pretty, but she possessed a strength
of character and an independence of thought that he had found attractive. They had married before they really knew each other,
but it had not taken them long to learn that each possessed habits the other did not like. Chaloner disapproved of the company
Hannah kept at Court and was appalled by her surly morning temper; Hannah deplored Chaloner’s inability to express his feelings
and hated the sound of his bass viol.
Music was important to Chaloner. It soothed him when he was agitated, cleared his mind when he was dealing with complex cases,
and there was little that delighted him more than a well-played recital. He could not imagine a world without it, and felt
incomplete when deprived of it for any length of time. Unfortunately, Hannah did not like him playing in the house, and ignoring
her and doing it anyway negated any enjoymenthe might have gained from the exercise. As far as he was concerned, it was a serious impediment to their future happiness
together.
His frustration with the situation had led him to rent a garret in Long Acre the previous week. All spies kept boltholes for
those occasions when returning home was inadvisable, but Chaloner needed one for the sake of his sanity, too. He had taken
his best viol, or viola da gamba, there immediately, along with the clothes Hannah had parcelled up for the rag-pickers –
she also hated the fact that his work meant he was sometimes obliged to dress in something other than courtly finery. His
second-best viol was stored in a cupboard under the stairs, and was only played when she was out.
‘I am just leaving,’ he whispered. ‘Go back to sleep.’
‘Leaving?’ Hannah cast a bleary eye towards the window. ‘In the middle of the night?’
‘It is nearly dawn.’
‘Exactly! Dawn is the middle of the night. Come back to bed, or you will wake the servants.’
The servants were yet another bone of contention. Chaloner accepted that his post as gentleman usher and Hannah’s as lady-in-waiting
demanded that they keep one, but he had returned from Tangier to find she had hired three. None were women he would have chosen,
because they were brazenly curious about their employers, and watched them constantly. Even if he had not been a spy, obliged
to keep a certain number of secrets, being under constant surveillance in his own home would have been an unwelcome development.
‘I will not wake them,’ he said, wishing he had abstained from reckless displays of affection and that she was still asleep.
‘But you might, if you continue to bawl.’
‘Do not tell me when I can and cannot speak,’ snapped Hannah, displaying the sour temper that invariably afflicted her when
she first awoke. It was so unlike her personality during the rest of the day that he wondered whether he should take her to
a physician. ‘I shall shout if I want to.’
He sat on the side of the bed and took her hand in his, speaking softly in the hope that it would soothe her back to sleep.
‘I am sorry I disturbed you.’
‘You are improperly dressed again,’ said Hannah, wrenching her hand free and struggling into a sitting position. ‘That old
long-coat is not fit for a beggar, while your shirt does not have enough lace. People will think I married a ruffian if you
go to White Hall looking like that.’
‘You did marry a ruffian. The Earl said so only yesterday.’
That coaxed a reluctant smile. ‘Then I retract my words, because I refuse to agree with anything that pompous old relic says.’
Although the Earl was fond of Hannah, the affection was not reciprocated, partly because he disapproved of most of her friends,
and partly because she disliked the fact that he kept sending her husband into dangerous situations. She also objected to
the fact that Chaloner spent more time away from London than in it – since being employed by the Earl, he had been sent to
Ireland, Spain and Portugal, Oxford,