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opportunity to nurse my wounds. I spent the second night at
an inn with my companions. And here I am,' he announced, spreading his arms.
'Home again, with no harm done.'
        'I
wouldn't say that,' argued Jacob, inspecting his master's coat. 'How on earth
did you get involved with a highwayman in the first place?'
        'Because
I was reckless.'
        'That's
a kind word for it, sir.'
        'I'm
in the mood for kind words. Remember that.'
        Christopher
sat down at the table, and Jacob disappeared into the kitchen with the coat.
When he came back, he brought a glass of brandy on a tray Giving him a nod of
gratitude, Christopher took the glass and sipped its contents.
        'You
sensed my needs exactly, Jacob,' he said.
        'That's
what I'm here for, sir.'
        Jacob
Vout was the only servant at the house in Fetter Lane. As a result, the old man
had to combine the duties of cook, butler, valet and ostler, volunteering, for
no extra payment, to assume a paternal role as well from time to time. Devoted
to Christopher as a master, he occasionally treated him like an erring son and
spoke with a candour that blurred the social divisions between them.
Christopher tolerated it all with good humour. He knew that Jacob watched over
him with a mingled sense of duty and affection, and he was reminded of the way
that Susan Cheever treated her father, though he liked to think that he had
none of the truculence of Sir Julius.
        'I
dare not ask if the visit was a success,' said Jacob tentatively. 'If you were
set on by a villainous highwayman, it obviously was not.'
        'A
minor irritation, Jacob, that's all. It's out of my mind already. I've far more
pleasant things to contemplate,' he said as he thought of Susan Cheever again.
He manufactured a frown and rolled his eyes. 'But you're quite correct, Jacob.
The visit to Northamptonshire cannot, I fear, be construed as a success.'
        'Oh.
I'm disappointed to hear that.'
        Christopher
grinned. 'It was an absolute triumph!'
        'Was
it?'
        'Without
question.'
        'Congratulations,
sir!' said Jacob, rising to a smile.
        'I've
been commissioned to design a town house for Sir Julius Cheever,' he explained,
taking the parchment from his satchel. 'Here are some early sketches I made for
him. They're very rough but they give me a basis from which to work. More to
the point, Jacob,' he added shaking the satchel, 'my client insisted on giving
me an advance payment. You'll be able to fill the larder and stock the wine
cellar to your heart's content. We are solvent once more.'
        'That's
very heartening, Mr Redmayne.'
        'Indeed
if everything goes to plan, this commission could make me a man of moderate
wealth. That will be a welcome change. Most of the money I've earned so far as
an architect went to paying off old debts. I may now actually be able to save a portion of what I earn. What a novelty that will be!'
        'Indeed,
sir.'
        'This
commission could be a turning point of my career.'
        'As
long as you stay clear of highwaymen.'
        'Oh,
I will, Jacob. I give you my word. For the first time in my life, I'll actually
have something worth stealing.' He looked at the drawings. 'Apart from my
talent, that is. But it's so good to be back,' he continued, draining the glass
of brandy. 'Sir Julius was very hospitable but this is the only place where I
can work properly. I can't wait to make a start on the design for his house.'
        'You
may have to delay that pleasure for a little while, sir.'
        'Why?'
        'Because
there's an urgent request from your brother.'
        'Henry?
What does he want?'
        'He
wouldn't tell me,' said Jacob, exploring an ear with his finger, 'but, from his
manner, I think that I can guess what brought him here.'
        'Was
he in a pit of misery or a state of elation?'
        'Neither,
sir.'
        'Strange.
Henry seems to shuttle continually