‘Then you’ll want to know why two of the hired men were given their wages in advance,’ said Nicholas, anticipating his question. ‘I know that it is something on which you frown, but there were pressing needs in both cases.’
‘A house burnt down? A death in the family?’
‘Thankfully, nothing of that degree.’
‘Then the wages should not have been paid,’ argued Firethorn, ‘for those are the only reasons that would soften my heart. You establish a foolish precedent here, Nick.’
‘I acted in the best interests of the company.’
‘Did you?’
‘Would you rather that Nathan Curtis and Hugh Wegges were imprisoned for debt?’ asked Nicholas. ‘For that is what their creditors threatened them with. Where would we find such a willing carpenter and such a reliable tireman again?’
‘They would be a loss to us, I grant you.’
‘Then hear my tale.’
As quickly and succinctly as he could, Nicholas told him about their bad luck at the card table set up by Philomen Lavery. He also mentioned that Owen Elias’s win the previous night had led indirectly to his sluggishness that morning. Firethorn began to roll his eyes and gnash his teeth. He looked like Vincentio on the point of getting his revenge.
‘A pox on this card table!’ he declared. ‘Why did you not tell me of this before?’
‘I thought the landlord might have mentioned it to you.’
‘I wish he had, for I’d have forbidden most of the company from going anywhere near it. Some of the sharers may have money to lose – though I am certainly not one of them – but hired men cannot afford to hazard all on such low wages.’
‘I think that Nathan and Hugh both understand that now.’
‘So must the others. I’ll speak to them all later and issue a warning. As for Owen,’ he said, looking vengefully around the room but unable to see the Welshman, ‘I wondered why he was half asleep today. He should set an example to the others, not throw his money away at a card table.’
‘But he made a profit there. That was his downfall.’
Firethorn was quivering with anger. ‘If he turns up like that again,’ he said, ‘I’ll be his downfall. Death and damnation! We are beset by enough problems as it is. Has he forgotten what’s happened to Edmund, one of the pillars of this company? Take him away and Westfield’s Men begin to totter. Owen must help to support us.’
‘He knows that, and he has called on Edmund every day.’
‘Well, I hope that he did not turn up in that state, or Edmund, kind-hearted man that he is, would have climbed out of bed and put Owen into it instead. When he arrived this morning, that Welsh satyr might have clambered out of his grave.’
‘Owen is duly repentant.’
‘Let him rest his wagging pizzle for a while and we’d need no repentance.’
‘He accepts that,’ said Nicholas, wanting to protect his friend from Firethorn’s ire. ‘Owen will make amends on stage this afternoon. He is much better now. I wish that Edmund could recover just as quickly.’
‘I wish only that he will recover, Nick ‘
‘There’s no question but that he will.’
‘That’s not Margery’s opinion,’ said Firethorn uneasily. ‘My wife is no mean physician. She’s nursed grandparents and parents through their last hours on earth, and she knows the signs. When she called on him yesterday, Margery was shocked to see him. She believes we may have lost Edmund forever.’
‘Why does he not come into the house?’ asked Hoode. ‘You cannot leave him outside.’
‘Preben would prefer it that way,’ said Anne.
‘It makes me feel a poor host.’
‘You are in no fit state to welcome anyone, Edmund. He only came with me to deliver a hat that he made. Preben van Loew is very shy. He would be nervous company. Let him cool his heels at your door.’
Hoode was touched when Anne Hendrik came to his lodging but embarrassed that she should see him in such a weak condition. He had more colour in his face now and more animation in his body, but he was still troubled by fatigue. Like his other visitors, she was worried by what she saw. Slim by nature, Hoode had nevertheless lost weight. Anne had never seen his cheeks so hollowed, but she concealed her anxiety behind a warm smile. In every way, she was a much gentler presence than Margery Firethorn, and he was grateful. Anne helped to soothe him.
‘Nick tells me that you are sorely missed at the Queen’s Head,’ she said.
‘I miss them all in return.’
‘You’ll soon be able to take your place among them, Edmund.’
