The First Act

by Vanessa Mulberry

  Chapter Ten

  RICHARD HAD much to think on as they made their way to the bookshop.

  He’d met with the brute earlier in the day and given him the money. Walking away felt strange, but he soon relaxed when he got on stage and saw William. The lad reminded him he would be investigating later. For the first time in a decade, he was eager to engage in spy work. He’d never done it for his own benefit before. Now he understood the use.

  He thought too about William, who had surprised him yet again. What was a lad like him doing disguising himself and sneaking around London? His last apprentice had spied on him; had Bennett sent this one to do the same?

  He was suspicious for only a moment before he recollected the stuttering, would-be swain he’d met in the village. William was no spy, but spying apparently came naturally to him. Richard would have to watch him around Bennett.

  They walked together, but thankfully most people took no notice of them. William dressed in the same clothes he’d worn previously, while Richard disguised himself with a wig and a long cloak. A drizzle of rain allowed him to keep the hood up, and he was grateful for it.

  Only one person seemed to recognize them—a street seller, peddling leeks, who called “Hoy!” to William as if he knew him. William ignored the lad and walked on, head down, but he stole a glance back when they were farther up the road.

  “You walked a long way,” Richard said when he judged them both to be a good distance from the bridge, mindful that it was getting late. He wasn’t frightened of being out after dark, but if they were walking into a trap, he would prefer to escape from it in daylight.

  “It’s not far,” William replied. “Just around this corner.”

  Richard stopped, catching William’s arm and pulling him to the side of the road. “That’s Fleet Street. Go check it is the right place and then return to me here.”

  “I don’t need to check. I know it’s the right place,” William huffed. He seemed offended by the suggestion he was wrong. “I may have only been here once, but I took note of my surroundings. I didn’t just come to satisfy my own curiosity. I thought it might be important to you.”

  It was, and Richard was grateful. “In that case, your job is done.” His tone was appeasing if not his words. “You may return to the inn, and I will meet you there later.”

  William grinned mischievously. “I’m not leaving now the interesting bit is about to begin. Anyway, what if you need my help? I didn’t bring you here to abandon you.”

  “And I didn’t bring you here to endanger you. Get home while it’s still light.”

  William’s eyes narrowed, lips pouting into a sulk. “You cannot make me leave. You owe me the chance to stay and see what’s happening. You wouldn’t even know about this if I hadn’t come here yesterday.”

  That was true. Richard hated to admit it, but he was impressed with William’s courage and ability.

  Where did he learn that?

  “What exactly were you doing, coming here yesterday? Do you often follow people?”

  William turned a faint pink at the suggestion. “Not often, but this isn’t the first time. I came to help you, though I must admit I am often curious.”

  “You are that.”

  William’s blush grew hotter. “I thought I was doing you a favor. I won’t bother doing that again.”

  “You have helped me, and I am grateful.” Richard felt a little guilty that he’d not properly acknowledged the value of William’s work. “I’ll pay you for this information when I get back to the inn this evening, and let me thank you now for what you have done. Now please, you must go.”

  He expected the lad to march off, annoyed, but William remained. He was defiant and even a little mocking as he asked, “And what will you do? Walk into the shop and demand your money back?”

  “I am a touch more subtle than that.” Richard felt the sting of William’s words. In truth, he hadn’t concocted a plan because he was walking into the unknown, but that didn’t make him stupid. He thrived in situations that would ruin other men.

  “You are their victim, and probably the most recognizable man in London,” William argued. “I’m just a customer. I already told the shopkeeper I’ll be back today for a chapbook. I can enter unheeded.”

  That was undeniably useful, but getting inside was the easy bit. William would need a better idea if he wanted a chance to prove himself. Now it was Richard’s turn to bite. “So you will go in, buy your book, and leave?” he asked, every bit as scornful as William had been.

  William paused. Clearly he’d not thought beyond that.

  Richard decided to save his embarrassment. “Listen. If I was to let you in there—and I’m not saying I will—I would need you to look for evidence of who organized this. Check his table; look for papers, receipts, anything that could be connected to me. The bookseller will be the link between our man and whoever ends up with the purse. We just need to find the end of the chain.”

  “But why use a bookseller as a go-between to collect a gambling debt? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “That’s right, which is our first clue that this is more than it seems. So, who would use it? A bookshop is the sort of place the highest class can frequent as often as they like without raising suspicion. It’s a good place to leave a note for someone you don’t want to be openly associated with. Men like you might go in for a chapbook or a Bible.”

