‘You are not the only one to say that. Hugh Wegges has made the same vow.’
‘There’ll be others who’ll suffer at the hands of Philomen Lavery.’
‘Then they must accept the blame,’ said Nicholas. ‘They’ve been warned. When he addressed the whole company about the danger, Lawrence did not mince his words.’
Curtis grinned. ‘He does not know how to mince his words.’
In spite of the drizzle, the market in Gracechurch Street was as busy as ever and the two men had to shoulder their way through the crowd. Amid the deafening noise, conversation was almost impossible so they did not even attempt it. They walked on and let the rich compound of smells invade their nostrils. Eventually, they turned into the yard of the Queen’s Head. George Dart came trotting obediently towards Nicholas.
‘I’m glad to see you here so early, George,’ said the book holder.
‘I know how much there is to do today.’ He looked at Curtis. ‘I’m sorry that I broke that stool yesterday, Nathan. It was an accident.’
‘It always is,’ moaned the carpenter. ‘Try to be less clumsy.’
‘I will. Oh, Nicholas,’ he went on, turning back to him. ‘You have a visitor.’
‘Do I?’
Dart pointed to a figure curled up in a corner of the yard. Nicholas did not at first recognise her. Dressed in rags and soaked to the skin, Dorothea Tate got up nervously and came across to him. When she brushed the hair back from her face, Nicholas could see that she had been crying.
‘Please!’ she begged. ‘I need your help.’
By the time that Owen Elias arrived, Nicholas had calmed the girl down, taken her inside to dry off and bought her some breakfast. Dorothea consumed it hungrily. While she ate, Nicholas was able to take a closer look at her. She was not simply bedraggled. She was heavily bruised. Her temples were discoloured, her lip swollen and both her wrists had telltale marks of violence on them. Alerted by the message from the book holder, Elias came hurrying into the taproom.
‘George Dart said that you wanted me post haste, Nick.’ He saw the girl. ‘Iesu Mawr!’ he exclaimed. ‘Is that you, Dorothea?’
‘Yes,’ she murmured.
‘What’s happened to you?’
‘She was out in that rain all night,’ said Nicholas.
‘Where’s Hywel?’
‘That’s what she was just about to tell me, Owen. Sit down and we’ll hear the tale together.’ Elias lowered himself onto a stool. ‘Dorothea knows nobody else in London. We are the only people she can turn to for help.’
‘We’re not people, Nick,’ said the Welshman, grinning at the girl. ‘We’re friends. We’ll do all we can for her and Hywel. He’s a fellow countryman of mine.’
They waited for Dorothea to speak but she was hesitant, unsure if she could trust two men whom she had only met briefly, and not certain if she had the courage to put into words the horrors that had befallen her. She looked from one to the other.
‘Bear with her, Owen,’ said Nicholas, softly. ‘She has suffered, as you see.’ He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Do not speak until you are ready, Dorothea. Feel free to take your time.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You are very kind.’
‘Ask anything you will.’
‘Yes,’ said Elias. ‘Where have you been since last we saw you?’
‘In Bridewell.’
‘God’s mercy! No wonder you are cowed. What brought you there?’
‘We were arrested for begging in Eastcheap. We had no papers.’
Shivering as she recalled the experience, Dorothea told them about the arrest, the appearance in court, the whipping administered at Bridewell and the laborious work she was forced to do there. What made the place so intolerable was that she was kept apart from Hywel Rees. She could not sleep for thinking about him.
‘Did nobody tell you where he was?’ asked Nicholas.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I might never have seen him again if they had not made me go to that feast. I fought as hard as I could but it was no use. The keeper was too strong.’
‘What’s this about a feast?’ wondered Elias.
The words came out haltingly. ‘Some guests were invited to a feast in the main hall,’ she said, averting her eyes. ‘Gentleman from the city. I was told to please them or I’d be whipped again. The other women were set onto me. They tried to persuade me.’
Elias was disgusted. ‘Bridewell whores, eh? You do not belong with them.’
‘That’s what I kept saying,’ she explained. ‘But the women dressed me to look like them and I was dragged to the hall, protesting all the way. As we crossed a courtyard, Hywel saw me from his window. He was shocked.’
‘What did he do?’ asked Nicholas.
‘He tried to rescue me.’ Her face lit up for second. ‘How he escaped from his room I cannot tell you but I knew that Hywel would somehow come to my aid. I was in the hall, arguing still and being chastised by Master Beechcroft, when he burst in. As soon as Hywel saw what they were doing to me, he flung himself at Master Beechcroft and beat him to the ground. It took three men to pull him off.’
‘Who is this Master Beechcroft?’
‘One of the people who runs Bridewell.’
‘What did he do when Hywel was overpowered?’
‘He wanted revenge,’ said Dorothea, wringing her hands. ‘There was blood streaming from his nose and he was shaking with anger. If he’d had a weapon on him, think he’d have drawn it against Hywel. As it was …’ The words tailed off. Dorothea needed a moment to gather herself. ‘As it was,’ she continued, ‘he swore an oath then said something that made me catch my breath.’
‘What was it?’ asked Elias.
Her lips trembled. ‘Master Beechcroft said Hywel had caused enough trouble at Bridewell and that he’d not get the chance to cause any more.’ She shivered violently. ‘Then they took Hywel out and I never saw him again.’
‘What happened to you?’ said Nicholas. ‘Were you forced to stay at this feast?’
‘No, I was taken away and beaten. A couple of days later, they discharged me.’
‘So soon? But you’d been sent there by a court.’
‘They do as they wish at Bridewell,’ she said, bitterly. ‘Master Beechcroft boasts about it. People come and go all the time. They had no need of me so I was thrown out.’
‘Yet they kept Hywel in there?’
‘No. He’s not at Bridewell. They told me so.’
‘Then where is he?’
‘I do not know,’ she cried. ‘That’s why I came to you. Something terrible has happened to Hywel. I sense it. He tried to save me and they punished him for it in some way. He was my only real friend in the world. I must find out what happened.’
‘Hywel was brave,’ Elias said, admiringly. ‘He tried to save you.’
‘But at what cost?’ asked Nicholas. ‘I do not like the sound of what we heard.’
‘No more do I, Nick.’
‘I think this Master Beechcroft will bear close inspection. If he’s empowered to run Bridewell, there are rules that must be obeyed. It’s a place where the poor are put to work, not a house for revelry and licence.’
Dorothea was pathetically grateful. ‘You’ll help me, then?’ she said.
‘Do not doubt it.’
‘We’ll find Hywel for you,’ vowed Elias. ‘You may rely on us, Dorothea. Apart from anything else, I want him to teach me the trick of counterfeiting the falling sickness. It may come in useful one day.’
But the girl was not listening. Overcome with relief, she burst into tears.
The spectators who stood in the yard that afternoon had their numbers reduced and their spirits dampened by the weather. Overhanging eaves gave those who sat in the galleries a degree of protection that was not shared by those below. Undeterred by the persistent drizzle, Westfield’s Men put their hearts and souls into a performance of The Maid of the Mill, a rustic comedy that drew much incidental humour from its many references to blazing sunshine. When the actors pretended to wipe sweat from their brow, they were merely brushing away the moisture that coated every face. The drizzle gave them other problems. It not only made the stage slippery, it soaked into their costumes and made them much heavier to wear.