Kate Humble was among the mourners, holding back tears until the moment when they all moved away from the graveside. When he observed her slipping behind some yew trees to weep in privacy, Nicholas went after her to offer some consolation. As soon as she saw him, she went gratefully into his arms. He waited until her sobbing ended.
‘I have something for you, Kate,’ he said, releasing her.
‘You’ve already let me choose a keepsake from Giddy’s belongings.’
‘This is not a keepsake.’
‘Then what is it?’
Nicholas put money into her hand. ‘His wages.’
‘Oh, no,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I’ll not take his money.’
‘Giddy would have wanted you to have it.’
‘But he told me that he had to repay a debt to you for getting him out of prison.’
‘That debt was settled by his death. Take the money.’
Kate stared at the coins. ‘This is more than I can earn in a month.’
‘Then use it to buy something that will remind you of Giddy.’
‘Oh, I will, sir. I will. Thank you.’
‘Thank you, Kate. In telling me the truth about what happened at the Blue Anchor, you were a great help to me. It was good to know that it was Giddy who set Master Gill adrift in the creek.’
‘I told a lie,’ she confessed. ‘Master Gill will be furious with me.’
‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘That incident was buried with Giddy. I’ve said nothing to Master Gill or to anyone else. There is no reason for them to know.’
After heaving a sigh of relief, she leant forward to kiss him on the cheek before hurrying off on her own. Nicholas rejoined the others as they walked back to the Blue Anchor. Wheeled along by George Dart, Gill was explaining to all who would listen why Mussett was such a worthy rival of his. The untimely death allowed Gill to speak of him with a measure of respect and even a degree of affection. Nicholas did not wish to change that benign view of the dead man by telling Gill who had been responsible for the three cruel jests at his expense.
When they got back to the inn, they found Sebastian Frant waiting to wave them off. Firethorn was disappointed to see that Thomasina was not with him.
‘Where’s that divine creature you call a daughter?’ he asked.
‘Thomasina is at the cottage with her uncle and aunt.’
‘I was hoping for a farewell kiss.’
‘Then do not expect it from me, Lawrence,’ said Frant with a smile. He looked around the sad faces. ‘Was the funeral distressing?’
‘Very distressing,’ confided Firethorn. ‘Giddy was a rare fellow. I’ve not known anyone make such a lasting impression in such a short time.’
‘He certainly made an impression in Cupid’s Folly.’
‘He’d have done so in any play, Sebastian. He’s a huge loss.’
‘But it was swiftly repaired when Barnaby came to your aid.’
‘That was Nick’s invention. Like most things of consequence in this company.’
‘He even pressed me into service again.’
‘You can be our scrivener at any time you choose.’
‘A tempting offer,’ said Frant, holding up a palm, ‘but one that I must refuse. I am retired, Lawrence. I’m learning the joys of not having to work for a living any more.’
Firethorn grimaced. ‘If only I could do that, Sebastian,’ he sighed. ‘But there’s no release for me. I must go on and on until I expire on stage.’
‘That will never happen. You will act for all eternity.’
‘Save me from that — please!’
After shaking his hand, Frant went off to say goodbye to his other friends in the company. Gill, Hoode and Elias were especially sorry to take their leave of him. They appreciated the value of a meticulous scrivener. The last in line was Nicholas Bracewell. There was a warm handshake.
‘When do you set off, Nick?’ asked Frant.
‘Within the hour.’
‘Glad to shake the dust of Faversham from your feet, I daresay.’
‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘There were happier memories along with the one that has cast a shadow over today. We had our success with The Foolish Friar.’
‘It was more than a success, Nick. It was a triumph.’
‘Your daughter did not seem to think so.’
‘Thomasina liked it as much as I did.’
‘That was not the feeling that I had,’ said Nicholas. ‘Was there something in the piece that offended her?’
‘How could there be? It was harmless fun.’
‘Did she find it too bawdy, perhaps?’
‘Not at whit. The fault was not in the play, Nick. Thomasina had something else on her mind, as did I, and it came between us and full enjoyment. The doctor called to see my brother yesterday,’ he explained, ‘and I managed a word with him alone. The news is not good. According to the doctor, David has less than three months to live.’
Nicholas was upset. ‘I’m truly sorry to hear that. I so enjoyed meeting him.’
‘It made me feel guilty. I’ve neglected my brother shamefully. If it had not been for the fact that Westfield’s Men were coming to Faversham, I might not have seen him this time.’ He hunched his shoulders. ‘That is why Thomasina was distracted yesterday. Her thoughts were with her uncle.’
‘She strikes me as a compassionate niece.’
‘Oh, she is. Thomasina always puts others first.’
‘How long will you stay in Faversham?’
‘Until tomorrow,’ said Frant. ‘There’s a party travelling to Dover and we’ll join them for safety. We have commitments at home or we’d stay longer with David. So, my friend, we must part.’
‘Meeting you again was a happy accident.’
‘The happiness is all mine, Nick. I wish you well in Canterbury.’
‘Thank you,’ said Nicholas. ‘Shall we see you when we reach Dover?’
‘Yes, Nick. Thomasina and I will be there to watch you.’
‘We’ll count on you.’
‘Tell that to Lawrence,’ said Frant, glancing at Firethorn. ‘He looks as if he is in need of cheering news. When you play in Dover, you will have at least two spectators.’
Westfield’s Men set out from Faversham with some trepidation. With its uncomfortable memories, the Blue Anchor was an inn that they were glad to leave but the open road held even more danger for them. One assault on them had already taken place. They feared that a second, more deadly attack might come. Firethorn did his best to dispel their anxiety by riding at the head of the column with his sword in his hand. Armed and alert, Owen Elias brought up the rear on his horse. At Nicholas’s suggestion, the wagons kept much closer together than before so that one of them could not be picked off with such ease. The book holder drove the first wagon, carrying the apprentices and some of the baggage with him. Seated beside Nicholas was Edmund Hoode, who felt too exposed on his donkey so he had tethered the animal to the wagon.
It was a cloudy day but there was no imminent threat of rain. They rumbled along the well-worn track that pilgrims had taken in earlier days. Hoode took note of that.
‘How many feet have come this way, Nick?’ he wondered.
‘Far too many to count.’
‘The shrine of St Thomas was the most popular in England.’
‘Rightly so, Edmund.’
‘There are tales of wondrous miracles being performed there.’ He looked nervously around. ‘We could do with one ourselves.’
‘What sort of miracle did you have in mind?’
‘One that put us safely in the middle of Canterbury.’
‘We’ll get there in due course,’ said Nicholas.
‘But will we arrive in one piece?’
‘I am sure that we will. There are too many of us to tempt highwaymen and we are too vigilant to be caught in an ambush again. Rest easy.’