To Tempt the Devil (A Novel of Lord Hawkesbury's Players)

by C. J. Archer

  “Away from the windows,” Rafe said and steered her toward the stairs.

  “Is someone here?” came a woman’s voice from the top of the staircase.

  Lizzy looked up at the pretty girl with milk-white skin and a thick rope of wheat-colored hair drooping over her shoulder. “Kate? I don’t know if you remember me but my name is Lizzy Croft. I’m a friend of Will Shakespeare’s from the theatre. I came here once to deliver a message to him.”

  “I’m terrible with faces,” Kate said. “Will!” she called out. “Will, someone here to see you.”

  “He’s here?” Lizzy couldn’t believe her luck. Will would help. The playwright had an ingenious mind; he’d think of something to say to Treece to get rid of him.

  A fist pounded on the back door through which they’d just entered. “Open up!” someone shouted.

  “Who the bloody hell is that?” Kate asked, coming down the stairs. She wore a housecoat over a shift. Both were open at the top, revealing a lot of creamy flesh. Behind her Will Shakespeare appeared in nothing but a shirt reaching to his knees. His feet were bare.

  “What’s going on?” He rubbed his eyes and squinted down at Lizzy.

  “Will,” she said. “It’s me, Lizzy Croft, and this is my friend—”

  “Lizzy!” Will gasped. “What in God’s name are you doing here? They’re looking for you everywhere!”

  A fist pounded on the door again. “Open up! Now!”

  “Keep your hose on!” Kate shouted back as she passed Lizzy on the bottom stair.

  More pounding, this time on the front door. “Go delay them,” Will told Kate.

  Kate humphed and turned her glare onto Rafe as he and Lizzy ran past her up the stairs.

  “Our apologies for the intrusion,” Rafe said with a nod of greeting.

  Kate’s jaw dropped and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You’re a…”

  “An ugly woman. Thank you, so I’ve already been told.”

  “I…I…”

  At the top of the stairs, Lizzy clasped Will’s hand. “We need your help,” she said, but Will was already pulling her across the landing.

  They entered a bedchamber and he pressed a panel of the wainscoting. Nothing happened. He clicked his tongue. “It’s here somewhere,” he muttered and pressed another panel.

  Down below, footsteps drummed across the floor. Treece shouted at his men to search then he shouted at Kate. “Has anyone come in here? Two women, one big, one small?”

  Kate’s answer was muffled.

  Please don’t betray us. Lizzy had met Will’s mistress only once and very briefly. She owed Lizzy no allegiance. Whether she owed Will enough to harbor fugitives in her house was another matter.

  “They’re not down here,” a man called out.

  “Upstairs then,” Treece answered him.

  Lizzy’s blood went cold. She willed Will to hurry, to do something, to use his creative mind to save them. Rafe lowered the sacks. Readying to drop them and fight?

  “Ah.” Will’s murmur was punctuated by the soft click of the panel opening.

  There was no time to think as he gripped her arm and threw her through the small door. She had to duck and Rafe had to bend almost double, but once inside they could stand albeit not move. Will closed the panel and darkness embraced them. She couldn’t even see a crack of light shining around the door.

  For a moment the only sound was her own breathing. Rafe was silent but his arm touched her. He must have put the sacks down, because his hand found hers. She held on tight, giddy with gratitude that he was with her.

  Giddy with fear.

  The silence was shattered by Treece’s voice ordering his men to search the bedchambers. Footsteps muffled by the floor rushes thumped past their secret door. Lizzy held her breath, closed her eyes, and prayed.

  A moment passed. Two. Three.

  Rafe’s hand squeezed hers. She leaned into him, soaking in his confidence and the comfort he exuded just by being there. He pulled her into his chest, lumpy from the grain-filled sacks, and massaged the back of her neck.

  Without thinking, she wrapped both her arms around him and clung on, desperate to hold on to the one sure thing in a life that had quickly gone from normal to insane. It felt so right and so good that surely there was nothing wrong with taking comfort from someone who shared the same dangers.

