Harriet stood to shake her hand.

‘My eldest daughter, Sally,’ Christopher said by way of explanation. ‘Sally, Mrs Westerman. Believe it or not, madam, Sally is usually quite a sensible girl. My wife runs the house while my daughter manages the accounts and bills my pupils, but she has been spending a few days with a schoolfriend in the country and the fresh air has obviously turned her brain.’

Sally still looked a little flustered. ‘Papa, you are unfair.’ She smiled very sweetly at Harriet. ‘Papa would not charge anyone if he could avoid it, Mrs Westerman. He is far too soft-hearted.’ She looked at her mother. ‘Were you speaking of Guadeloupe? Of what is he innocent?’

The girl took a low seat at her father’s side and her mother fetched a cup of tea for her while she removed her bonnet. Her hair was a shock of dark copper curls that matched her complexion; her eyes were hazel. She was, Harriet thought, quite beautiful.

‘Trimnell was discovered killed on Saturday morning, Sally,’ her father said. The girl opened her lips. ‘Guadeloupe was found to have pawned his watch and is confined in Bridewell. Did you not read of it in the newspaper yesterday?’

‘Oh Papa, no,’ Sally said. ‘No, Guadeloupe never met him!’

Christopher spoke more quietly. ‘Sally?’

She swallowed and managed to say, ‘
I
gave Guadeloupe the watch, sir. I told him it was Trimnell’s and I didn’t want it.’

‘You!’ Christopher looked far more fearsome now than he had done with a sword in his hand. ‘
You?
And how did you, my daughter, come to have that man’s watch?’

‘He gave it to me, Papa. I did not want to take it, but he put it in my basket. I did not know what to do, so I gave it to Guadeloupe. I just wanted to get rid of it. I was afraid to tell you, because Trimnell stopped me in the street and I thought you’d be terribly angry, and it seemed better just to get rid of it.’ Her voice trailed away as she said this last, then she looked up at her father again, her eyes open and pleading. ‘Oh, sir! I would have told you, but then I went down to Kent with Cecelia and her family, and the ladies do not read the newspaper at her home and I was having such a nice time, I simply forgot all about him.’ She shuddered as if the memory of the man revolted her.

‘Trimnell stopped you in the street?’ Christopher spat out each word as if he was throwing a stone. Harriet thought she could see the blood swelling in his veins and recognised the rage and fear of a parent.

‘I wanted to get away, but he would not let go of my basket.’

Christopher clenched his hands. ‘If he were not dead already … Why did you not tell me at once?’

His wife sighed. ‘Why indeed, Tobias?’

Christopher sank back in his chair, fiercely silent. Harriet put down her cup. ‘Miss Christopher,
why
did he give you the watch?’

Sally looked at her father and mother. Mrs Christopher smiled encouragingly at her. Harriet thought for a few moments. ‘Had you ever seen Mr Trimnell before he gave you the watch?’

The girl spoke very quietly. ‘I saw him here. That is, he came to speak to Papa and I heard a little of their conversation as I passed the door.’

‘You were listening at key-holes,’ her father said, though the heat had gone out of his voice. He reached out and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes.

‘Yes, perhaps a little, Papa. I heard some of what was said and realised he was your old master, and I waited upstairs at the window so I might see him as he went. I didn’t have any thought of speaking to him. I just wanted to see him.’

Harriet felt her heart sink in her chest. Willoughby’s remark about Mr Trimnell finding a mulatto daughter alive in London came back to her as clearly as if it had just been spoken in her ear.