Owen Elias was so pleased at the turn of events that he sang to himself in Welsh as he strolled down Gracechurch Street. Chance had contrived their salvation and turned unhappiness into sheer joy. He was still exercising his rich baritone voice as he turned into the yard of the Queen’s Head. When he confronted the scene of destruction once more, however, the ditty died on his lips. Because of the concerted efforts of the company, much of the debris had been burnt or taken away but enough still remained to bring him to a halt. Instead of looking at one side of the inn, he was staring over piles of rubble at the houses beyond. It was dispiriting.
Out of the corner of his eye, he detected movement and swung round to see the landlord shuffling towards him with a stranger. The other man was in his forties, tall, stooping and in need of a walking stick. From his appearance, Elias could tell that he was a man of substance. He wore a smart brown suit, a fine hat and he had an air of prosperity about him.
‘You come upon your hour, Master Elias,’ said Marwood. ‘This gentleman has come in search of a friend who stayed here last night.’
‘Will Dunmow?’ asked Elias.
‘The very same. I’ll leave him in your hands. I am so weighed down by what has happened that I can barely speak.’ He shot them both a baleful glance. ‘Excuse me, sirs.’
‘The landlord was not very helpful,’ said the stranger as Marwood walked off. ‘I had difficulty prising a word out of him.’
‘Then you are fortunate, my friend. This morning, a whole torrent of abuse surged out of his mouth and it was aimed at us.’ He offered his hand. ‘My name is Owen Elias and I belong to Westfield’s Men.’ They shook hands. ‘What have you learnt about Will?’
‘Nothing beyond the fact that he spent the night here and died in the fire. I am Anthony Rooker, by the way,’ said the other, face lined with anxiety. ‘I’m a friend of Will’s father and offered the son bed and board while he was visiting London.’
‘He was very grateful, sir, and spoke well of you.’
‘That’s good to hear.’
‘Will told us that he was here to do business on his father’s behalf but that he intended to enjoy himself while he did so. He was cheerful company and generous to a fault.’
‘The lad has always been open-handed.’
‘His father is a merchant in York, I believe.’
‘Isaac Dunmow and I were partners in the city until I moved to London, but we still transact business together if the occasion serves. However,’ said Rooke, lips pursing in trepidation, ‘I am not sure that our friendship will survive this. I was meant to look after Will. I was in loco parentis.’
‘He was too old to be fathered and too young to drink with actors. That was Will’s undoing, alas.’
‘Tell me what happened.’
Elias gave him an honest, straightforward account of Will Dunmow’s fateful visit to the Queen’s Head, ashamed of the way that he had helped to get him helplessly drunk, thereby making him so vulnerable. Anthony Rooker listened with a mingled sadness and unease, stunned by the details of the death and wondering how he could break the news to the father when he wrote to him. He was not surprised to hear of Will Dunmow’s readiness to carouse.
‘His father is inclined to severity,’ he explained, ‘and frowns upon most of the pleasures of life. It is only when he journeys south that Will can enjoy drink, lively company and entertainment.’
‘What about women?’ asked Elias.
‘He has not neglected them while he was here.’
‘I ask that because he was so enamoured of Emilia.’
‘Emilia?’
‘A character in The Italian Tragedy, the play that moved him so much. When he acted as our benefactor, the person he most wished to meet was Emilia. Thinking her to be the gorgeous young lady he had seen on stage, Will blushed deep crimson when he realised that the part had been taken by Dick Honeydew, one of our boy apprentices.’
‘He is not well-versed in your conventions.’
‘It shocked him that he was entranced by a young lad.’
‘It would have shocked Isaac even more.’
‘One thing you may tell the father,’ said Elias, ‘not that it will soften his grief. But his son died happy. While he was with us, Will was in ecstasy and said so in round terms.’
‘Then I will certainly mention it in my letter.’
‘I’ll gladly write to his father myself, if that would help.’
‘No, no,’ said Rooker quickly. ‘This is wholly my obligation. I mean no disrespect to you, Master Elias. The truth is that Isaac does not hold players in high regard. This tragedy will only serve to confirm his prejudices.’
‘What of the body?’
‘I’ll see it taken to York for burial.’
‘You will have to wait until the coroner releases it,’ said Elias. ‘I would add this warning. Will was badly burnt. It would pain you to look on him and you must advise his father not to open the coffin. His son should be remembered as he was in life.’
‘That’s good counsel. I’ll follow it.’
‘If there is anything we can do, Master Rooker, do call on us.’
‘You’ve told me all I need to know.’
‘The truth was harsh but it had to be spoken.’
‘I bid you farewell, sir.’
‘One moment,’ said Elias as he remembered something. ‘You told me earlier that you and Will’s father were partners at one time.’
‘For several years.’
‘Why did you go your separate ways?’
A shadow fell across the face of Anthony Rooker. ‘We parted by mutual consent,’ he said evasively. ‘Isaac Dunmow has many virtues and every attribute that a merchant must have. But he was not the easiest person with whom to get along.’
‘You and he had an argument, then?’
‘In asking that, you presume far too much.’
‘Then I apologise,’ said Elias, holding up two penitent hands. ‘It is just that wine tends to loosen the tongue and it certainly set Will’s free. When he talked of his father, it was not with affection. Will said that he sometimes resorted to violence.’
Rooker’s eyes flashed. ‘Good day to you, sir,’ he snapped.
Turning abruptly, he hobbled away on his walking stick.
‘It is an accident that Heaven provides,’ said Anne Hendrik, taking his hands. ‘By all, this is wonderful, Nick!’
‘It has certainly rallied Westfield’s Men.’
‘No wonder. Instead of being deprived of work, they will be able to win new friends in a foreign country. My only regret is that you will not be able to perform in Amsterdam while I am there.’
‘Denmark will keep us fully occupied.’
‘Your patron, too, by the sound of it. Having outlived two wives, I never thought that he’d take a third.’
‘When he was deep in debt,’ said Nicholas Bracewell, ‘he was in no position to do so. An inheritance has transformed his outlook. The lady in question would enchant any man.’
‘I hope that you were an exception.’
‘Of course — I am already spoken for.’
Anne laughed and brushed his lips with a kiss. It was late evening and they were in her house in Bankside. At the end of a long and eventful day, Nicholas was grateful for some peace and some warm companionship. Anne, too, was able to relax for the first time as they sat side by side in the parlour.
‘Describe her to me,’ she requested.
‘Who?’
‘This paragon whose portrait you saw in miniature. Is she really a princess of Denmark?’
‘Only in Lord Westfield’s mind.’
‘Is she dark or fair?’
‘Fair.’
‘What of her eye, her lip, her cheek?’
‘She has the requisite number of each,’ said Nicholas, ‘but she still does not compare with you, Anne. You have one crucial advantage over Sigbrit Olsen.’
‘And what is that?’
‘I can see you as you really are — a lovely woman in the prime of life with virtues too numerous to name. All that I know of Lord Westfield’s bride is what I gleaned from her portrait. Limners can be deceptive,’ he pointed out. ‘And they are there to please their clients.’