Page 79 of The Armor of Light

He decided not to mention what had happened to Alf Nash. He should avoid looking as if he was on a personal vendetta. Better to present himself as a citizen concerned with the general welfare.

Sergeant Beach returned promptly: it seemed that Northwood had a sense of Hornbeam’s status, even if his sergeant did not. A few moments later Hornbeam was shown into a spacious room at the front of the house, with a blazing fire and a view of the west front of the cathedral.

Northwood sat behind a large desk. To one side stood a young man in lieutenant’s uniform, evidently an aide. To Hornbeam’s surprise Jane Midwinter, the handsome daughter of the rogue canon, was also there, wearing a red coat like a soldier. She was sitting on the edge of Northwood’s desk as if she owned it.

When she saw Hornbeam she stood up and curtsied, and he bowed politely. He recalled hearing Deborah and Bel talking about Jane, saying that she had set her cap at Northwood, so presumably she was here to progress her scheme of winning his heart. Mid-morning was not the usual time for social calls, but perhaps Jane Midwinter was one of those beautiful women who thought they could do anything.

The girls thought Jane had no chance of hooking the viscount because her father was a Methodist. Looking at the dopey expression on Northwood’s face now, Hornbeam had a feeling they might be wrong.

He hoped she was not going to stay. To his relief she walked to the door, blew a kiss at Northwood, and went out.

Northwood reddened and looked awkward, then said: ‘Sit down, Alderman, do.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’ Hornbeam took a chair. Northwood’s vulnerability to Jane suggested that he had a soft side. This was not good news. The times demanded hard men.

The times always demanded hard men.

‘May I offer you some refreshment?’ Northwood said politely. ‘It’s a foul day out there.’

There was a tray on Northwood’s desk bearing a coffee pot and ajug of cream. Hornbeam remembered that he had not finished his breakfast. ‘A cup of coffee would be most welcome, especially if it had a splash of cream in it.’

‘By all means. A clean cup, Sergeant, at the double.’

‘Right away, sir.’ Beach went out.

Northwood was courteous but brisk. ‘Now, Alderman, I imagine your visit has a purpose?’

‘I trust the cloth I’ve been supplying for militia uniforms has been perfectly satisfactory?’

‘I believe so. There have been no complaints.’

‘Good. I know you delegate the responsibility for purchasing, but if for any reason you wanted to speak to me about the cloth, naturally I’d be glad to do anything I can for you.’

‘Thank you,’ said Northwood with a touch of impatience.

Hornbeam quickly switched to his real purpose. ‘However, I’ve come to see our member of Parliament, rather than the commanding officer of our militia. I trust that’s all right.’

‘Of course.’

‘I’m concerned about the Socratic Society that has been formed by Spade – David Shoveller – and some of the lower elements in the town. I think its true aims are subversive.’

‘Oh? I went to their first meeting.’

That was a setback.

Northwood went on: ‘It was rather good. And quite harmless.’

‘That’s a measure of how sly Spade is, my lord. They have lulled some of us into a false sense of security.’

Northwood did not like the implication that he had been fooled. ‘I see no indication that they might be violent.’

‘I happen to know that their second meeting will be about reform of Parliament.’

Northwood was not overly impressed. ‘That’s a different matter, of course,’ he said, but he did not seem very worried. The sergeantbrought a china cup and saucer, poured coffee and cream, and handed it to Hornbeam, while Northwood went on: ‘It all depends on what’s said. But we certainly can’t ban the meeting in advance. Merely planning a meeting to discuss Parliament isn’t against any law.’

‘That’s the problem,’ Hornbeam said. ‘Itshouldbe against the law. And I hear that there is much talk in Westminster of toughening up the laws on sedition.’

‘Hmm. You’re right about that. Prime Minister Pitt wants to clamp down. But Englishmen are entitled to their opinions, you know. We’re a free country, within reason.’