Waving them to seats, she called for the servant, and a pitcher of wine was brought in on a tray. Margery dismissed the girl with a glance and filled two of the three cups which stood on the table. Gill and Hoode expressed their gratitude before sipping their wine.
‘This is a sad day for us all,’ she began.
‘It is, Margery,’ said Hoode with a sorrowful smile. ‘We are swept from our stage like unwanted dust. London ousts us.’
‘Nobody can oust me,’ boasted Gill, striking a petulant pose. ‘I leave of my own free will. Neither tempest, flood, nor fire will drive me away when I do not wish to go.’
Hoode shrugged. ‘Even you cannot defy the plague, Barnaby.’
‘People are still leaving in droves,’ said Margery. ‘There are wards of the city where the disease is rampant. Shoreditch has so far been spared the worst effects, but we have victims enough here. Would that we could all flee!’
‘I am not fleeing,’ insisted Gill. ‘I merely choose to exercise my right to go.’
‘This is no time to stand on your dignity,’ said Hoode with irritation. ‘Choice does not come into it, Barnaby.’
‘It does for me.’
‘Plague orders compel us to set off on a tour.’
‘They may compel you, Edmund. I am above compulsion.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Simply this,’ said Gill with a lordly sniff. ‘You may be content to drag yourself around England in search of an audience of smelly oafs who cannot even tell the difference between a tragedy and a comedy. But I am not. Why should I demean myself? Why should I suffer the indignity of walking at the cart’s-tail with a ragged band of players?’
‘Ragged band!’ echoed Margery angrily. ‘Do not let Lawrence hear you speak so irreverently of Westfield’s Men, or he will box your ears soundly. Enough of this vanity, sir! You are contracted to play with the company and my husband will ensure that you honour the contract.’
‘Contracts can be revoked.’
‘To what end?’ asked Hoode.
‘The betterment of my reputation.’
Margery hooted with derision. ‘Desert the company and you will have no reputation, Barnaby! You will be branded a traitor by your fellows. Who would deign to employ you then?’
‘More than one discerning patron,’ he snapped. ‘I have already had some tempting offers which would rescue me from the tedium and fatigue of a tour and prove a fitter setting for my genius.’
‘What offers?’ she demanded.
‘I am not prepared to discuss them with you, Margery. This is a matter between the sharers of the company, and I will not divulge anything to those of lowlier station.’
Margery Firethorn bristled. A big, handsome woman with a friendly nature and warm maternalism, she could turn into a creature of snarling ferocity when she was provoked. Hoode intervened before she roared into life.
‘For shame, Barnaby!’ he scolded. ‘Margery is our hostess. How many times have you dined at her table and received the bounty of her welcome? Every decision we make here today affects her directly, and she is entitled to know how it is reached. So let me ask you again-what offers?’
‘I will disclose them in due course.’
‘Why not now?’
‘Because Lawrence is not here and I will not waste my words by repeating myself.’ Gill turned to Margery but could not meet her burning gaze. ‘Pray send your husband in.’
‘He will come of his own accord,’ she retorted, ‘and that may not be for some time. Lawrence is not at home.’
‘He must be!’
‘Search the premises, if you do not believe me.’
‘We were brought here for an important meeting.’
‘It will take place in due course.’
‘The time was set,’ said Gill peevishly. ‘We were here upon the stroke of the hour, and so should Lawrence have been. We have vital business in hand. What could possibly keep him away from such a crucial conference?’
‘Lord Westfield.’
Hoode was surprised. ‘He is with our patron?’
‘An urgent summons came earlier this afternoon.’
‘What was its purpose?’
‘I do not know, Edmund. But this I can tell you. Lawrence saddled his horse and was away to Court within a matter of minutes. He paused only long enough to give me instructions. I am to entreat you to wait and to excuse his delay.’
‘It is unpardonable!’ said Gill.
‘Yet it may bring us advantage,’ mused Hoode, groping for some good news on a day bedevilled with bad tidings. ‘Knowing that we must set forth from the city, Lord Westfield may offer us money to sweeten the sourness of our departure and to help us along the way. That must be it! Our patron is putting his hand into his purse.’
‘Then he has borrowed money from Lawrence,’ said Gill waspishly. ‘That is the only reason our esteemed patron would touch his purse. To put something in rather than to take anything out. Lord Westfield’s purse has been empty for many a year, and there are dozens of creditors to vouch for it.’
‘He may have raised capital from other sources.’
‘Only to spend on more wine for his cellar.’
‘There’s hope for us here,’ persisted Hoode. ‘Our patron would not have summoned Lawrence on some trifling matter. He means to lend his support to us at this difficult time.’
‘I refuse to believe it, Edmund. When has Lord Westfield ever offered more to us than the protection of his name and the occasional discarded cloak for our wardrobe? Because we excel at our art, we give him a special lustre at Court, yet he treats us with the disdain he reserves for the rest of his liveried servants.’ Gill shook his head. ‘No. Put away those fond imaginings. Our patron will not help us with this tour.’
‘The matter is of no consequence to you, Barnaby.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you do not intend to stay with the company.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘You did,’ reminded Margery. ‘You said that you could not endure the misery of another tour and that you would consider other offers which you had received.’
‘Tempting offers,’ said Hoode. ‘That is what you called them, and you have clearly been tempted. If you have already sold your soul to another buyer, why bother to come here in the first place? What point is there in discussing a tour in which you have no intention of taking part?’
Margery indicated the door. ‘There is the way out,’ she said. ‘Leave while you may. When Lawrence hears about this treachery, he’ll tear you limb from limb. What greater disgrace is there than abandoning your fellows in their hour of need?’
‘I am not abandoning them,’ denied Gill.
‘You are,’ confirmed Hoode. ‘We both heard you.’
‘Nothing is yet settled.’
‘Even to countenance the possibility is a crime against Westfield’s Men. Put the company first for once.’
‘And waste my talent in front of country bumpkins?’
‘An audience is an audience.’
‘I deserve the best!’
Margery was scathing. ‘If you leave the company now, you deserve to be boiled in oil,’ she said. ‘And I will be happy to stoke up the fire with my own bare hands.’
Barnaby Gill flared up angrily, Margery Firethorn struck back at him, and Edmund Hoode tried in vain to calm them down. The argument was still at its height when they heard the swift approach of a horse. It made Gill freeze and stilled Margery in mid-expletive. Hoode crossed to the window.
‘Lawrence!’ he announced. ‘At last!’
Firethorn brought his mount to a halt, dropped from the saddle and tossed the reins to the servant who came running out of the house. The gallop had put a glow into the actor’s cheeks. His face was streaked with perspiration and his beard flecked with dust. As he crossed the threshold of his home and doffed his cap with a flourish, there was no mistaking the air of excitement about him. He looked as if he had just quit the stage at the end of one of his most towering performances.