Gill was scandalised. ‘You will not get me near all that filth, Lawrence. It would ruin my apparel. And my hands are far too delicate for manual labour.’
Nicholas stepped in. ‘There is no need for any of us to go to the site today,’ he said. ‘It would only depress our fellows the more to see it in such a parlous state. Thomas Bradd has men enough to clear the mess. Let us leave it to him.’
‘I wish to view the damage for myself,’ decided Firethorn.
‘Then go alone,’ urged Gill. ‘You will not get me near a place which has brought so much horror down on our heads. I begin to think that it may be haunted.’
He went off to the taproom with Firethorn at his heels.
When Hoode and Elias tried to follow, Nicholas detained them.
‘I need some help from you,’ he said.
‘Anne is the only person who can help you,’ observed Elias. ‘You should be in your bed while she nurses you back to health, Nick. With injuries like yours, I would play the invalid for a week at least.’
‘That is not an option which I can afford to take.’
‘Tell us what to do, Nick,’ said Hoode, ‘and it will be done without complaint.’
‘Thank you, Edmund. I want you to seek out Lucius Kindell.’
‘If I do, it would only be to box his ungrateful ears!’
‘School your anger,’ advised Nicholas. ‘He can be of considerable use to us.’
‘But he is no longer involved with the company,’ said Hoode. ‘He took thirty pieces of silver from Havelock’s Men.’
‘That is why you must befriend him, Edmund.’
‘Befriend the rogue! Never!’
‘Listen to Nick,’ ordered Elias. ‘I understand his reasoning and it is sound. He wants a spy in Bankside.’
‘Not a spy,’ corrected Nicholas. ‘Lucius will be an unwitting informer. Go to him, Edmund. Apologise for your coldness. Make much of him. Give out that you fear the demise of this company and must perforce look for another to stage your plays. Ask him to tell you all that he can of Havelock’s Men. We may well learn much to our advantage.’
‘I’ll do it, Nick!’ said Hoode. ‘Though I’d prefer to strike him yet will I fall upon him with fond smiles and soft words. Lucius will be too innocent to know what I am about. He will be our intelligencer.’
‘And what of me, Nick?’ asked Elias.
‘You have a more difficult assignment.’
‘I am more than ready.’
‘Then follow Master Gill.’
‘Follow him?’
‘When the play ends,’ said Nicholas, ‘wait until he leaves then act as his shadow. I fear that he is in league with Banbury’s Men and would rather know the truth of it than trust to instinct. You were briefly a member of the company and know its haunts. Trail him. See if Master Gill takes you to one of them.’
Elias grinned. ‘I’ll stick to him like a limpet.’
‘What will you do, Nick?’ asked Hoode.
‘Seek a meeting with our benefactor.’
‘Are we never to be told who he is?’
‘Not until I have permission to release the name, Edmund.’
‘I will kiss him on both cheeks in gratitude.’
Nicholas smiled. ‘I doubt that,’ he said, imagining the incongruity of Edmund Hoode trying to kiss the Countess of Dartford. ‘But let us meet again this evening when you have spoken with Lucius.’
‘And I will join you when I have anything to report,’ said Elias. ‘Shall we meet here at the Queen’s Head?’
‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘In Eastcheap. At the Brown Bear.’
Chapter Ten
Alexander Marwood truly believed that marriage was an excellent mystery but its excellence proved so elusive that he had ceased to expect it. Every day, however, he was given resounding proof of the mystery of holy matrimony. Sybil’s behaviour was eternally puzzling to her husband. When the dreadful news about their daughter’s child had first been received, they had acted in unison, fearing shame, expressing outrage and punishing the girl with joint severity. Marwood and his wife had together initiated a search, albeit fruitless, for the father of the child.
Without even consulting him, Sybil had then taken the errant daughter off to Clerkenwell after depriving him of a considerable sum of money but all that the journey had produced was a tearful girl who soon fell sick of a fever. Marwood found himself blamed both for her pregnancy and for her illness and had the galling experience of having to part with more money when the doctor was summoned to tend her. More blame was incurred by the bewildered landlord who was accused by his spouse of cruelly locking up their daughter and treating her like a condemned felon.
When the fever broke, Rose improved markedly but Sybil’s behaviour became even more mysterious. Having closeted the girl and badgered her in vain to make a confession, her mother now rediscovered a sweetness and maternal concern which was utterly baffling to her husband. Rose’s door was left open, her window unbolted and food sent to her whenever she called for it. Alternately castigated and coaxed, Marwood was further bemused when he retired to bed on the previous night to be given an absent-minded kiss on the cheek from the dry and normally inviolable lips of his wife.
He was even more befuddled when he went upstairs in search of his capricious partner and found Rose creeping uncertainly along the passageway.
‘Where are you going, girl?’ he said harshly.
‘Mother told me to take exercise,’ she said.
‘Did she?’
‘I have to build my strength up again.’
‘But you are dressed to go out, Rose.’
‘Fresh air is good for me, father. The doctor advised it.’
‘He said nothing about fresh air when he pursued me for his fee.’ A belated paternal concern brushed him. ‘How are you feeling now, Rose?’
‘Much recovered.’
‘That would be good news were it not for the shame that you bear. Are you not penitent?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘And do you not regret the pain you have caused us?’
‘It grieves me more than I can say.’
‘Then tell us who is the author of our misery.’
‘The author?’ It was her turn to be puzzled.
‘The father of your child!’
His raised voice brought Sybil bounding along the passageway with the ferocity of a lioness defending a cub against attack. She gave Marwood such an earful of rebuke that his head was spinning and all memory of his wife’s nocturnal kiss was obliterated. Pondering once more the mystery of the marital state, he beat a hasty retreat.
‘You told me to stretch my legs, Mother,’ said Rose.
‘I did, Rose,’ said Sybil watchfully. ‘But stay on the premises and do not talk to any of the servants. Confine yourself to a greeting. We have kept them ignorant of your condition and gave out that you were sick.’
Rose nodded obediently but knew that everybody at the Queen’s Head would be aware of what was going on. It made her highly self-conscious. While anxious to meet one member of the staff at the inn, she wanted to keep clear of the others lest she be assaulted with embarrassing questions. Sybil sent her on her way and watched with mixed feelings as her daughter slowly descended the backstairs. Then she went off to confront her husband with another slight change of attitude.
Rose soon found him. Leonard was in the cellar, rolling a barrel of ale noisily into position against the dank wall, his bulk magnified by the low ceiling and the narrowness of the storeroom. Rose shivered in the chill atmosphere.
‘Good day, Leonard,’ she said.
He spun round. ‘Mistress Rose!’ he exclaimed. ‘What are you doing down here?’
‘I came to thank you.’
‘Are you allowed to leave your bedchamber?’ he said, fearing reprisals from her parents. ‘Do not take risks on my account.’
‘But you took them on mine, Leonard.’
‘Did I?’
‘You offered me food.’
‘I was afraid that you were starving. They told me in the kitchen that you had not eaten for a whole day. I thought you might be denied food.’