Shadow of the Hangman(10)

‘Viscount Sidmouth is not searching for a mistress,’ he said. ‘I know him well and I can vouch for the marital harmony he enjoys. No, the woman for whom I must search is the servant who cleans the Home Office. She has inexplicably disappeared.’

‘Oh, I see. I spoke too soon.’

Even when her face was puckered into an apology, Charlotte Skillen remained a beautiful young woman. Slim, shapely and of medium height, she had fair hair artfully arranged in curls. The colour of her morning dress matched her delicate complexion. Her husband kissed her gently on the forehead.

‘It was my fault for phrasing the request in the way that I did.’

‘You should still refuse this assignment.’

‘On what grounds could I possibly do that?’

‘Some paltry excuse will do for the Home Secretary,’ she said, airily. ‘The real reason you must turn his appeal down is that it’s beneath you. It is, Peter,’ she added before he could protest. ‘You and Paul have just caught one of the worst criminals in the city. It was an achievement worthy of your talents. Viscount Sidmouth must have a host of minions at his beck and call. Let one of them chase after this missing cleaner.’

‘Her name is Anne Horner.’

‘I don’t care what she is called.’

‘Supposing that it had been Moll Rooke?’

Charlotte was taken aback. ‘She’s one of our servants.’

‘How would you feel if Moll suddenly vanished into thin air? Would you stop me searching for her because it was too lowly a chore for me?’

‘No – of course not!’ she returned. ‘What an absurd question! Moll is a dear woman who has served us faithfully since we were married. I’d not only urge you to find her, I’d join the hunt myself.’

‘The Home Secretary obviously has equal regard for Mrs Horner. His letter talks of her loyalty and reliability. His fear is that something untoward has occurred. Not to put too fine a point on it, my love,’ he went on, ‘he cares for her safety and I find that admirable.’

She lowered her head. ‘I am rightly chastised, Peter.’ She looked up at him with a smile of apology. ‘Do you forgive me?’

‘There’s nothing to forgive, Charlotte.’

‘You must answer this summons. Will you ask Paul to help you?’

‘No, my love,’ he said, ‘I fancy that I can handle this on my own. Besides, my brother will be too preoccupied. With money in his purse, he can’t wait to spend it.’





The Theatre Royal in the Haymarket was packed to capacity that evening for a revival of Thomas Otway’s tragedy, Venice Preserv’d. It was given a spirited performance by an excellent cast but few of the men in the audience noticed the finer points of the verse drama or the striking set designs and costumes. Their attention was fixed on the sublime actress who played the part of Belvidera, the daughter of a Venetian senator, caught up in political machinations over which she has no control and who dies broken-hearted at the end of the play. In the leading role, Hannah Granville wrung every ounce of pathos out of it and reduced many of the female spectators to tears. The men were equally captivated but it was her melodic voice, her lithe body, her exquisite loveliness and, above all else, her extraordinary vivacity that aroused their interest

The thunderous applause that greeted the curtain call went on for an age. Male spectators unaccompanied by wives or mistresses flocked to the stage door, ready to offer Hannah all kinds of blandishments. Because she kept them waiting, the expectation built until it almost reached bursting point. Then she appeared. Framed in the doorway, she distributed a broad smile among her admirers and lapped up their praise while pretending not to hear their competing propositions.

A man’s voice suddenly rose above the hubbub.

‘Stand aside, gentlemen! Miss Granville wishes to depart.’

The crowd swung round in surprise to see an elegant figure standing behind them with his hat raised in greeting. Feeling deprived and disappointed, the suitors moved reluctantly aside so that Hannah could sweep past them and receive a kiss from the newcomer. There was a collective gasp of envy.

Paul Skillen enjoyed his moment to the full before giving a dismissive wave to the throng. Then he offered his arm to the actress and spirited her off into the night.





CHAPTER FIVE




‘Why didn’t we head straight for Plymouth?’ complained Moses Dagg.

‘That would’ve been dangerous.’

‘It’s so much closer, Tom.’

‘Yes, but it’s also the first place they’d have gone. Soldiers on horseback can move much faster than we can on foot. They’ll have warned all the ports to be on the lookout for us. That’s why we had to find somewhere else.’