‘Barren and insulting.’
There was a long pause. ‘I’d like you both to leave.’
‘Will you not come to the defence of your faith?’
‘It’s a purely private matter.’
‘Not when it leads to the murder of two people and the kidnap of a third.’
She was genuinely shocked. ‘Murder? Kidnap?’
‘The kidnap may have become another murder by now,’ explained Nicholas. ‘When I said that Lawrence Firethorn was indisposed this afternoon, I was concealing the truth. He was abducted in Dover and we’ve not seen him since.’
‘But who could want to abduct him?’ she said with alarm.
‘I think that you might be able to tell us that.’
‘On my honour, I could not!’
‘Are you certain?’
‘I admire him greatly, as you know.’
‘Except when he played in The Foolish Friar.’
‘I’m truly horrified to learn that he’s been kidnapped,’ she said earnestly. ‘I’d swear as much on the Holy Bible.’
Nicholas got to his feet. ‘Would that be a Roman Catholic Bible?’
Her manner changed at once. The polite and reserved young woman revealed another side to her character. Crossing to the door, she snapped her fingers and the servant appeared at her side, holding a musket with the air of someone who had used the weapon before. Thomasina’s eyes were cold and unforgiving.
‘Escort these gentlemen off our property,’ she ordered.
‘Yes,’ he said, glaring at the visitors. ‘Out!’
Nicholas ignored the command. Instead, he walked across to the oak chest and ran his hand over its ornate carving. Then he examined the chair that had been embellished so strikingly by a woodcarver. Nicholas sat down in it and stroked the arms. The servant came over to him and pointed the musket at his chest.
‘Get up!’ he snarled.
‘But it’s such a beautiful chair,’ said Nicholas, leaning back, ‘and of a piece with that magnificent chest. Both were carved by the same man, were they not? I’ll wager that I’ve admired his handiwork before. It was on a lectern I saw in the hold of a ship called the Mermaid.’ He looked at Thomasina. ‘Is that what you were doing in the harbour that day? Sending some church furniture abroad? For that’s where this chair and that fine chest came from, I suspect. They’re too elaborate for the taste of Protestants. My guess is that they are the work of a Catholic woodcarver.’
Daniel jabbed him in the chest with the barrel of the musket but Nicholas was ready for him. Knocking the weapon upward with his arm, he kicked out both feet to trip the servant up. As the man fell backward, the musket went off and its ball lodged itself harmlessly in the ceiling, sending down a flurry of plaster. Before Daniel could move, Nicholas wrenched the weapon from his grasp and Elias leapt from his seat to hold a dagger at the servant’s throat. Nicholas strolled back to Thomasina.
‘It’s all over now,’ he warned. ‘Further denial is pointless.’
‘I know nothing of murder and kidnap,’ she cried.
‘I believe you, Thomasina.’
‘Nor does my father. He’d never stoop to such things.’
‘He may not be the person you think him. Sebastian certainly misled us. And so did you,’ he went on. ‘I thought you a decent, honest, God-fearing person with pride and self-respect. Yet you are too ashamed of it even to declare your faith.’
‘No,’ she rejoined vehemently. ‘I follow the Old Religion with a dedication that you could never even understand. We’ve withstood scorn, ignominy and persecution for many years now and we are still unbowed. Yes, Master Bracewell, I was upset when we saw that house in Faversham because it was a symbol of the vicious cruelty visited upon the Roman Catholic Church.’
‘And The Foolish Friar?’
‘It was an unjust attack on our beliefs. I hated listening to that raucous laughter at our expense. Father took me there to see what we were up against in the theatre. The friar was held up as an object of derision and loathing. For two long hours I suffered as I watched you sharpening your blades on the only true religion.’
‘Only true religion? Not in England.’
‘Here and anywhere else,’ she said defiantly. ‘We’ll never be conquered.’
‘Then you should not have given yourself away,’ said Nicholas. ‘Was my guess correct?’ he added, glancing at the chest. ‘Did that begin life in a church?’
‘Yes, and it will be returned to one soon.’
‘Where?’ asked Elias, hauling the servant to his feet.
‘That’s something you’ll never know.’
‘We mean to find out,’ said Nicholas, as realisation dawned. ‘Come, Owen. We must away. I think I know where Sebastian is. He’s waiting to sail to France with a cargo of furniture. We must try to get to him in time.’
Lawrence Firethorn could not understand the kindness that he was receiving. Having been battered to the ground, he was now being cared for by tender hands. Someone was bathing his face to remove the blood from the gash in his scalp. The man said nothing but he was showing true compassion. When the dried blood had been washed away, a strip of linen was tied around the head to cover the wound. Firethorn wished that he was in a position to express his thanks but the ropes, gag and blindfold were severe restraints. He heard voices shouting above and the sound of activity as the anchor was hauled up. When the wind hit the sail, there was a flap of canvas and the Mermaid moved forward with loud creaking noises. Firethorn was disturbed.
After a last look at him, Sebastian Frant stifled a sigh of regret and slipped away.
When they reached the harbour in Dover, the Mermaid was just beginning to move away from the bay. Elias was dismayed but Nicholas did not give up so easily. With the Welshman at his heels, he spurred his horse in the direction of Dover Castle. Their names were enough to get them admitted instantly to Lord Westfield’s apartment. Resting on a couch after his journey, their patron gave them a wave of welcome.
‘I bring good tidings from London for you,’ he said.
‘That’s more than we can offer you, my lord,’ said Nicholas.
‘I had word from the Queen’s Head. That imbecile of a landlord has recognised his folly and wants Westfield’s Men back again. Break the news to Master Firethorn.’
‘We cannot do that until we find him, my lord.’
‘No,’ said Elias. ‘We do not even know if he is still alive.’
Lord Westfield was aghast. ‘What’s this? Has he disappeared, then?’
Nicholas was succinct. He gave enough detail to show how serious the situation was but did nothing to impede the action that was necessary. Their patron was horrified at what he heard but could not see how he could help.
‘This ship has set sail, you say?’
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘Sebastian Frant is certainly aboard. It may even be that Master Firethorn is there as well. We need to overhaul them, my lord.’
‘Even you cannot swim that fast,’ said the other with a feeble smile.
‘A faster vessel must be dispatched. Only my Lord Cobham could sanction that.’
‘Then it shall be done!’
‘Will you speak with him on our behalf?’
‘No, Nicholas,’ said the patron, ‘you’ll do it much better yourself. Acquaint him with the villainy that’s taken place and the Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports will be only too willing to oblige you. Lawrence Firethorn kidnapped? Mercy on us! The future of my theatre company is at stake. You shall have your ship from my dear friend.’
‘There’s another favour I must beg of him, my lord.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I wish to sail in the vessel,’ said Nicholas.
Sebastian Frant was not capable of expressing the deep anger that he felt. Instead of being furious with his bearded companion, he sounded merely petulant.
‘There was no need to belabour him like that,’ he complained.
‘He had the gall to spit at me.’
‘Then you must have provoked him.’
‘No,’ said the man. ‘I offered him cheese and he spat it in my face. Nobody does that to me with impunity.’