The First Act

by Vanessa Mulberry

  “I took him on as a favor to Geoffrey. He’s his cousin.”

  “Oh.”

  At once Bennett wrote William off, and his dismissive tone annoyed Richard. Despite his better judgment, he found himself boasting. “He doesn’t look like Geoffrey. He’s incredibly handsome.”

  “That’s not unlike you at all, then, apart from the timing. You normally let the sheets cool first.”

  “I’m not heartbroken, if that’s what you’re thinking. A little disappointed, but I was under no illusions about Nick. You must have known he wasn’t interested in any more than the money when you introduced us.”

  Bennett gave a small nod, the slightest acknowledgment of the truth. “You were together so long I assumed tender feelings must have grown between you.”

  Only friendship, and Nick had spat on that when he stole and he lied. The bawds didn’t help. Richard didn’t fancy a dose of the pox and rarely stooped to the stews himself. He’d expected the same of Nick.

  “You know two years is not long for an apprenticeship, and Nick would have had another three if he’d respected me enough to be honest with me. I’m sure this new one will last longer than that.”

  Bennett sipped his drink, and Richard ignored him as best he could. He didn’t want to be openly rude, but Bennett must know he was not welcome. Richard had spent his plague-enforced exile trying to forget him, but here he was, acting as if they’d never been apart. It annoyed Richard, and he ignored the tiny corner of his heart that was pleased to have been sought out. After so long apart, Bennett should have forgotten him. It would have made things much simpler.

  “So what is he like?” Bennett asked.

  Richard had already admitted William was attractive and was now regretting it. “He’s fresh out of the country,” he said casually. “Looks, manners, charm…. It won’t last long in London.”

  “Not living here,” Bennett commented, then took a sip of his wine, trying to hide his amusement with the cup. When he put it down, he asked, “Can I meet him?”

  Richard busied himself with the last of his food. “There’s no point,” he said, cutting into a stewed apple. “I might be kicking him out tomorrow if he performs terribly.”

  “On the stage or between the sheets?”

  “I’m not getting involved with another apprentice. Not after the mess Nick left us in. You know what that’s like.”

  Bennett nodded again, and Richard could not meet his eyes.

  “You didn’t have to release him,” Bennett said gently, as if he spoke to a child. “And it’s not too late to take him back. He knows he did wrong, and I doubt he will frequent the brothels again. I suspect he will even be a little more affectionate, if that is what you need. I could arrange it and pay his keep.”

  All Richard needed from Bennett was to be left alone, and that comment confirmed it. “I did not release him for sleeping with whores. I let him go for stealing from the company. He had to leave, and the other sharers won’t want him back, no matter what incentives you provide. Now, I’ve got to go test the new lad on his lines.”

  Richard left the table without a good-bye and returned to his room with his heart pounding. They had met more than fifteen years ago, but Bennett still possessed the power to shatter his confidence.

  Upstairs he found William seated at the table by the window, eating and drinking while he pored over the script in the fading light. He’d donned his stockings and breeches, no doubt because one servant had seen him naked and he didn’t want to risk another, but he had left his shirt off. The air was cool and he looked cold, but Richard wouldn’t make him cover up. The sight of his chest was just the right amount of flesh. Richard could endure and enjoy the view without desiring any more from the young man.

  William gave him an inviting smile. He nodded to indicate a second stool, which he’d placed next to himself.

  Richard moved it to the other side of the table before he sat. “Do you know your lines yet? I’m about to build the fire if you need more light.”

  “I think I’ve got it, though you might need to confirm a few words for me, and I’ll need my cues,” William replied as he scanned the page again.

  William’s speed was impressive, but Richard didn’t show it. Some days his new apprentice would need to learn his lines even faster, and with ten different plays being staged over the next two weeks, he would have to get used to the pace.

  Indicating the modest platter, Richard asked, “Do you need more food and drink? Country appetites seem to be so much larger than here in London, and a yeoman’s son must eat well there.”

  “I am satisfied. The only thing I miss is our family honey.”

  “We all long for something sweet occasionally.”

  A knock at the door interrupted them. Assuming it was Geoffrey again, Richard rose and went to the fireplace. “Come in!” he shouted as he threw some wood onto the cold hearth. “I was just about to ask you for a spill.”

  The door opened, and Bennett chuckled. “Richard, we have known each other a long time. When have you ever known me to carry a flame?”

  The words bruised, but Bennett’s appearance at his door was much worse. Richard should have known better than to think Bennett would respect his wishes and leave him be. Downstairs he had been polite, the public setting holding his tongue, but this was an insult, and he would respond to it. “What are you doing here?”

  Bennett looked upon William with obvious appreciation. “I’ve come to greet your new apprentice. He’s comely, just as you promised.”

  Richard glanced at William, who’d stood to greet their guest. William smiled at Richard rather than Bennett, blushing at the compliment, although it hadn’t come from Richard’s lips.

  “I told you not to come up here,” Richard snapped, turning his attention back to Bennett.