  The footsteps left. Treece’s men informed their leader that they’d checked everywhere and found no sign of “the murderers.”

  “Murderers!” Kate’s exclamation was quickly followed by Will saying, “Bloody hell! You won’t find any murderers in here. We’re good English subjects. We don’t harbor that kind.”

  More silence. What was happening? What was Treece doing?

  Rafe stopped massaging and a small whimper escaped her. Tears welled. Don’t stop. Please hold me. As if he could read her thoughts, his big warm hands caught her cheeks and drew her face up.

  Then he kissed her.

  Shallow, teasing kisses so tentative it was hard to imagine they came from the big, brusque man. But they did and they were oh, so good. But not enough. Not nearly enough.

  More…

  She wanted to taste him, feel his lips everywhere. Heat spiked through her and she tingled all over. It was like she’d been rolling around in the snow then plunged into delicious warm water.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and he pressed her against him. His hands seemed to be everywhere—on her face, back, shoulders, digging through her hair, cupping her behind.

  It was madness and she didn’t care.

  The door jerked open and they sprang apart, or as far apart as the space would allow. Rafe snarled and grabbed the shirt of the man standing there but when he saw it was Will he let go.

  Lizzy pressed herself back against the wall for balance. The world had tilted and she needed to hang on or she’d slide off.

  “Well,” said Will, glancing from one to the other. “Interesting what fear and confined spaces can do.” He broke into a grin. “You can come out now, if you want to. They’re gone.”

  Rafe snatched up the sacks and pushed past Will. Lizzy followed and watched him stride to the door, checking his surroundings. His face was pale and drawn. He looked ill, but his eyes were darker and fiercer than ever.

  Kate passed him coming in. “Is he in disguise or does he always dress like that?” she asked Lizzy, a wry smile on her lips.

  Lizzy tried to think of something witty to say but her mind failed her and her voice probably would too. So she lifted one shoulder and shook her head.

  Kate looked to the large bed with its rumpled covers. “Where were you two hiding?”

  “Not under there.” Will sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to show you now.”

  “Show me what? What have you been keeping from me, William Shakespeare?” Even with hands on hips and an expression that could wither a tree, Kate managed to look beautiful. “Well?”

  “Don’t frown so, my sweet shrew. If the wind changes, your pretty face will stay like that forever.”

  “There is no wind in here. And you are not so high and mighty that you can speak to me like I’m no better than a speck of dirt on your hose. I can find myself another man who won’t treat me with such, such…rudeness! One who won’t write trite plays about me either.”

  “Trite? Ha! You loved it and loved your part in it even more.”

  “Only up until the heroine capitulated. I would never do that.”

  “I know,” he muttered.

  Lizzy dared a glance at Rafe to see what he thought of the lovers’ spat, but he was too busy looking out the high window and didn’t seem to have heard any of it.

  Will blew Kate a kiss. “Calm yourself and look at this.” He opened the secret door again and Kate gasped.

  “All the years I’ve lived here and I never knew it was there!” She poked her head inside. “How did you come to know of its existence?”

  “The landlord showed me when I first rented the house
for you. This humble little abode was built by Catholics who found themselves in need of hiding a priest on occasion. Good, isn’t it?” He looked very pleased as he shut the door again. It was so well concealed it was impossible to know there was an opening hidden among the wainscoting panels at all. “The trickery and ingenuity that spring from desperation and fear never fail to intrigue me. Take a look at these two.” He indicated first Lizzy then Rafe. “Your disguises are extremely good. Your skill is to be applauded, dear girl.”

  “I’m afraid they’re useless now,” Lizzy said. “Treece and his men have seen us.”

  “Ah!” Will held up a finger and raced out the door.

  Lizzy looked to Kate but the other woman merely shrugged.

  “Did you really kill someone?” Kate asked. She was looking at Rafe but he either didn’t hear or was ignoring her.

  Lizzy answered for him. “There’s been a terrible misunderstanding, which we are trying to fix before…” Before it was too late and they were arrested, tried, and hanged.