‘I begin to lose hope of that,’ he confided with a deep sigh. ‘This new herbal compound has cleared my head but done little to restore my strength. Look at me, Anne. I struggle to sit upright in my bed.’
‘I thought this second doctor had seen the disease before.’
‘He has. Doctor Rime called it by a Latin name that only he and Doctor Zander understood. They think it may be months before I regain my health. Months!’ he said in despair. ‘I cannot be away from Westfield’s Men for that long. It’s a betrayal of them.’
‘Do not even think that,’ said Anne. ‘To have you back with them, your fellows would gladly wait a year without complaint. You forget what you have already done for the company. While you lie here, the plays of Edmund Hoode still delight the audiences at the Queen’s Head.’
‘Old plays, Anne. Tired heroes. They cry out for something new to cheer.’
‘And you will give it to them in the fullness of time. Meanwhile, enjoy the rest that you have deserved. Nick will say the same when he calls here later on.’
‘Has he talked perchance of another play by Michael Grammaticus?’
‘He has done more than talk of it, Edmund,’ she said. ‘Last night, he brought it home to read it through. It’s called The Siege of Troy.’
Hoode brightened. ‘A subject I have always wanted to explore,’ he said. ‘It offers so much to any dramatist. Michael is steeped in Greek history and will sound deeper chords than I could manage. What did Nick say of it?’
‘Oh, he liked the play.’
‘Come, Anne. Do not think you will injure my feelings by heaping praise on another. I have no jealousy here. Why should I?’ he asked. ‘I admire Michael Grammaticus and his work. If this new tragedy of his can fill the gap that was left by me, it will bring me such pleasure and relief. Nick liked the play, you say?’
‘Very much. But the decision does not lie with him.’
‘To all intents, it does. Lawrence will lean heavily on his advice.’
‘Then I think the play will be bought.’
‘These tidings warm my heart,’ said Hoode with a smile. ‘Many authors have only one play of merit in them, and I feared it might be so with Michael. But he has the skill to build on his early triumph. Caesar’s Fall will have raised expectations. I delight in the knowledge that he has fulfilled them.’
His sincerity was apparent. Anne was struck once again by his readiness to praise the work of others. In a profession where pride and arrogance flourished, Hoode remained untouched by either and was refreshingly modest about his own achievements. Out of consideration for his feelings, she did not tell him what Nicholas had said about The Siege of Troy being superior to anything that he could write, but she sensed that even that judgment might not upset him. Eager to assist the career of another playwright, Hoode was more likely to pass on the comment to Michael Grammaticus in order to inspire him. She recalled something about the new author.
‘Is it true that he pays the doctor’s bills?’ she said.
‘Michael does more than that, Anne.’
‘Does he?’
‘He comes here every day to see how I am and to run any errands for me. I think that it is his way of thanking me for the encouragement I have been able to give.’
‘Nick says that he’s a lonely man who does not make friends easily.’
‘He certainly has my friendship,’ said Hoode. ‘M
ichael will do anything for me. Had you come an hour earlier, you’d have met him yourself. He’d just come back from the market.’ He indicated a bowl of fruit. ‘That is what he bought for me.’
‘How kind!’
‘Doctor Zander prescribed fresh fruit, so Michael brings whatever I need. At the doctor’s behest, he has even made and fed me a broth. Oh, yes,’ he went on, ‘Michael Grammaticus is much more than a gifted playwright. He’s been friend, nurse, and cook to me as well.’
At the rear of the Queen’s Head was a small garden, tended by Leonard, that produced a few vegetables as well as a variety of flowers. It was there that Nicholas Bracewell finally tracked down the card player. Philomen Lavery cut an odd figure as he strolled around, gait slow and head down in contemplation. He could be no more than thirty, but the grey hair and pinched face added at least another twenty years to his appearance. What struck Nicholas was the paleness of the man’s skin. Blue veins ran in tributaries all over his forehead, and his eyebrows were no more than wisps of white hair. Lavery was a small man with an almost feminine daintiness about him. Owen Elias had said that he might pass as a priest, and Nicholas could see why. There was a faintly spiritual air about Philomen Lavery.