  “Yes, but I thought you might want my help. You have often needed it in the past. Besides, I’m sure there are a few things I can teach him.”

  Jealousy joined anger in Richard’s breast. “He is learning lines. There’s no need for any assistance from you.”

  “And what does he have to say on the matter?” Bennett gestured to William, who stood silently.

  Richard was grateful William knew better than to speak before he was asked, even if he was the one being discussed. “Answer him, lad, but talk little, as we’ve work to do.”

  William hesitated only a moment, and then, lowering his eyes, he said, “I thank you for your interest, sir, but my master’s teaching is adequate.”

  It wasn’t the most glowing review Richard had ever received, but adequate would do. “There you have it. Now you may leave.”

  Bennett remained unfazed. He always put on a good show, even when he was under the deadliest of threats, and this would be a mere trifle to him. “I will go, but not until I am sure your apprentice speaks for himself rather than his master.” He stepped toward William and looked over his body admiringly.

  William kept his eyes turned to the floor, and Richard could tell the gesture was born from unease as much as deference now.

  Bennett treated William like an animal he intended to bid for at auction—circling him, checking him from all angles, and nodding approval when he saw something he liked. “Does he even know what he is turning down? Can he tell where my interest lies? Has he considered how I would have him lay?”

  William looked up, alarmed, and Richard stepped between the two of them, putting his hand on his dagger.

  “You cannot buy this one.”

  It was no threat at all. “Why not?” Bennett sounded genuinely confused. “You don’t want him. You said so yourself but a minute ago before you left me downstairs. And where will he sleep if not in your bed? If you’re going to be as generous with him as you were with Nick, then he ought to work for it.”

  “I asked you to leave,” Richard said firmly, hand still on the dagger.

  “As you wish, but first let me share the reason for my visit.”

  Bennett took his purse
from his belt and removed Richard’s ring from inside, proffering it to Richard. “Nick sold me this. I thought you might like it back.”

  “Keep it.”

  Bennett slipped the ring onto his finger and admired it as if he might keep it after all. When he removed it, he held it out to Richard again. “I always did like this ring, but I gave it to you in good faith once before, and I do so again now.”

  Richard couldn’t remember Bennett ever being good or faithful the last time he received it. “I care not for that trinket. I wouldn’t have given it to Nick if I did.”

  “You told him to pawn it. Are you honestly suggesting you had no intention of buying it back?”

  “None. I intended to send the ticket to you in case you wished to reclaim it.”

  Bennett’s ever-present smile faded, and Richard knew he’d hit his target. There was no glory in the victory. Despite himself, he wanted the ring, and it had cost him dearly to part with it.

  “You’re angry at me now, but I know it meant something to you once,” Bennett said quietly, putting it down on the table.

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Maybe your new apprentice would like it instead.”

  William found his voice before Richard could speak. “Thank you, sir, but I will accept tokens from no man but my master. My loyalty is to him alone.”

  His defiance matched Richard’s, and Richard turned around in surprise to look at him. William was breathing heavily, eyes blazing with anger. The stupid boy would get himself in trouble if he kept it up.

  Bennett wasn’t used to hearing that tone from anyone but Richard, and his face betrayed his bemusement. “Perhaps I was wrong,” he murmured, reappraising William. “You might have your money’s worth yet.”

  He left them alone.

  When he was gone, Richard could not stop himself from taking the ring and slipping it onto his finger. “Go get a spill from Geoffrey so we can light the fire. And put your shirt on.”

  William didn’t move. “Who was that?” he demanded.

  “An old friend.”

  “You weren’t very friendly.”

  Richard looked down at his ring. “That’s because I was trying to protect you.”

  “From what? Does he think I’m a whore?”

  “Not exactly. You weren’t offering, but he wanted to buy you.”

  “Pig,” William muttered. Richard found himself chuckling bitterly, but the lad still frowned. “How do you even know a man like that?”

  “There was a time when I called him master.”

  “He’s an actor?”

  “A goldsmith.”

  A dimple of confusion appeared on William’s brow. “You were training as a goldsmith, and now you’re an actor? That’s a bit of a step down, isn’t it?”

  Richard had fallen further than that. “Don’t we have work to do?” he asked irritably. “I told you to fetch a spill.”

  “But—”

  “I’m your master, William, not your friend, and you’re certainly not my confidant. Get the fire lit.”

  William snatched up his shirt and hurried out the door without a word.

  Richard felt a sliver of guilt and tried to let it go. He’d spent much of the afternoon pretending to be in a better mood than he felt, and he was tired. William should get used to that. But Richard remembered the man he was at twenty, and determined to do better by William than Bennett had done with him.

  Richard was a performer, quite used to feigning happiness when he felt misery. He wouldn’t let his apprentice find him so tense when he returned.

  Chapter Five

  GEOFFREY WELCOMED William in and offered a spill immediately, but William didn’t have the will to light it. Instead, he warmed himself by Geoffrey’s fire, in no hurry to return to Richard’s room. Geoffrey sat on a stool next to him, reading a chapbook in the firelight. When he reached the end of a page and William remained, he observed, “You’re in no hurry to return to your master. Are you no longer enamored of him?”