  Will returned with his arms full of hats, wigs, and a beard. “You can borrow something of Kate’s,” he said to Lizzy, “but I’m afraid your friend’s size is a difficulty. I keep a set of clothes here for myself, of course, but none will fit him. Nor will Kate’s and not even your skillful fingers will be able to alter them to suit.”

  “I bought some on our way here,” Lizzy said, relieving him of the wigs and beard. “One of the sacks contains all I’ll need for him, but these are perfect! I’m amazed you keep such things here.”

  Kate licked her top lip. “He likes me to alter my appearance for—”

  “I’m looking after them for our tiring house manager,” Will cut in with a sharp glare at Kate. “As you know, we are in a somewhat heated discussion with the Theatre’s landlord over our lease.” He shook his head. “The less property we keep there, the better.”

  The Theatre had been the first dedicated playhouse but the land’s owner was not keen to renew the agreement that saw Lord Chamberlain’s Men performing there. Without access to their theatre, the troupe was experiencing some financial difficulty, so Lizzy had heard. It was even more amazing then that Will, a sharer in the company, could afford to keep his mistress in a house, albeit a modest Southwark one.

  “Let us see what you have in that sack of yours,” Will said, picking them up. “You’ll have to stay awhile anyway, so you might as well dine with us. What say you, sir?”

  Rafe turned away from the window and gave a nod. “I say you are a good man to help us. We’re grateful to you and your friend for harboring us. If you don’t mind our company until nightfall then we’ll be indebted to you. The danger isn’t over yet.”

  “That is quite an elegant speech,” Will said. “And nicely spoken too. If ever you need a new profession, you should consider a career onstage. What is it you do now? Aside from running from the authorities, that is.”

  Rafe gave him a darkly humorous laugh. “I fix things for people.”

  “Ah. Like a stagehand.”

  Rafe extended his arm. “Rafe Fletcher.”

  “Will Shakespeare, player and playwright.” Will nodded a greeting and introduced his mistress, Kate Manderring. Before he’d finished, Kate hooked her arm through Lizzy’s and led her out to the landing.

  “Come help me in the kitchen,” she said.

  “Yes, please,” Will pleaded from behind them. “Show her what to do with the pots and pans, Lizzy.”

  Lizzy smiled, her fears fading quickly. “Ha!” said Kate. “I’ll learn what to do with them when you make me your wife, William Shakespeare.”

  “I already have a wife,” he said without a hint of apology.

  “So he says,” Kate muttered. “But has anyone ever seen the wench?”

  “She doesn’t live in London.”

  “And yet you do. What a convenient marriage.”

  “The best kind.”

  In the kitchen Lizzy found herself working alongside Rafe after Kate declared she couldn’t cook an egg let alone an entire meal. It seemed she usually bought cooked pies or roasted meats from one of the local cookshops. It was just like being at Hughe’s house with Lizzy and Rafe quietly preparing the food without getting in each other’s way. The only difference was that behind them, seated at the table, Kate and Will went through the sacks and discussed how to make good disguises out of the old clothes and rags. Occasionally their chatter stopped. Lizzy only made the mistake of turning around once and wished she hadn’t. Seeing the amorous couple kissing only reminded her of the one she’d shared with Rafe.

  She could not think of that. Not now. Not later. Not ever. She didn’t even like him much, and she certainly didn’t trust him. Besides, he was James’s brother. No wonder Rafe hadn’t said a word to her since emerging from the priest’s hole. He must feel as despicable as she did. At least they both regretted it. That was a good thing. It meant there was no chance they would kiss again.

  They dined on fish together at the kitchen table and afterward they all helped Lizzy create some new clothes for Rafe. By late afternoon, they’d finished. Somehow Lizzy managed to measure Rafe yet not touch him with any intimacy. It also helped that she didn’t look him in the eyes.

  “That’s him done,” Kate said, folding up the new woman’s skirt and bodice they’d made for him. “Now for you, Lizzy. I have just the thing in a trunk upstairs.”

  The two of them got as far as the bottom step when a knock sounded on the front door.

  Lizzy’s heart slammed into her ribs. The women looked at each other. Rafe came out from the kitchen, Will at his heels.

