Read Online The King's Chameleon by Richard Woodman - Free Book Online Page A

Faulkner’s ale than was good for them. Knowing that she would speak of their visitor later when they retired, Faulkner decided not to talk to Judith or to pursue Hannah and tease her on account of Albemarle’s flirting; instead he walked down to the counting-house in anticipation of finding Gooding where he had been left on their way back from Blackwall.
    He found Gooding ensconced with Captain John Lamont, a Scots master with whom Gooding had insisted they went into a partnership. Lamont owned a small bilander upon which he wished to raise a mortgage in order to marry. It was a matter of a few hundred pounds, and Faulkner had warned that with the fitting-out of the
Wapping
imminent, they ought not to over-reach themselves. The matter had raised the temperature between them and had been decided by Judith, who bought into the venture, so that in the end Faulkner had withdrawn his objection. Nevertheless, he considered Gooding owed him a favour.
    â€˜What did My Lord Duke of Albemarle want of you?’ Gooding asked with an air of mild sarcasm.
    â€˜I am to be presented at Court.’
    Gooding stared, open-mouthed.
    â€˜You will catch flies, Nathan,’ Faulkner remarked.
    â€˜I wish that you were not,’ Gooding said.
    â€˜It is a royal command,’ Faulkner said shortly, dismissing Gooding’s apprehensions. ‘But I have had a further thought. I conceive it to be a good idea if we call our new ship “Albemarle” …’
    Later, when Faulkner and his wife retired for the night, Judith addressed the problem of the morrow. ‘I wish you had not agreed to attend Court,’ she said curtly. ‘You had said you would lie low and attend to our own affairs, not meddle with the high-born who return from exile only to pretend nothing has happened these last ten years.’
    Faulkner suppressed his exasperation. ‘I am commanded by the Duke of Albemarle, Judith. He speaks for the King; what would you have me do – spit in Albemarle’s eye and tell him to inform the King that I am indisposed?’
    â€˜The King would be none the wiser …’
    â€˜Indeed not,’ Faulkner said, taking the wig from his head, placing it on its stand and scratching his pate. ‘He would simply summon me the instant I was on my feet again. And what do you suppose might be the consequences of his learning that only this morning I was discussing a new ship with Sir Henry Johnson? I would say that at the very least His Majesty—’
    â€˜
His Majesty
!’ Judith spat the words from her like a foul oath, letting her hair down and turning on him so that she made him think of a harpy. ‘And as for the noble Duke of Albemarle, he is a triple turncoat, unless, of course, I have lost count. It is a wonder which of you is the greater chameleon.’
    â€˜Oh, Judith, desist and give way,’ he said wearily, kicking off his shoes and fearing the direction the conversation was taking. ‘Thou knowest times have changed and we must change with them.’
    â€˜No, the
King
does not acknowledge that; he counts his reign from the death of his father … Where are you going?’
    â€˜Somewhere far from the owl screech that I am subject to.’
    Faulkner took his candle up to the attic and unlocked his private room. Through the thin wall he could hear the low and even snore of their kitchen-maid. He sat and stared about him, much as he had done a week or so earlier when he had summoned Henry. He saw the smear of his finger where it had dragged through the rust on his corroding cuirass and encircled the dent driven in by the Dutch ball that had only partially been knocked out.
    â€˜I should black that,’ he mused to himself. ‘God knows but I might yet require it if old George is right about the Dutch. And if he is,’ he added thinking of Judith, ‘
that
would not distress me too much, either.’
    Then his eye fell on the portmanteau, and