Yet he resented the fact that such deception was necessary, feeling he had fought a series of wars to end such dictates. The injustice of the situation gnawed at him as he walked to Worcester House — exacerbated by his irritation with Hannah, George and Susan — so that by the time he arrived to ask the Earl whether Meneses had been Governor of Tangier, he was in a black mood.
He stalked past the guards and rapped on the study door with considerable force. It was opened cautiously by Edgeman, who sighed his relief when he recognised the visitor.
‘It is all right,’ the secretary called over his shoulder. ‘It is only Chaloner.’
‘It was such an imperious knock that I thought it was Parliament come to impeach me,’ said the Earl, putting his hand on his chest to indicate he had been given a fright. He was sitting by the fire, and Oliver and Dugdale were standing to attention in front of him.
‘It is unbecoming for an usher to pound on his master’s doors,’ admonished Dugdale. He looked seedy that morning, so his rebuke lacked the venom it would usually carry. ‘You made us all jump.’
‘My apologies,’ said Chaloner insincerely. He glanced at Oliver, thinking he had never seen the assistant architect in Worcester House before. It was the Earl who explained.
‘Pratt has gone to view the Collection of Curiosities that is the talk of all London, so Oliver has come to give me my daily report instead.’
‘The Earl refers to the exhibition near St Paul’s Cathedral,’ Oliver elaborated, although Chaloner recalled Farr telling him about it and reading the advertisment for it in the newsbook, so needed no explanation. An expression of gloom settled over the assistant architect’s long face as he continued. ‘And everyone who is anyone will be there today. Except me — I am the only man in the city who is not invited.’
‘That is untrue,’ said the Earl kindly. ‘I have not been asked to attend, and neither has anyone else from my household.’
Dugdale and Edgeman exchanged a smug glance that said he was wrong.
‘The rich and the famous,’ Oliver went on morosely. ‘Earls, barons and fêted merchants. Great people like Leighton, O’Brien, Kitty, Meneses and Brodrick. And Pratt, of course. But I shall be at Clarendon House, dusting banisters before the labourers return to work tomorrow.’
‘Being in Clarendon House is not that bad,’ objected the Earl, offended. ‘It is a fine place to spend a Sunday morning. Indeed, I shall be there myself in an hour.’
Oliver brightened. ‘Will you, sir? Some company would be nice.’
‘I shall bring a jug of wine, and you can show me around,’ elaborated the Earl graciously. Oliver cracked what was almost a smile. ‘So go and make everything ready. My wife and I will join you as soon as she is ready. We are expected at church this morning, but we shall attend this afternoon, instead. No sacrifice is too great where my house is concerned.’
‘You should not have yielded, sir,’ chided Dugdale, after Oliver had shuffled out. ‘It is not your responsibility to create a merry workforce. I never make any concessions in that direction myself. Indeed, I keep my ushers in line by ensuring that they are as unhappy as I can possibly make them.’
He had certainly done that, thought Chaloner, watching the Earl’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the bald confession. Dugdale started to add something else, but the Earl flapped a pudgy hand to indicate he should leave. The Chief Usher grimaced his indignation at the curt dismissal, and the bow he gave as he left was shallow enough to be impertinent. Edgeman scurried after him.
‘Well?’ asked the Earl, when the door had closed. ‘Who is stealing my bricks? And have you identified the villain who wants to kill Pratt? You are fast running out of time.’
Chaloner did not need to be told. ‘I have uncovered a lot of connections between the cases,’ he hedged. ‘And Williamson is worried about what will happen if the plot to harm the Queen succeeds — concerned for our future relations with Portugal.’
‘It would be awkward, to say the least. Moreover, I do not want Pratt to die before he has finished my home. Are you sure you saw the thieves yesterday? Henry thinks you were mistaken.’
‘Of course I saw them.’
‘There is no need to snap,’ said the Earl sharply. ‘I believe you. It is a wretched shame you did not catch them, though. Was there anything that might allow you to identify them?’
‘They were disguised.’ Chaloner moved to what he considered more important matters. ‘I need some information, sir: the names of the last Portuguese governors of Tangier.’
The Earl regarded him askance. ‘What an odd request! But it is one I can grant, as it happens. The fellow with whom I had most correspondence — as I negotiated that part of the Queen’s dowry — was Fernando de Meneses. He was later dismissed for dishonesty.’
‘What does he look like?’
‘I never met him. However, I imagine he looks Portuguese.’
It was not helpful, and left Chaloner none the wiser as to whether the Queen’s new friend was an impostor. Of course, if Meneses stood accused of corruption, and so was unable to secure a post at home, then perhaps he had come to London to try his luck with a countrywoman who might not have heard of his shortcomings.
‘I am glad you came,’ said the Earl, when there was no response. ‘Because I want you to spend the afternoon at Clarendon House. It is the workmen’s day off, so it needs guarding. Frances and I will be there this morning. You can take over at two o’clock, and stay until Wright arrives at dusk.’
Chaloner struggled to control his temper. ‘I thought you wanted me to catch the brick-thief, expose the plot to kill Pratt, and find out what happened to Teviot. All before Wednesday. How am I supposed to do that when-’
‘You have had days to make enquiries,’ snapped the Earl. ‘It is not my fault you wasted them.’
‘I have not wasted them,’ countered Chaloner in something of a snarl. ‘You ordered me to Woolwich and the Tennis Court, both of which were stupid, futile exercises.’
‘You go too far!’ cried the Earl, shocked. ‘Perhaps Henry is right, and I should dismiss you in favour of someone more amenable. Or at least, someone who does not rail at me.’
Chaloner took a deep breath, knowing he had over-stepped the mark. He was also aware that it would not have happened if he had not been troubled by his home life and its attendant problems.
‘I am sorry, sir. But something deadly is planned for three days’ time, and we need to discover the identity of the man who is giving Fitzgerald orders before it is too late. It may involve Pratt, and-’
‘Then you can do it this morning and tonight,’ said the Earl, unappeased. ‘Protecting my new home is far more important than rumours of vague plots. It is the reason I brought you home from Tangier, after all. This is not negotiable, Chaloner. You will do as I say.’
Chaloner had no choice but to agree. His temper was even blacker as he bowed and took his leave. As he hauled open the door, Kipps tumbled inside. The Seal Bearer’s expression was distinctly furtive.
‘I was not eavesdropping,’ he blustered. ‘I just wanted to know if you had finished.’
‘Yes,’ said Chaloner brusquely. ‘He is all yours now.’
He walked to Chancery Lane Inn amid a cacophony of bells, as churches advertised their Sunday rites. The roads were full of people flocking towards them, along with those street vendors who declined to acknowledge that there were laws prohibiting Sabbath trading, and sought to provide for those who had time and money to spare. Other services had finished, disgorging congregations into the streets, while still more were in progress, so that singing drifted through their windows.
Chaloner reached Lincoln’s Inn and ran up the stairs to Chamber XIII.