‘You could not have chosen a better play for the occasion, Nick,’ he said.
‘That is what we felt.’
‘I expected to miss Barnaby Gill but your new clown filled his place admirably. The man was familiar. Did I not see him once with Conway’s Men?’
‘With them, with Rutland’s Men, with Banbury’s Men, even with Viscount Havelock’s company, for a short time. Giddy has played with them all.’
‘I’m glad that he’s added Westfield’s Men to his list.’
‘As are we, Sebastian,’ said Nicholas. He smiled at Thomasina. ‘I hope that you enjoyed the performance as much as your father.’
‘Yes, I did,’ she said demurely.
‘Who caught your eye? Rigormortis? Or did you prefer Lord Hayfever?’
‘I like them both, sir, but I loved the shepherd even more. He sighed so.’
‘That was Edmund Hoode,’ said Frant. ‘You must meet him, Thomasina.’
‘I would like that, Father.’ Her eyes flicked to Nicholas. ‘I am told that you are the most important person in the company.’
‘Oh, no,’ replied Nicholas, ‘that is too gross a claim.’
‘Not in my opinion,’ said Frant. ‘The actors would be helpless without you behind the scenes. You all but run the company. Who pays the rent to the Queen’s Head on behalf of them? Nick Bracewell. Who employs a scrivener like me to produce a neat copy of a new play? Nick Bracewell. Who keeps all the play books safe? Who collects all the money from the gatherers at the door? Who devises many of the tricks that are used on stage? And who spreads contentment among the others simply by being there?’
Nicholas was modest. ‘Your father overstates his case,’ he said.
‘I think not,’ she said. ‘He was close to Westfield’s Men at one time.’
‘It was a sad day when we had to lose him, Miss Frant.’
‘Come,’ said Frant. ‘There are plenty of scriveners in London.’
‘But none with anything to rival your experience, Sebastian. Before you came to us, you held an exalted position.’
Frant gave a wan smile. ‘Hardly that, Nick! I was secretary to the Clerk of the Privy Council. Have you any idea how tedious it is to copy out edicts and statutes and memoranda? I all but died of boredom,’ he went on. ‘Working for a theatre company was excitement itself after that. When I first set eyes on Cupid’s Folly, I could not stop laughing, and that was before it ever graced a stage.’
He broke off as Firethorn and Elias came striding out of the tiring-house. Both had changed out of their costumes but they still cut an impressive figure. Holding a position in the middle of the stage, Firethorn gazed at Thomasina.
‘Where have you been hiding this divine creature, Sebastian?’ he asked. ‘This surely cannot be your daughter. She is too beautiful to be sired by humankind.’
Thomasina blushed. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, bowing her head.
‘Well,’ said Elias, staring at her. ‘Introduce us to this angel, Sebastian.’
Frant did as he was bidden and both men claimed the privilege of kissing her hand. Nicholas observed how unused she was to flattery. Some of their fulsome comments brought a fresh tinge of colour to her cheeks. He stepped in to fend off any further embarrassment for her.
‘I think that you have not watched a theatre troupe very often, Miss Frant.’
‘Not at all,’ she confessed. ‘I did not know what to expect.’
‘Why have you neglected your daughter’s education, Sebastian?’ asked Firethorn. ‘You should have taken her to every play that you could.’
‘Opportunities to do that are few in number,’ said Frant. ‘Conway’s Men have been to Dover but they are nothing beside you. I’d not make Thomasina sit through their barren performances.’
‘Giddy Mussett has a low opinion of them as well,’ noted Elias.
‘So does Pieter Hendrik,’ said Nicholas. ‘A weaver in the town who supplied them cloth that they took without paying.’
Frant nodded. ‘They’ve made many enemies in Kent, I fear.’
‘Unlike your lovely daughter,’ said Firethorn, inclining his head towards her in a token bow. ‘Thomasina will only ever leave admirers in her wake.’
After praising the performances of both men, Frant decided that it was time to leave but he promised to watch the company perform in Faversham, and his daughter was eager to see them again as well. As the visitors walked out of the yard, Nicholas waved to their old scrivener. All that his companions could see was the daughter.
‘Diu!’ exclaimed Elias. ‘Have you ever seen such a lovely face as hers?’
‘Forget her, Owen,’ warned Firethorn with a grin. ‘Thomasina is mine.’
‘Edmund was her choice in the play,’ Nicholas told them.
Firethorn was aghast. ‘What? A lovelorn shepherd is preferred over me?’
‘At least, it was not Rigormortis,’ said Elias with a laugh. He looked around. ‘By the way, where is Giddy? We need to celebrate.’
‘Was he not in the tiring-house with you?’ asked Nicholas.
‘No, Nick. He left some time ago. I thought he came out here.’
Nicholas sensed trouble. Mussett was on the loose.
The Black Eagle was a tavern that was situated down an alley that led off the High Street. It was a low, ugly, lopsided building with an air of dilapidation about it. Even in broad daylight, the interior was dark and gloomy. There was a musty smell that was intensified by the tobacco smoke that curled up from a dozen pipes. Yet when Giddy Mussett stepped over the threshold, he breathed in deeply as if inhaling fresh air. The fetid atmosphere of the Black Eagle was like the breath of life to him. The taproom was almost full, every table occupied by shadowy figures playing with dice or cards. Mussett ordered a tankard of ale and quaffed half of it in a single guzzled mouthful. Then his eyes became accustomed to the fug. Having slaked his thirst, he wanted pleasure. He went through into the smaller room at the back and saw Bess Roundel, sitting beside a bearded man who was playing familiarly with her hair. Mussett strolled over to them.
‘Good even, Mistress Roundel,’ he said, raising his tankard to her.
‘Giddy!’ she cried with delight.
‘Get rid of that foul toad beside you.’
‘Who is this?’ demanded the bearded man, glaring at Mussett. ‘Bess is mine for the night and I’ll stand no interference.’
‘If you’d interfere with Bess, then I’ll interfere with you, sir.’
‘Away with you, you pie-faced rogue.’
Mussett tossed the remains of his ale in the man’s face then struck him on the head with the tankard. Before he could recover, a flurry of punches hit him from all angles and the man slumped off his chair and on to the floor. A ragged cheer went up from the others in the room. Bess looked alarmed but Mussett cackled in triumph.
‘Come,’ he said, grabbing her by the hand. ‘He’ll not be needing you now.’
‘I can see why Sebastian never mentioned his daughter before,’ said Firethorn. ‘He wanted to keep the girl away from temptation.’
‘You sound like the one who is tempted, Lawrence,’ remarked Edmund Hoode.
‘As never before.’
‘Is this the moment to remind you that you are a married man?’
‘Marriage vows dissolve in the face of so much beauty.’
‘Sebastian is our friend,’ said Nicholas. ‘For his sake, you must not even consider such a thing. The girl is young and innocent.’
‘Youth, innocence and beauty. Thomasina has all three.’
‘So did Margery when you first met her,’ Hoode reminded him.
They were sitting in a corner of the taproom in the Star Inn, enjoying a drink as they reflected on the performance they had just given and looked forward to the one they would next offer. Barnaby Gill would have sat in on such a discussion as a rule but he had withdrawn to his room once more.
‘Who did throw that cat on to Barnaby’s chest?’ wondered Firethorn.
‘Not me,’ said Hoode. ‘Barnaby has endured enough as it is.’
‘Are we certain that it was not Giddy?’
‘Yes. Nick and I retired to the room with him. He did not leave it at all.’