When Nicholas introduced himself, the other man gave a self-effacing smile.
‘Your reputation goes before you, sir,’ he said.
‘What reputation?’
‘The landlord tells me that you are the prop that holds up Westfield’s Men. Actors are a breed apart. They live by different rules than the rest of us. It must be difficult to work with such capricious and quicksilver characters.’
‘We have our awkward moments,’ admitted Nicholas.
‘Yet, from what I hear, you take them in your stride.’
‘I try, Master Lavery. I try. But what brings you to London?’
‘I came to do some business,’ replied the other. ‘Most of my day is spent at the Royal Exchange with other merchants. My evenings, as you know, are dedicated to business of another kind.’
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘I wished to speak to you about that.’
‘I am all ears, my friend.’
Lavery seemed so friendly and looked so innocuous that Nicholas found it hard to believe he was involved in deception at the card table. His doublet and hose were of good quality but muted colours, and he wore no hat while enjoying the evening sunshine in the garden. His grey locks were ruffled by a light breeze.
‘I gather that some of my fellows visit you in your room,’ Nicholas began.
‘That is so. You are welcome to join them.’
‘I’ve no love for games of chance.’
‘Then why do you work in the theatre?’ asked Lavery. ‘Is that not the biggest game of chance of all? Think what risks you run every day. You are at the mercy of the weather, the city authorities, and the fickleness of your audiences.’
‘Do not forget the plague, Master Lavery. That closes down every playhouse.’
‘In short, you live by putting yourself in jeopardy.’
‘There’s every likelihood of it,’ conceded Nicholas. ‘That is true.’
‘Then you are a brave man, Master Bracewell. You and your fellows tempt fate in your occupation. It requires a lot less courage to play a game of cards.’
‘Courage or folly?’
Lavery smiled. ‘That depends on whether you win or lose.’
‘My concern is with those who lost,’ said Nicholas. ‘Two of the hired men came to grief so badly at your table that they were forced to ask for their wages in advance. Both were married men who lacked the money to feed and clothe their families.’
‘Then they were unwise to play cards. Each did so of his own free will.’
‘Only because the game was here to tempt them.’
‘They’d find cards or dice in many taverns, if they knew where to look. And I did not sit down with my pack in the taproom. I simply asked the landlord if he knew of anyone who might enjoy a game or two.’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘I lived to rue the day I made that request.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he was the first through my door. Adam Crowmere is the luckiest man I have ever played against,’ he complained. ‘I thought myself hard done by when I lost seven shillings to a laughing Welshman last night.’
‘That was Owen Elias.’
‘No sooner had he quit my room than the landlord steps in and wins almost twice that much from me. If I do not recoup my losses tonight,’ he said jokingly, ‘I may not be able to pay the rent.’ He looked up at Nicholas. ‘Why not come to my room?’
‘I told you. I’ve no interest in cards.’
‘You’ll take an interest in these, I believe.’
‘Will I?’ asked Nicholas.
‘Yes, my friend. I can see in your face that you think me a cheat. I do not blame you for that,’ he said, holding up a hand. ‘When a stranger like me arrives here without warning and coaxes money out of the purses of your fellows, you are bound to think me a cony-catcher. Examine my pack of cards and you’ll find them clean and unmarked.’
‘I do not accuse you of deception, Master Lavery.’
‘Then why did you accost me out here?’
‘To see you for myself and to tell you of my worries.’
‘I am pleased to meet you,’ said Lavery, ‘but you bear your anxiety to the wrong person. If some of the actors cannot afford to lose, keep them away from my room. I’ve no wish to deprive any wife or child of sustenance.’
‘Master Firethorn has already given a stern warning. After the performance this afternoon, he told the whole company about the danger of playing cards.’
Lavery’s eyes gleamed. ‘But therein lies its excitement.’
‘There’s no excitement in losing all your wages.’
