The Piccadilly Plot by Susanna Gregory

mind. Fortunately, prudence prevailed, so he said nothing.
    ‘Enter,’ ordered Hyde, with an unwelcoming scowl. ‘With your blade
inside
its scabbard, if you would be so kind. We have been expecting you these last two hours.’
    As usual, the office had been heated to suffocation point – the Earl believed cold air was bad for his gout, and always kept
     the chamber wickedly hot. For once, Chaloner did not mind, although he was disconcerted when his clothes began to steam.
    ‘Have you discovered who is stealing my father’s bricks?’ asked Hyde in an undertone, catching the spy’s arm to hold him back
     for a moment. ‘Personally, I think he is overreacting. Anyone who builds a house in London should expect a few items to go
     missing. It is the natural order of things.’
    ‘Yes and no,’ argued Chaloner. ‘There is a big difference between “a few items going missing” and the regular and sustained
     pilfering of—’
    ‘You are wasting your time,’ predicted Hyde. ‘You will not catch the culprit, so you should forget about it and do the job
     for which you were hired – protecting my father against the many scoundrels at Court who mean him harm.’
    ‘Willingly,’ said Chaloner. ‘When will you tell him of this decision? Today?’
    Hyde glowered. ‘Watch your tongue. My father mayoverlook your insolence because he thinks he needs your services, but I am not so indulgent. Now follow me.’
    The Earl was on one side of the spacious hearth, and his wife was sitting opposite him. Brodrick was next to her, slumped
     with his head in his hands in a way that implied he was suffering from a serious hangover, while Dugdale perched on a stool
     at the Earl’s feet. The Chief Usher looked ridiculous there, like a performing monkey, and Chaloner wondered why he had consented
     to take such a demeaning position.
    ‘There you are at last,’ muttered Brodrick, while the Earl pointedly ignored Chaloner and continued speaking to Dugdale. ‘Where
     have you been? Because of your tardiness, I am missing an important meeting with the King.’
    Brodrick was generally regarded to be one of the most dissipated men at Court, although the Earl steadfastly refused to believe
     anything bad about him and never tired in his campaign to secure him a lucrative post. Fortunately for Britain, others could
     see Brodrick’s failings, and he had so far been denied a government appointment.
    ‘You are an Adventurer?’ asked Chaloner. He was not surprised. Brodrick was essentially penniless, but that had never prevented
     him from enjoying an expensive lifestyle, and investing money he did not have in a badly organised venture was certainly something
     he would do.
    Brodrick nodded. ‘On account of the dinners – they are the best in London, and I do like a good evening out.’
    ‘Did the Adventurers meet last night, then?’ askedChaloner, taking in Brodrick’s pale face and bloodshot eyes. ‘Or were you at Lady Castlemaine’s—’
    ‘No,’ interrupted Brodrick, shooting his cousin an uneasy glance. The Earl hated the King’s mistress so much that he could
     not even bring himself to say her name; she was always just ‘the Lady’. He would certainly not approve of Brodrick enjoying
     her soirées, although Chaloner knew for a fact that Brodrick was usually the first to arrive and last to leave. ‘I caught
     a chill at church yesterday.’
    ‘Our cousin is a very devout man,’ said Frances. She was a soft, motherly creature who had probably never been pretty, but
     who had such a kind, generous face that Chaloner instinctively liked her. The wry gleam in her eye suggested that she had
     Brodrick’s measure, even if her husband remained obstinately blind.
    ‘Ah, Chaloner,’ said the Earl, pretending to notice his gentleman usher’s arrival.
    He was a short, plump man, who liked to dress fashionably, which was unfortunate because the profusion of lace, ribbons and
     ruffles served to accentuate his short neck,