Free The Piccadilly Plot by Susanna Gregory Page A

remember that the most important one is catching the villains who keep raiding
     my house.’
    ‘No, most important is the plot involving the Queen and Pratt,’ countered Frances. ‘I do not want our architect murdered by
     an assassin. Or the poor Queen held responsible for it.’
    ‘He will give all three equal attention,’ said the Earl, although the tone of his voice made it clear that there would be
     trouble if his own concerns were not given priority. Chaloner bowed again, thinking unhappily that none of the enquiries filled
     him with great enthusiasm, and he would be lucky if he solved one of them to the Earl’s satisfaction.
    In the corridor outside, the Earl’s retainers were waiting to escort him to his meeting. His seal bearer stood ready to lead
     the way, and his secretary and gentlemen ushers had lined up to process behind him. All wore his livery of blue and gold,
     and made for an imposing sight.
    ‘You cannot join us, Chaloner,’ said the Earl, looking pointedly at the spy’s soiled and crumpled clothing. ‘So you may escort
     my wife home instead.’
    ‘Not yet, though,’ said Frances. ‘I should like to see the great lords of the Tangier Committee make their appearance. I adore
     a spectacle.’
    But she was to be disappointed. Her husband was the only man who stood on ceremony, and the other members arrived in a far
     more modest fashion. Most had not even bothered to don wigs, and badly shaven heads were the order of the day.
    One person had taken care to look his best, however.He was Samuel Pepys, an ambitious clerk from the Navy Board. Because Chaloner was standing with Lady Clarendon, Pepys deigned
     to acknowledge him, although his eyes widened in shock at the spy’s dishevelled appearance.
    ‘Tangier’s residents say Teviot was the best of all their governors,’ he was informing the man at his side. ‘But to my mind,
     he was a cunning fellow.’
    ‘He died gallantly, though,’ replied his friend. ‘But never mind him. Tell me why you object to paying what Governor Bridge
     has demanded for the mole.’
    ‘Because of the casual way he presents his expenses,’ explained Pepys. ‘We should demand a better reckoning. Lord! How I was
     troubled to see accounts of ten thousand pounds passed with so little question the last time the Committee met. I wished a
     thousand times that I had not been there.’
    ‘Perhaps my husband was right to ask you to look into Teviot’s death,’ said Frances, after Pepys and his companion had entered
     the building. ‘If such vast sums really are being sent to Tangier with so little accounting, then it will be easy for the
     unscrupulous to line their pockets. And to some villains, five hundred lives is a small price to pay for personal profit.’
    ‘If so, then I shall do all I can to avenge them,’ promised Chaloner.
    ‘But not today,’ said Frances kindly. ‘You were only married a month before sailing to Tangier, and you have been desperately
     busy since you returned. Spend the rest of the day with Hannah.’
    Chaloner woke before it was light the next morning, aware that he had a great deal to do. He lay still for amoment, working out a plan of action, and decided that he would begin by hunting down Harley, Newell and Reyner, on the grounds
     that the deaths of so many soldiers was a rather more serious matter than missing planks and the lunatic letter about Pratt.
    He was not sure what time Hannah had returned from her duties with the Queen the previous night, but she did not stir as he
     slipped out of bed and dressed in the dim light of the candle she had forgotten to extinguish before she had retired. He bent
     to kiss her as he left, but she chose that moment to fling out an arm, catching him on the shoulder. With a squawk of pain,
     her eyes flew open.
    ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, wringing her knuckles and eyeing him accusingly.
    She was a small, fair-haired lady with a pert figure and an impish grin. She was not