‘We must find the villain!’
‘That was your office, Alexander.’
‘I taxed Master Firethorn by the hour.’
‘What has he done?’
‘Asked his book holder to look into the matter.’
‘Did Nicholas Bracewell not track down the villain?’ she said in surprise. ‘Then the man is more cunning than we thought. If he can elude someone as sharp-eyed as Master Bracewell, what hope do we have of finding him?’
‘Rose.’
‘Her lips will not speak his name.’
‘Nor will those of the players,’ said Marwood, ‘though some of them must surely know who the rogue is. Such men always boast of their conquests. Half the company have probably heard the story of how he seduced Rose Marwood.’ He came to a sudden halt and stamped both feet in turn. ‘This is unbearable. I am in Hell itself!’
‘Keep your voice down, Alexander.’
‘I will expire from a broken heart.’
‘You will do nothing of the kind, sir. You will stay on the trail of this man until you run him down. It is only a question of time. Rose admitted that he was an actor so we know that he is a member of Westfield’s Men.’
‘Or was, Sybil.’
‘Was?’
‘That was Nicholas Bracewell’s thought. Haply, the man is no longer with them. The company changes all the time. In the course of a season, they take on and release a number of hired men. Rose’s lover could have been one of them.’ He plucked recklessly at his few remaining tufts of hair. ‘He may not even be in London any more. He may be sowing his vile seed a hundred miles away.’
She became indignant. ‘Spare me such foul language, sir.’
‘I am sorry. Despair got the better of me, Sybil.’
‘Then take your despair elsewhere if it makes your tongue run with such filth. I expect purity in my bedchamber.’
Marwood did not have the courage to mention his own blighted expectations with regard to the marital couch. They had withered on the vine many years ago. When he looked at Sybil now, a lump of human granite in billowing white linen, he marvelled at the fact that they had somehow, somewhere, in the distant recesses of time and by a grotesque error, actually had a semblance of affection for each other which had enabled them to produce a child. Marwood gurgled. Every second of illusory pleasure which he experienced that night had cost him hour upon hour of excruciating pain.
Sybil had closed her eyes and fallen so eerily silent that he supposed her to be asleep. After another frantic stroll up and down the room, he went to the bed and climbed carefully in beside her. His wife let out a deep murmur.
‘Master Pryde!’
‘Who?’
‘Sylvester Pryde,’ she said firmly. ‘I have come to believe that he was Rose’s downfall.’
‘Which one is he, Sybil?’
‘The handsome man with airs and graces. He wears fine apparel and has a quality most of his fellows lack. His beard is always well-trimmed. He is more liberal with his purse than the others, more courteous, too. Rose noticed him.’
Envy stirred. ‘It seems that she was not the only one!’
‘I was only displaying a mother’s vigilance.’
‘I know, I know,’ said Marwood with a mollifying touch on her arm. ‘What astounds me is how he managed to evade your vigilance. It has kept Rose safe from harm for so long. The man we seek is clearly Deception itself.’
‘Sylvester Pryde may fit that description.’
‘But he was questioned along with the others and found innocent of the charge. Nicholas Bracewell would have put serious questions to him.’
‘I would like to do that myself,’ said Sybil darkly. ‘This Sylvester Pryde is altogether too plausible. I have a strong sense that he is involved here. When I mentioned his name to Rose, she blushed crimson.’
‘Let me at him!’ said her husband, flaring into life again. ‘I’ll take a pair of shears and geld the knave.’ He made such a violent gesture with his hands that the bedside candle was blown out by the displaced air. ‘I’ll insist that Master Firethorn expels the miscreant at once.’
‘We have first to be certain of his guilt, Alexander. And that can only be done by wresting a confession from Rose. I’ll work more craftily on her.’
‘Do so, Sybil. Practice on her. Wear her down. You are well-versed in that black art.’
‘What black art?’ she asked.
‘I spoke in jest,’ he said, regretting his momentary lapse into honesty about his wife. ‘What I was praising was your gifts of persuasion.’
‘I hope so, sir. I am in no mood for censure.’
‘I have complete confidence in you,’ he assured her — then an image of his daughter came suddenly into his mind. He gave an involuntary shiver. ‘When is the unbidden child due?’
‘Forget the child.’
‘How can I forget it when she carries it before her?’
‘We may soon rid ourselves of that burden.’
‘How? That devilish grandchild will be around our necks for the rest of our days. With the whole parish pointing their fingers and laughing at us. We will have to feed, clothe and bring up a bastard child, Sybil.’
‘I’ll not endure that.’
‘You will have to, my love. There is no cure.’
She turned to face him and opened a bulging eye.
‘There is.’
Nicholas Bracewell returned to Bankside that night at a far later hour than he had intended. Having nobly waited up for him, Anne Hendrik, tired and slightly tetchy, was about to scold him for breaking his promise to get back earlier when she saw the deep concern etched in his face. Tiredness fled, tetchiness disappeared and a surge of sympathy ensued. After giving him a welcoming kiss, she led him to the parlour and sat beside him.
‘Something terrible has happened,’ she guessed.
‘It may happen, Anne.’
‘What may?’
‘Extinction.’
When he explained the situation to her, she cursed herself inwardly for imagining for one moment that he had been delayed by some roistering with his fellows in the taproom. Anne knew that she should have had more faith in her lodger. Only a serious crisis would have made Nicholas default on his promise and nothing could be more serious than threat of dissolution.
‘What does Lawrence Firethorn say?’ she asked.
‘I would not care to repeat his words in front of you.’
‘And the others?’
‘Most are resigned to their doom.’
‘Without even fighting for survival?’ she said with spirit. ‘That does not sound like Westfield’s Men. You have overcome plague, puritan attacks, disapproval by the City authorities, a fire at the Queen’s Head, even the imprisonment of Edmund Hoode for seditious libel. Your inn yard playhouse has been closed down before but it has always opened again.’
‘Not this time, Anne.’
‘Only two theatres to remain? It is a scandal.’
Nicholas pursed his lips and nodded. ‘There are those in the Privy Council who believe that theatre itself is a scandal,’ he said philosophically, ‘and they have strong support from the Church. We are up against the great and the good, Anne. They have the power to muzzle us completely.’
‘Is there no way out of this predicament?’
‘Only one and even that might not save us. But at least it would give us a fair chance against our rivals. They would think twice about ending the career of Westfield’s Men so abruptly if we had our own playhouse.’
Anne was incredulous. ‘Your own playhouse?’
‘Yes,’ he said with a wan smile, ‘I know it may sound like a wild dream but it is not outside the bounds of possibility. First, we need a site. Next, we must hire a builder. And then there is the small problem of paying for them both and buying the materials for construction.’
‘Can this be done, Nick?’
‘If we want it enough, it can.’
‘But where would your playhouse be?’
‘Here in Bankside, Anne.’
‘When we already have The Rose?’
‘But that is all you have,’ he said. ‘Shoreditch has two theatres close by each other. If we build a third there, we have to compete with both of the others.’