  William didn’t answer, posing a question of his own instead. “What sort of man is Richard?”

  “It’s a bit late to be inquiring now.”

  “I know, but I need you to tell me honestly what you think of him.”

  Geoffrey fidgeted in his seat and did not offer an answer straightaway. William was expecting the worst until Geoffrey confessed, “He has his share of faults, as all men do, but he has been a good friend to me, and he’s a real talent on the stage. You wouldn’t find a better man to instruct you, save myself, of course.”

  “But what sort of man is he?”

  “Not a bad one. I’ve known him fifteen years, and I’ve been in business with him for almost as long. He’s loyal and brave, and many times I have been proud to call him friend.”

  “Hmm.”

  Geoffrey heaved himself up from his stool. He put a strong hand on William’s shoulder in support. “Has he rejected you?” he asked gently.

  “He has neither sworn off me nor made love to me, but I’ve more than that to mind.”

  “Remember, William, he’s just a man. On the stage, he may have seemed a god, but here, in the least reputable inn in Southwark, you may see his lowliness.”

  William did not care about that. The company his master kept concerned him, but his ill temper had really stung. Hearing that Richard didn’t want him hurt most of all.

  Thanking his cousin, William lit the spill and left. In the hallway, he wondered if he should have mentioned the visitor, but he didn’t know the man’s name.

  Silently he entered Richard’s room and lit the fire. They both stood near the fireplace as they waited for it to take, and for a few minutes, neither said a word.

  Eventually, his tone conciliatory, Richard said, “We should rehearse your lines now.”

  So William buried his feelings and got on with it. Richard made only a few suggestions, and they ran through their scenes three times. He seemed pleased when they were done, all tension apparently forgotten, but William was unable to share his pleasure.

  When Richard went downstairs to fetch them some ale, William took the opportunity to learn a little more about his new master. He went first to the large trunk and dragged out the paints and costumes before he found a packet of papers underneath. He riffled through them hurriedly but found only plays and receipts. Quickly he replaced everything, glad the trunk wasn’t neatly kept, and then looked around for Richard’s personal effects, which he could not see. He was looking under the bed when Richard returned with the drink.

  “What are you doing?” Richard asked as he entered the room. He looked confused rather than suspicious.

  “Looking for a comb.”

  “Under the bed?”

  “Mine has broken teeth. I was looking for yours.”

  Richard handed him the tyg of ale and pulled back the chest to reveal his bag stuffed behind it. “Here,” he said, tossing the bag over.

  William rummaged inside. He could feel a leather wallet among the assortment of things, but he already knew he wouldn’t go back to it. If Richard trusted him enough to show him his hiding place, he must have little to hide, and nothing William felt in there was worth the risk of being caught. He took the comb and went to sit by the fire, where he ran it through his hair.

  Richard took a seat next to him, leaning back against the edge of the table. They both watched the flames.

  “You’re doing quite well, lad,” Richard offered. William assumed that to be high praise. “Do exactly as you did tonight at the performance tomorrow, and you will be fine. Are you nervous? It’s difficult speaking in front of a crowd.”

  William had been acting in plays since he was a small child and had never been nervous in his life until he was confronted with Richard. Even that passed when William set his mind to having him. Now he felt overwhelmed for the first time. He had believed he could do anything to get Richard’s heart, but after the evening’s events, he wasn’t so sure.

  “I’ll be fine
,” he replied numbly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Richard turn to look at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Richard snorted. “Terrible acting. You will have to do better.”

  “Nothing is wrong.”

  “Any more of that and I’ll release you too,” Richard continued playfully, but his voice wavered a little, and William could tell he was still on edge.

  “Nothing. Is. Wrong.”

  “That was the worst yet.”

  “Then release me,” William shot back, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  Richard took the comb from his hand. “All right. Geoffrey won’t like it, but if you leave now, then that’s not my fault. You are free to go. Thank you for wasting my time when I could have been training someone who does want this job.”

  William wanted to act and to live in London and to be with Richard. He just didn’t want any more of the treatment he’d received that evening. “I do want to be your apprentice,” he mumbled.

  “And yet you are so quick to quarrel with me,” Richard snapped, but he caught himself and suppressed his temper. He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out again slowly. “I’m sorry I was short with you before. It was not aimed at you. Bennett frustrates me.”

  So that’s the bastard’s name.

  “Why?”

  “He wanted to turn you into his whore. I didn’t like the way he spoke about you.”

  William hadn’t liked it either, although at first he’d enjoyed hearing he was comely. No one had ever told him that before, but he couldn’t admit that to Richard.

  “What do you care?” he muttered. “I have all but offered you a tumble, and you’re not interested. Should I have no man at all?”

  It was not a question William intended to have answered, but Richard replied, “There are men enough in this world that you do not need Bennett. I would like you to find someone as young and disposed to love as you are. Enjoy your youth. Don’t throw it away loving an old man like him, or me, for that matter.”