'So, Davenham, you are here before me!' Lord Thurleigh's cold eyes flickered past Davenham, and a sneering smile curled his lips. 'And Madame de Sange. How charming to see you again!'

The viscount glanced around, a frown in his eyes.

Elinor shook her head at him. 'I could not leave you.'

'You had best give me that pistol, my dear,' drawled the marquis, 'I assure you I can fire this one before you even have time to lift your own.'

She looked at the viscount, who nodded, and she handed the carriage pistol to the marquis. He tucked the weapon into his pocket. The sounds of the mob could be heard quite clearly now, and the smell of burning filled the air.

'I would advise you to take the lady home, Davenham, and quickly. The mob are coming this way.'

'Is that your work too, Thurleigh? No wonder your groom developed such a liking for low company!'

The marquis bowed. 'But of course. My man has been working on them for weeks. It takes very little to rouse the mob, Davenham. They are no more than savages, after all. A few guineas, a little gin...'

'So that was your plan. To have the King assassinated and take the Princess and her children away from here. But what next? Is your allegiance to the Prince of Wales, or to the Stuart?'

'My allegiance, naturally, is to the winning side. Cumberland's man carried out the deed and the country will think the Duke plotted the King's death, and the disappearance of the heir to the throne. If the people decide to remove Cumberland and offer the crown to the Stuart, I shall make sure there are no Hanoverian brats alive to make trouble. If not....well, I think I can rely upon the young Prince's gratitude for keeping him safe during this period of unrest.'

'But your plan won't work, Thurleigh,' the viscount interrupted him. 'I have warned the servants. You will not see the Princess or her children today.'

Lord Thurleigh's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He waved Elinor and the viscount away from the small service door then, keeping his eyes and the pistol trained upon them, he reached out one hand to try the door. It did not yield. None of them noticed a second, cloaked figure descend from the travelling carriage. The marquis raised the pistol.

'So, Davenham, you think you have foiled me? I warned you I will brook no interference in my plans.'

Elinor stepped forward, placing herself between Thurleigh and the viscount. 'It is my fault Davenham is here. I vowed your destruction.'

The marquis laughed, regarding her coldly. 'You think you can save him again, my dear? I gave you his life once, in exchange for the ruby, but this time it won't work. I am quite happy to put an end to you both '

'No!' Margaret Thurleigh's voice rang out and she hurried up to her husband, her dark cloak flying out behind her, the hood slipping back from her unpowdered curls. 'No, my lord, you must not!'

'Put away your weapon, Thurleigh,' Davenham advised him, 'Can you not see the game is finished?'

'A game is never finished until the accounts are settled!' retorted the marquis.

Lady Thurleigh grasped his arm, saying urgently. 'No, sir, you cannot kill the woman!'

Her husband roughly shook her off and cocked the pistol. 'Can I not, my dear? I think I shall prove you wrong!'

He took aim. Davenham pushed Elinor behind him and the marquis laughed harshly. 'You think to save her? You fool, I shall kill you first, then '

'But she is your daughter!'

The words checked him. He lowered his arm. All eyes turned to Lady Thurleigh as she stood nervously twisting her hands together, her green eyes staring. 'You thought I had given birth to a still-born son, did you not, dear husband? But there were two babies in my belly two! One was the boy-child, dead at birth, but the other was a girl, a big, lusty girl, Thurleigh! Do you remember? I was visiting my sister in Oxford and big with child. I detested the condition, so fat and ugly, but you cared little for my discomfort, is that not so, Husband? You were too busy with your gaming and wenching to take an interest in me! I was never first with you.'

'I took you to wife, did I not?' he threw at her, only to hear her scornful laugh.

'Because I refused to let you bed me until you had made me so!'

'But the child,' he reminded her sharply, 'tell me!'

'They came before their time. That was another nightmare, my lord! I vowed after that I would never go through such pain again. Two babies!' she laughed, 'I knew then how to pay you back for my suffering. My maid was acting as midwife, you see, and the babes were born long before the doctor arrived. I told her to take the girl away and drown her. No one need ever know, but she wouldn't do it. I would have smothered it myself, but she pleaded with me, said she'd smuggle the baby out of the house and find a wet-nurse.'

Lady Thurleigh looked across at Elinor. 'I learned afterward that she had found someone, a learned gentleman and his wife, grieving over the death of their own babe, just a few hours old. More than that I did not want to hear. By the time the doctor arrived, we had removed all traces of the twin birth, and presented him with your still-born son, my lord.'

Thurleigh stood like a statue, only his eyes seemed alive, blazing in the livid face.

'It cannot be true,' he said at last, 'it is a tale you have fabricated, though God knows to what end.'

'Oh 'tis true enough.' She pointed at Elinor. 'Only look at her, my lord. Is not the likeness sufficient to tell you that she is my daughter? And as for her father you know well enough that you kept me safe from all other men until you were sure I was carrying your child. This lady can confirm that she was born at the same time that I was brought to bed one November night, four-and-twenty winters past.'

'But why? Why, Margaret? How could you give away your own my only child?'