  “Upstairs,” he hissed. “Now!” He grabbed Lizzy’s arm and together they raced up. He found the secret door and she stepped inside. He followed and pulled it shut.

  Lizzy strained to hear sounds of footsteps or talking beyond the wall but there was nothing. Only their ragged breathing filled the silence. She itched to reach out for Rafe’s hand, to get some comfort from him, but she dared not. Disaster in the form of their kiss had followed the last time she did that.

  Without warning, the door suddenly opened. A scream caught in her throat and she shrank back.

  Will’s face beamed at her. “Be calm,” he said. “Look who’s here!”

  “Lizzy, thank God you’re all right!” The refined, delicate features of Antony appeared around Will.

  “Antony,” she whimpered. “It’s you.” She clutched at the hand he extended and gratefully received his hug. She might have even cried. Just a little. But it was Antony after all, so it didn’t matter, and it felt so wonderful to see him. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her friend.

  “You trust him?” It was Rafe, standing close behind her. Or rather, looming over her.

  “Yes,” she said, wiping her cheeks. “Absolutely.”

  Antony glanced over her head at Rafe. He cleared his throat and set her aside. “Have you been taking good care of her? Because if you haven’t…” His threat ended on a swallow and no one expected him to continue. Because what would a man who liked to dress as a woman say to a mercenary like Rafe? I’ll claw your face with my fingernails? The fact that Rafe was actually the one dressed in skirts and a bodice was an irony not lost on Lizzy. She giggled, a reaction in part to the absurdity of it, but mostly due to relief. Antony had arrived and Treece had not.

  “Something funny?” Rafe asked.

  She bit the inside of her cheek to control the smile and shook her head.

  “So be it.” He lifted his skirts and strode to the door. “We men will be downstairs while you ladies find a new dress.”

  Antony raised both eyebrows and appeared to be holding back a grin. Will paused at the door and said, “He’s including you when he says men, Antony.”

  “Barely,” Kate muttered, lifting the lid on a trunk.

  Antony made a rude gesture at her back. “Including you in the ladies part was more than a gross exaggeration, it was an insult to all true ladies.”

  K
ate flicked a hand, dismissing him, and he left with a wink at Lizzy. Kate beckoned her over to the trunk and pulled out a black skirt and a black, burgundy, and cream bodice with a swirling pattern through it. A simple outfit for a simple woman. Perfect.

  “Thank you,” Lizzy said, holding it up. “We are of a size so it should fit.”

  Kate eyed Lizzy’s chest. “Hmm. We shall see. Try it on. Here.” She fished out a shift and hose from a different trunk.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure. Besides, I shall have your clothes in exchange until you can return these.”

  Lizzy’s gown and bodice weren’t particularly fine but they were as good as the ones she was borrowing and Kate could pin them to fit.

  “Let me help you.” Kate laid out her clothes on the bed while Lizzy removed her old crone’s disguise. It was a relief to shed the extra padding. Once she was dressed in the clean hose and shift, Kate stopped her from donning the rest. “Let me fetch water and we’ll wash the ash out of your hair first.” A few moments later, she returned carrying a basin of water and a cloth. She carefully removed the charcoaled lines from Lizzy’s face then helped rinse her hair. After Lizzy dressed, Kate gave her a thorough inspection which began and ended at her breasts. “Well. Perhaps we’re not of a size after all.”

  Lizzy looked down at her chest. The shift sat low, barely covering her breasts, and the tight bodice pushed them up. “I think I should put my old clothes back on.”

  “Absolutely not!” Kate caught her hand and dragged her to the door. “It’s a wonderful disguise.”

  “But I will attract too much attention dressed like this.”

  “Your titties will, not your face. The constables won’t look above your neck. What better disguise is there?”

  Lizzy reluctantly followed her down the stairs and entered the kitchen, interrupting the card game between the three men. Will, the first to look up, made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. His eyes widened and a bead of sweat popped out on his high forehead.

  “Um…” he said.

  “Well,” said Antony. “All this time and I never knew you had those.”