Lady Vengeance by Melinda Hammond Page B

but nothing yet that would convict him of treason – and I want him brought to justice.’
     Davenham glanced curiously at his father.
     ‘I wish you would tell me why it is that you have such an aversion to the marquis.’
     ‘My own devotion to the King, naturally.’
     ‘Pray do not try to fob me off, sir!’ retorted Davenham, ‘at some point in the dark and distant past Thurleigh has crossed you. What was it, a woman?’
     The earl looked pained. He said quietly: ‘I wish you would get it out of your head that every quarrel arises from an affaire du coeur . No, this is a much simpler matter. Murder.’
     ‘Pray continue, sir.’
     ‘There is little to tell. Some years ago it came to my notice that a gentleman of my acquaintance had been killed in a duel with my lord Thurleigh.’
     ‘That is not murder, sir.’
     ‘I am aware of that, my son. Under normal circumstances, I would have mourned my friend’s passing, and left the matter there, but circumstances were very far from normal. My friend was a peaceful man, a scholar, in fact, with little interest and even less skill in the art of duello . The fact that he could be persuaded to fight at all argues great provocation, and when I learned the identity of his opponent and that the duel was conducted in the tap-room of a country inn, my suspicions were aroused. I made enquiries, but had little success. Thurleigh’s associates could not be brought to speak of the matter, and when I travelled to the inn where the event took place I found that the landlord had already quit the area, and since the marquis is Lord-Lieutenant of that particular county, I could find no-one willing to talk to me.’
     ‘I agree, sir, it sounds most suspicious. Have you no idea why Thurleigh should wish to murder the fellow?’
     ‘No, none. As I have told you, the man was a scholar. He had no interest in affairs of state, or struggles for power. Indeed, the last I heard of him before he was killed he was living quite retired.’
     ‘Had he no family?’
     ‘Yes. A wife and one child, a daughter. My enquiries concerning their welfare met with no success. The cottage what was their home is now a ruin; apparently it was burned down soon after the death of my friend, and his family have vanished.’
     ‘Done to death by the villain of this tale, I shouldn’t wonder.’
     ‘Or fled for their lives.’
     ‘I never did like Thurleigh,’ remarked the viscount, ‘but I always considered him eccentric rather than dangerous.’
     ‘You should not underestimate the man,’ the earl told him. ‘He is very clever: there is nothing to connect him with any plot against the monarchy, yet I know he was responsible for at least two of them – for example, were you aware that Charles Stuart was smuggled into England a few years ago, to be received into the Anglican Church? And doubtless, Thurleigh has had a hand in other plots, too.’
     ‘But if you have had so little success in catching him, why do you suppose that I will do better?’
     ‘Because, my son, time is running out for the Stuart cause. James is growing old, his son Henry is now a Cardinal in the Church of Rome and Charles is drinking himself into his grave. Thurleigh must know that if his plans are to succeed, an attempt will need to be made soon. Thus he sent Poyntz to Rome. What he will not have foreseen, I trust, is that his followers are not so eager for the game. You said yourself that Poyntz was ready to give it all up. If Thurleigh cannot rely on his minions, he will be forced to show his hand.’ Lord Hartworth gave a slight cough. ‘Much as I would like to deal with Thurleigh, my advanced years make me too slow for such work.’
     ‘And you would like me to complete the task?’
     ‘I would like him brought to trial.’
     ‘Then I think I had best see out George Rowsell,’ said the viscount, pensively. ‘He was always a good friend to Poyntz. If there was another plot afoot, you may be sure