My lady threw up her head, her face alight with hatred.

'It was the one weapon I had to curse you with, Guy Morellon. I knew how badly you wanted a child!'

For a full minute husband and wife stared at one another, then the disbelief left Thurleigh's face to be replaced with a look of pure fury. He raised his pistol, took deliberate aim and fired. The bullet found its target. Without a sound, the marchioness staggered back and collapsed, lifeless, to the ground.

The shot brought Thurleigh's servants running from the carriage, but they stopped at a distance from the little group, uncertain what to do. Elinor knelt beside Lady Thurleigh, searching for signs of life. Horrified, she stared up at the marquis.

'You have killed her. Your own wife!'

'She was a whore. I curse myself that I could not resist her or you! You should thank God, my dear, that I didn't rape you with the others that night at the inn. Oh, I very much wanted to, only I knew my clap-ridden body couldn't manage it! You must pay for this, Elinor de Sange.' He drew the carriage pistol from his pocket. 'You've damned me to hell, between you! Join your mother in Hades, witch!'

The viscount lunged at him and Elinor could only watch in horror as they grappled for the pistol wedged between them. A shot rang out and the two men ceased their struggle. The pistol fell to the ground with a clatter and the marquis pushed his opponent away before he himself staggered drunkenly against the wall. He leaned there, fighting for breath while a dark stain gradually spread over his waistcoat.

Davenham turned to Elinor, holding his hand out to her as she knelt beside Margaret Thurleigh's body.

'Will you never do as you are told?' he scolded her, but gently, his voice unsteady. 'I wish to God you had gone back to the carriage, and not witnessed this.'

'I know, I am sorry you are not hurt?' Her anxious eyes searched his face, then, reassured, she leaned against him, resting her head upon his shoulder.

'And at Hart Chase Elinor, is it true you gave Thurleigh the ruby to save my life?'

'Yes.' She spoke without lifting her head. 'I wanted no more killing. I wanted my own wounds to heal.'

Davenham held her close, but a slight movement caught his attention and he looked up in time to Lord Thurleigh sliding one hand into his pocket. With a smothered oath the viscount swung himself between Elinor and the marquis.

Thurleigh gave a feeble laugh.

'Have no fear, Davenham. I've no weapon hidden about me!' He withdrew his clenched fist and held it out to Elinor. 'Pray, madam, come closer.'

Hesitantly, with Davenham at her side, Elinor approached the marquis. His breathing was laboured and his voice when he spoke was barely above a whisper.

'This was part of your mother's dowry.' He dropped a velvet pouch into her hand.

She tipped out the contents of the pouch and looked down at the jewel she was now holding. It was the ruby, re-set now as a pendant with a thin gold frame and threaded on a velvet ribbon.

'Now it belongs to you Daughter!'

Elinor jumped back as if he had hit her, and he laughed at the revulsion in her face.

'Aye, that's a burden for you to carry through life, is it not? You will never be free of me now!' Thurleigh gave a soft laugh, ending in a gasp of pain. 'The final irony, my dear, is it not?' He coughed, and with a last desperate effort came away from the wall, his hands reaching out for Elinor, who shrank away from him, but life had gone from the marquis. His eyes looked at her unseeingly for a brief moment before he crashed to the floor.

Davenham put a supporting arm about Elinor's shoulders, very much aware now of the approaching mob, for he could plainly hear their yells and screams, the breaking of glass as they found some window unshuttered. A pall of smoke hung just above the rooftops, casting an eerie gloom over the streets.

'Come. We must leave here before we are caught up in the riot.'

'But we can't leave them!' cried Elinor, her face pale in the half-light.

The viscount looked around and beckoned to Lord Thurleigh's servants, still hovering anxiously a few yards away.

'Your master and mistress are dead. Take their bodies home. You have the carriage.'

'Wait!' Elinor knelt once again beside the body of Lady Thurleigh. Carefully she placed the ruby pendant about the dead woman's neck. 'There are too many memories with this stone. It would be best if it were buried with this unhappy woman.'

She rose and walked with the viscount back to his coach, leaving Thurleigh's men to their unpleasant task. As they walked away, some instinct caused Elinor to glance up at the windows of Leicester House. She caught a fleeting glimpse of a woman's face at a first floor window. The next instant it was gone.

Chapter Twenty-four.

My Lord Davenham concludes the game.

The viscount guided Elinor back to the carriage to find his servants anxiously awaiting his return and only too willing to set off for Hartworth House. The bishop was huddled fearfully in one corner and as the door was shut upon them he cried out in a shrill, querulous voice, 'Damme, sir, but you took your time! I had given up all hope of seeing you again. Indeed, I would have driven on had your coachman been at all agreeable, but the dratted fellow refused to move until you was returned.'

'Calm yourself, Furminger,' the viscount's voice was cold. 'We were gone less than ten minutes.'

