‘James Grey.’ Her hand went to her bodice, where a square of red silk had been tucked down the front of it, clearly a love token. ‘He plays the viol, which should commend him to you. You can bring yours, and we shall have music.’
Then perhaps the occasion would not be so bad after all, thought Chaloner, watching as Temperance reached up to the mantelpiece and took down a pipe. She had only recently acquired the habit when he had last seen her, but a few weeks had turned her into a seasoned smoker — her movements were deft and confident as she tamped the bowl with tobacco. When it was lit, and she was encased in a billowing haze, she regarded him reproachfully.
‘You know you are always welcome here, Tom, but only if you agree not to insult my guests. They are volatile at the best of times, and I cannot afford to have you challenging them to duels.’
‘Chiffinch challenged me,’ Chaloner pointed out. ‘All I did was defend his wife.’
‘They insult their wives all the time, but it means nothing. They come here to forget them, and on the whole, I do not blame them. Barbara Chiffinch is a sharp-tongued shrew with no sense of humour.’
‘She has an excellent sense of humour, despite being married to that worthless dog for forty years.’
‘You and I always disagree these days,’ said Temperance sadly. ‘You never used to be like this. You have changed, and I am glad I did not marry you.’
Gallantly, Chaloner resisted the urge to say he had never considered asking her — and now he had seen what she had become, he was heartily glad of it. ‘It is you who have changed. A year ago, you were spending half your life in chapel, and the other half helping the poor.’
‘And I was deeply unhappy,’ she shot back. ‘Whereas now I run my own business, I am rich beyond my wildest dreams, James loves me, and I have a glut of wealthy and influential companions.’
‘Chiffinch and Brodrick are fair-weather friends,’ warned Chaloner, not liking the notion that she might think them dependable. When all was said and done, Temperance was barely twenty, and her strict Puritan upbringing meant she had little experience of the world. ‘If there is a popular uprising against debauchery and vice — and it could happen, because Londoners deplore the Court’s profligacy — they will not help you when your house is attacked.’
Temperance puffed smoke through rouged lips. ‘That will not happen — the King will not let it, and I have James to protect me, anyway. You are beginning to sound like Thurloe — a tedious old misery.’
‘I should go,’ said Chaloner, standing abruptly. Thurloe had been good to Temperance after her parents had died, and he was sorry she had forgotten his kindness so soon. ‘I only came to ask after your health.’
‘I am well — it is you who is testy. Let me provide you with a lady, to put you in better spirits, so we can have a civilised conversation. You can have Snowflake. She knows how to make a man smile.’
‘I am sure she does,’ replied Chaloner coolly, ‘but I did not come to inveigle a …’ He waved his hand, not sure what was the correct term for an offer of a free whore. ‘I came to see you.’
Temperance smiled at last. ‘Then we should set aside our differences and talk. Sit down and have some coffee. Maude made it.’
Chaloner took a sip of the black brew, then fought the urge to spit it out. It was the most powerful thing he had ever tasted, so thick it was more syrup than beverage. Maude had a reputation for potent infusions, but this one was hearty, even by her standards. There was a rumour that her first husband had died from drinking her coffee, and Chaloner was perfectly willing to believe it.
‘Christ, Temperance!’ he managed eventually. ‘Who taught her to make this? The Devil?’
Temperance laughed. ‘Have some more. You will soon acquire a taste for it.’
But Chaloner did not want to acquire a taste for it. He pushed the dish aside, then shook his head when she offered him a pipe.
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Shall I warm you some milk, then?’
‘You have made some improvements to your parlour since I was last here,’ he said, deciding he had better bring the conversation around to statues before they fell out in earnest.
She grinned. ‘James suggested we commission Brodrick to purchase us a few masterpieces. We must have the best, because our patrons will notice if we opt for rubbish. And Brodrick may be an old reprobate, but he does know his way around an art gallery.’
‘He does,’ agreed Chaloner. ‘But he also throws food about when he has had too much to drink. I hope he and his cronies do not damage anything irreplaceable.’
‘That is why we decided to go for statues — Apollo was hit by a pineapple last night, but he suffered no ill effects whatsoever. I do not like sculpture, personally. Most of it seems to revolve around smug Roman emperors and fat Greek goddesses toting unlikely weapons.’
Chaloner made no comment, although he found himself thinking, rather uncharitably, that she had recently grown a lot more portly than any Greek goddess.
‘But I got Brodrick to buy extras, so I can rotate them,’ she went on. ‘I do not want to be looking at the same stony visages every night for the next fifty years. The spares are in the cellar, and I gave myself such a fright the other day. You would have laughed! I went down there for wine, and glanced up to find Nero staring at me. I screamed so loud that Preacher Hill came racing to my rescue.’
‘Who is the artist?’
Temperance frowned. ‘Do you mean who crafted my Nero? Some Italian, I think. Why?’
‘I wondered whether it was Bernini.’
‘I do not approve of him. Did you know he is a Swedish hermaphrodite, who likes rope-dancing and hedgehogs?’ There was a slight pause. ‘What is a hermaphrodite, Tom? I do not like to ask James, lest he think me ignorant.’
‘He will not think you ignorant. Are those the only reasons you do not like Bernini?’
Temperance shot him a sideways glance. ‘Are these questions anything to do with the King’s missing statue?’
‘I heard you made enquiries about Bernini before his masterpiece was stolen.’
She gaped at him. ‘You heard it from whom?’
‘It does not matter. But your discussion was overheard, and your courtly friends cannot keep secrets. So take warning and be careful what you say in future. But why did you ask about the sculpture?’
‘People were talking about it, and as I had been buying statues of my own, I had an interest. I asked Chiffinch what was so special about Bernini.’
Chaloner regarded her sadly. ‘You would lie to me?’
‘Why not, when you lie to me?’ Temperance flashed back. ‘You pump me for information, but seldom give anything in return. And you did not really come to see me tonight — you came because of an investigation. Admit it! Well, I am not telling you what prompted my interest in Bernini. You will have to find out another way.’
‘Temperance, I-’
‘Go home, Thomas. You presume too much on our friendship.’
Chapter 9
The spat with Temperance had upset Chaloner, and he did not feel like sleeping alone in his chilly garret, so he went to visit Hannah. She had only just returned home, and was so angry that she could barely form the words to tell him why. Apparently, the Queen had been invited to a ball that evening, and had been delighted to think she was included in a Court occasion at last. She had spent all day preparing, taking care not only with her dress, but also to learn new English phrases that she hoped would impress her hosts. But when she arrived at the Banqueting House, where the dance was to take place, she found it closed. Moreover, there was not a courtier to be found in the entire palace.
‘My first thought was that it was the Lord of Misrule,’ spat Hannah furiously. ‘And a few enquiries revealed that Brodrick has declared White Hall off-limits to anyone who does not want to be doused in green paint tonight. But it was heartless to raise the Queen’s hopes with a gesture of friendship, only to dash them so pitilessly, and I do not think Brodrick is that low.’