Read Online Death in St James's Park by Susanna Gregory - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susanna Gregory
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madam?’ asked Chiffinch archly.
‘I can tell a good man from a rogue,’ declared Kate, glaring first at Chiffinch and then Chaloner in a way that said she thought they might well belong to the latter category. ‘I can distinguish between Papists and Anglicans at a glance, too. I would certainly not have any of
them
working in the Post Office.’
‘Any of whom?’ asked Chaloner, bemused. ‘Catholics or Protestants?’
‘Pope lovers,’ hissed Kate, eyes glittering. ‘They are an evil force in our country, and I applaud the laws that suppress them. I only wish we could burn them at the stake, too, because that would make them think twice about plotting against us.’
Chaloner had no particular religious affiliation, but Hannah did, and he objected to her being insulted in her own home. ‘There is no Catholic plot to—’
‘There are dozens of them.’ O’Neillcut across him sharply. ‘And anyone who does not believe it is a fool. Bishop is Catholic, of course, which is why he tried to ruin the Post Office – as a covert act of treason.’ He turned crossly to his wife. ‘And the Post Office
is
profitable. I make princely sums every week, and the King was very kind to haveappointed me to such a lucrative position. I deserved it, of course. There was no one more loyal than me when he was in exile.’
Kate was about to reply when the door opened, and another guest arrived. Chaloner did not know him, although an immediate chorus of impressed coos suggested that everyone else did. The newcomer minced into the room waving a lace handkerchief and wearing a silk suit so tight that it had to be uncomfortable. His face was smeared in white paste, and his red-dyed lips and cheeks were stark against it. Much was explained when the language of the gathering immediately switched to French for his benefit – London fashions were outrageous, but Paris had contrived to take them to new levels of absurdity.
‘Monsieur le Notre,’ gushed Hannah, hurrying to greet him. ‘I am so pleased you could come.’
‘He is a landscape architect,’ explained Kate in an undertone, seeing Chaloner’s mystification. ‘Hired to design stunning new gardens at the palace that is currently being built at Versailles. However,
our
King has invited him to London first, to see what can be done about St James’s Park. It is a coup for Hannah to claim le Notre as a guest.’
‘What is wrong with St James’s Park?’ asked Chaloner, a little indignantly.
Katherine regarded him pityingly. ‘Well, nothing, if you like boring swathes of grass.’
‘Perhaps we can dispense with those dreadful birds, too,’ added O’Neill. ‘They make a terrible mess by the Canal, and I dislike their raucous honking. They should all be shot.’
‘Three of them were killed recently,’ said Chaloner, wondering whetherthe Controller and his wife were responsible. They certainly seemed unpleasant enough.
‘We heard,’ said Kate. ‘The King is vexed, and Clarendon has promised him a culprit. Foolish man! The villain will never be caught – he will be long gone by now. Ah, Monsieur le Notre. How lovely to meet you.’
Finding himself alone, Chaloner stepped into the hallway for a respite. Wafts of conversation drifted towards him. Mary Wood’s death was one of the main topics, along with speculation as to whether it would lead her husband to lose what scant wits he still possessed. There was also a lot of discussion about the Post Office explosion, and it was generally agreed that supporters of Parliament were responsible.
‘There is a rumour that John Fry is in the city,’ O’Neill was informing a group of horrified listeners. ‘Fomenting a rebellion that will destroy the monarchy for ever. It will begin with the assassination of a famous person, apparently. I sincerely hope
I
am not the intended victim.’
‘But John Fry is dead,’ said Hannah, puzzled. ‘Eight years ago. It was in the newsbooks.’
‘The newsbooks!’ spat Kate.
‘I can tell a good man from a rogue,’ declared Kate, glaring first at Chiffinch and then Chaloner in a way that said she thought they might well belong to the latter category. ‘I can distinguish between Papists and Anglicans at a glance, too. I would certainly not have any of
them
working in the Post Office.’
‘Any of whom?’ asked Chaloner, bemused. ‘Catholics or Protestants?’
‘Pope lovers,’ hissed Kate, eyes glittering. ‘They are an evil force in our country, and I applaud the laws that suppress them. I only wish we could burn them at the stake, too, because that would make them think twice about plotting against us.’
Chaloner had no particular religious affiliation, but Hannah did, and he objected to her being insulted in her own home. ‘There is no Catholic plot to—’
‘There are dozens of them.’ O’Neillcut across him sharply. ‘And anyone who does not believe it is a fool. Bishop is Catholic, of course, which is why he tried to ruin the Post Office – as a covert act of treason.’ He turned crossly to his wife. ‘And the Post Office
is
profitable. I make princely sums every week, and the King was very kind to haveappointed me to such a lucrative position. I deserved it, of course. There was no one more loyal than me when he was in exile.’
Kate was about to reply when the door opened, and another guest arrived. Chaloner did not know him, although an immediate chorus of impressed coos suggested that everyone else did. The newcomer minced into the room waving a lace handkerchief and wearing a silk suit so tight that it had to be uncomfortable. His face was smeared in white paste, and his red-dyed lips and cheeks were stark against it. Much was explained when the language of the gathering immediately switched to French for his benefit – London fashions were outrageous, but Paris had contrived to take them to new levels of absurdity.
‘Monsieur le Notre,’ gushed Hannah, hurrying to greet him. ‘I am so pleased you could come.’
‘He is a landscape architect,’ explained Kate in an undertone, seeing Chaloner’s mystification. ‘Hired to design stunning new gardens at the palace that is currently being built at Versailles. However,
our
King has invited him to London first, to see what can be done about St James’s Park. It is a coup for Hannah to claim le Notre as a guest.’
‘What is wrong with St James’s Park?’ asked Chaloner, a little indignantly.
Katherine regarded him pityingly. ‘Well, nothing, if you like boring swathes of grass.’
‘Perhaps we can dispense with those dreadful birds, too,’ added O’Neill. ‘They make a terrible mess by the Canal, and I dislike their raucous honking. They should all be shot.’
‘Three of them were killed recently,’ said Chaloner, wondering whetherthe Controller and his wife were responsible. They certainly seemed unpleasant enough.
‘We heard,’ said Kate. ‘The King is vexed, and Clarendon has promised him a culprit. Foolish man! The villain will never be caught – he will be long gone by now. Ah, Monsieur le Notre. How lovely to meet you.’
Finding himself alone, Chaloner stepped into the hallway for a respite. Wafts of conversation drifted towards him. Mary Wood’s death was one of the main topics, along with speculation as to whether it would lead her husband to lose what scant wits he still possessed. There was also a lot of discussion about the Post Office explosion, and it was generally agreed that supporters of Parliament were responsible.
‘There is a rumour that John Fry is in the city,’ O’Neill was informing a group of horrified listeners. ‘Fomenting a rebellion that will destroy the monarchy for ever. It will begin with the assassination of a famous person, apparently. I sincerely hope
I
am not the intended victim.’
‘But John Fry is dead,’ said Hannah, puzzled. ‘Eight years ago. It was in the newsbooks.’
‘The newsbooks!’ spat Kate.
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