Sitting quietly in her own corner, Elinor was surprised to hear his words: had only minutes passed since she followed the viscount into the side street? Events had moved so rapidly that she could not yet comprehend it all. They travelled quickly through the empty streets, only the bishop's anxious remarks breaking the silence within the coach. His presence prevented any conversation between Davenham and Elinor, and she could not be sorry. For the moment her thoughts were in too much turmoil to be put into words. Furminger continued to grumble and peer anxiously out of the window, but the streets were deserted as news of the rioting spread and the only signs of life were the occasional ragged figures hurrying to join the mob, hoping to gain something from the looting that would inevitably occur. Davenham and Elinor maintained their silence, each lost in thought, until they reached the Haymarket, when a cry from the bishop caught their attention.

'Ah, that's more like it!'

Elinor glanced across to see what had brought about this sudden change in tone, and observed Bishop Furminger sitting bolt upright, staring out of the carriage window. Sounds of marching feet could clearly be heard approaching and moments later a body of uniformed men filed past the carriage.

'Now the army has been called out we shall soon have order restored.' Davenham smiled at Elinor. 'And in a very few moments from now you will be safe within my father's house.'

'But it is no thanks to you, sir!' cried the bishop. 'Tarrying so long with the mob almost upon us, I tell you, I had begun to fear for our lives.'

The viscount gave a short laugh. 'There's only one life that interests you, Furminger, and that's your own!'

The carriage drew up outside Hartworth House and Davenham escorted Elinor inside, pausing only to order the waiting footmen to attend the bishop. They found both Lord and Lady Hartworth awaiting them and their appearance was greeted with great relief.

'Thank Heaven you are safe!' cried my lady, embracing Elinor and drawing her towards a sofa. 'My dear child you look worn out. Come and sit here by the fire let me take your cloak, child, then you can tell us everything. When we heard the mob were rampaging through the streets I was terrified lest you should be attacked.'

Lord Davenham turned to the earl, saying urgently, 'Before anything else sir, tell me what news from the Palace? We heard on the streets...'

'The King is safe. I went to St. James's as soon as you had left the house this morning. As one of the Lords of the Bedchamber, Lord Thomas would naturally be attending him, so I dropped a word in several quarters and when Thomas realized he was under suspicion he soon broke down and confessed all he knew. It seems he allowed himself to become deeply in debt mostly to Lord Thurleigh. He undertook to kill the King because Thurleigh promised to look after his family. The alternative was debtors prison, and his wife and children thrown penniless upon the streets.'

'Poor devil!' muttered Davenham.

'As you say my son.'

Lady Hartworth was bending over Elinor, coaxing her to drink a glass of wine, but at her husband's words she looked up.

'Whatever may happen to Lord Thomas, sir, can we not do something for his family?'

'I shall see they are not destitute, my love. You have my word on that. But what of your business, Davenham? Did you see the bishop?'

'We did. He agreed to speak against Thurleigh but so great was his fear of the marquis that I was obliged to bring him here for safe-keeping, although what has occurred since then ...' He paused. 'Thurleigh is dead, sir.'

'Good heavens!' Lady Hartworth sank down beside Elinor on the sofa, her hands pressed to her cheeks. The earl received the news with slightly less astonishment, merely nodding and asking if the bishop might now retract his evidence.

'Oh I don't think he can do that, my lord. He has said too much. Of course he may try to lessen his role in the affair, but we still have the list that Julian Poyntz wrote out for Elinor. I think he must still confess.'

'Good. Where is the bishop now?'

'I've given orders that he should be put in a guest room and made comfortable there. I suggest you keep him there, sir. I've had as much of the fellow as I can stomach on the journey here!'

'You said the marquis is dead, Jonathan.' My lady looked puzzled. 'How did you learn of this?'

'I killed him, Mama.'

The countess gave a faint shriek.

'Go on, my son.' The earl urged him.

Davenham's eyes went to Elinor, who was looking dazed and pale. With a visible effort she rose from the sofa and went up to him.

'You must tell them. Everything.'

'Are you sure, Elinor? There is no need '

'Yes there is. It must all be told.' She pressed his hands and summoned up a small, tight smile before stepping back, then, with a murmured apology she picked up her cloak and left the room.

Elinor made her way to the comfortable apartment that had been assigned to her. There she found her maid waiting to help her to change her dress. She dismissed the girl with an order to send Hannah upstairs, and when she was alone she carefully laid the cloak over the back of a chair before sitting herself before her mirror. She scarcely recognized the face that stared out at her, the features so pale and drawn: rather she saw the face of Margaret Thurleigh, and in her head rang the words that lady had screamed at her husband: She is your daughter your daughter 'Mistress Nell, you sent for me?' Hannah's anxious voice broke in upon her. 'When I heard that the mob were on the streets I could not rest until I knew you were safe.'

The old woman broke off as Elinor turned from the mirror, in her eyes a look of such anguish that Hannah was obliged to smother a gasp of dismay. Covering her anxiety, she chided Elinor, as she would have done a child. 'Oh, Miss Nell, now look at your muddied petticoats! We will have you out of them and into bed in a trice, never you fear, and I shall fetch you a nice hot brick for your feet, for it's a good rest you need....'