‘Oh, but there is, there is. As soon as you turn over the first card, your heart begins to beat much faster. Win or lose, you feel the blood pulsing through your veins. And do not tell me you’ve not courted danger in your time,’ he went on, head to one side as he grinned at Nicholas. ‘I talk to a man who once sailed with Drake around the world. What terrors and tempests you must have endured! And yet you are afraid of a harmless game of cards. Shame on you, my friend!’
Philomen Lavery gave a nod of farewell before heading back toward the inn. He was a mild-mannered man whose voice was soft and educated, yet Nicholas had found the conversation rather unsettling. He was convinced that Lavery was no cheat, preying on gullible fools who were enticed to play cards with him, but he was still uneasy. He sensed that he was at a disadvantage. Nicholas had learnt very little about the man. Lavery, on the other hand, seemed to know far too much about him.
The high ideals that inspired those who first set up Bridewell as a workhouse had long been abandoned. It was a house of pain now. Hywel Rees hated everything about it. Its constraints irked him; its regimen was strict and its atmosphere oppressive. Boys like Ned Griddle endured it all with quiet resignation, but Hywel could not do that. He was a natural rebel who was ready to question, challenge, and, if necessary, resist. It earned him a few beatings from the keepers, but his spirit was not broken. After five long days in Bridewell, he was as defiant as ever.
‘Have you never tried to escape, Ned?’ he asked
‘Never.’
‘Why not?’
‘Where would I go?’
‘Back home to your family.’
‘I have no family,’ said the boy. ‘My mother died years ago, and I’ve no idea who my father was. We lived on the streets. When they let my brother out, that was his only home. He’ll sleep in the open till the bad weather comes.’
‘And then?’
‘He’ll have to find cover.’ Griddle looked gloomily around the room. ‘At least we have a roof over our heads.’
‘Yes,’ said Hywel resentfully, ‘and four thick walls to keep us in.’
‘We get our meals.’
‘Do you call that food? It makes my stomach turn. When I worked on a f
arm in Wales, we gave better fare to the pigs.’ His lip curled in disgust. ‘I thought they were meant to cure us here. With food like that, we are more likely to catch a foul disease.’
‘It’s better than starving, Hywel.’
‘I’d rather take my chances on the streets.’
‘Look where it got you.’
‘They’d not catch us again.’
Hywel gazed wistfully out of the window. Along with a handful of others, they were locked in a room on the second floor of a building that overlooked one of the courtyards. In former days, the palace had echoed to the footsteps of royalty and of visiting ambassadors, but it had a decided air of neglect now. The courtyard was deserted. It was evening, and work had finally ceased. Having been given their meal, the inmates were all under lock and key. Ned Griddle had settled into the routine without complaint, but his companion was restless.
‘I must get out of here,’ said Hywel.
‘We all think that at first.’
‘I have a friend, Dorothea. She needs me to look after her.’
‘You’ll forget her in time.’
‘Never!’ retorted Hywel. ‘I love her.’
Griddle shrugged. ‘You may never see her again,’ he said. ‘They let us out and keep the women here. There’s far more work for them to do. The lucky ones eat good food and wear fine clothes.’
‘Lucky ones?’
‘Stay here a while. You’ll see.’
Hywel did not have long to wait. Ten minutes later, a carriage appeared and the clatter of hooves reverberated around the courtyard. When the vehicle stopped outside the door to the main hall, five men in rich apparel hauled themselves out and exchanged noisy banter. It was clear from their laughter and unsteady movements that drink had been taken. A tall figure in ostentatious attire emerged from the door to greet them.
‘Master Beechcroft,’ said Griddle.
‘Is this the night of the feast?’
‘Yes, Hywel. The women will be here soon.’
But it was a second carriage that next swept into the yard, bringing with it another bevy of loud and mirthful guests. The four men who alighted were all middle-aged, and they embraced Beechcroft in turn before going into the hall. Hywel watched with growing discomfort as other guests arrived on horseback. They were all men, and, judging by their hilarity, they were intent on enjoying themselves. When they had dismounted and tethered their horses, they followed Beechcroft through the doorway.
The Counterfeit Crank Page 9