  William was still frowning. “You mean men like us?” he asked, sounding slightly affronted.

  “Didn’t I say that? Not that it matters.”

  William didn’t look convinced but was thankfully willing to let it go. “So you think there’s a noble who wants thirty pounds from you?” he asked incredulously. “Seems unlikely.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? The money’s unimportant, I think. It’s where I got it from that they will be interested in. I’m not convinced I was the target.”

  They set off again in silence. Richard could see William was determined, but he felt nothing but shame at using the lad for his own ends. It went against his instinct to protect his apprentice, but at the same time, his own interest selfishly pushed him on. He’d told Bennett he wouldn’t investigate, but given this information, he must. If Bennett was the target, and it seemed all the more likely given the go-between, Bennett might not be able to trust his men. Richard felt compelled to help him.

  The bookshop might even be a dropping point that Bennett used. Richard was aware he visited such places to message other men in their trade. For the most part, Bennett maintained his distance from his associates, but Richard had been a special case when they met, and his celebrity since meant no one batted an eyelid at their association. If Bennett visited him in a rough inn, that meant little to society. Richard was an actor. Where else would they meet?

  Richard stopped at the corner and looked onto Fleet Street. William walked on, and Richard was aware this was his last chance to send his apprentice back to the inn.

  He never felt good about using men, but he’d done it enough in the past to protect Bennett. They were just men he’d met along the way, most of whom didn’t deserve his care. William was different.

  Richard had to make a choice—protect the young apprentice he liked so much, or let him go to save the master he’d both loved and loathed over the years. He remembered the pleasure he’d brought the lad that morning, the smile on William’s face, the flush on his cheeks, and the warmth he’d felt in his breast in return. He really did like William.

  Then he thought of the way Bennett had held him and of the scraps of affection he’d handed out. Last night it had been just enough, but this morning, Richard was less sure when he woke up with William in his arms. Holding the young man felt good physically and spiritually. Better than good, even—although he fought the sensation, it felt right.

  As he watched William walk up the street, Richard realized he didn’t want to go to Bennett that night. There was someone else he would much rather be with.

  But
it was too late, he had considered too long, and now he couldn’t stop William without drawing attention to them both. Taking up a spot on the corner, he watched and waited while the lad approached the shop.

  He would give William a little time to work, but then he was going in after him.

  WILLIAM WALKED toward the bookshop without a backward glance to Richard, who he was aware had fallen behind. As he stepped inside and shut the door, he stole a look around and saw his master stood on the corner, watching and waiting.

  When he arrived the previous day, he had been nervous, and today was no different. His heart thumped and his stomach clenched into a knot as he stepped inside. Yesterday he had no idea what to expect or what he might do, but today, having half a plan in place seemed to make the task all the more difficult.

  He dipped his head politely to the bookseller and went straight to the chapbooks again. He needed to find a way of distracting the shopkeeper so he could search for clues. Before he could light upon an idea, the man was next to him.

  “Hollo again, my boy. Can I help?”

  William thought on his feet. “I’m looking for a gift for my sweetheart,” he said, indicating the books.

  “Ah, a girl,” the bookseller replied. He was an elderly man and didn’t appear in any way threatening. If William hadn’t known the company the man kept, he wouldn’t have been worried by him at all.

  “Yes, that’s it, a girl. She’s a pretty one,” he added hastily.

  “I’m sure she is. She must be clever too. Not many girls can read.”

  William didn’t think his heart could pump any faster, but now, having been caught in his lie, he couldn’t stop it. Outwardly, however, he maintained absolute calm.

  “She is clever, and she’ll be able to read perfectly when I’ve finished teaching her. I thought perhaps you might have a romance or a comedy? Nothing that would shock, but if it put her in the mood to kiss me, I wouldn’t be unhappy.”

  They talked for a while about the different books laid out on the table. William was aware of time passing, yet he made no attempt to search the place. He had no idea how to get rid of the bookseller, who was unlikely to leave the shop floor unattended and step into the back while William was there.

  In the end, the solution came to him naturally, as they had discussed every chapbook on display. “Is this all your stock?” he asked. “I’m not sure she would like any of these, but I must get her a gift. Is there nothing more out the back?”

  The bookseller looked suspicious and asked, “How much do you have to spend?”

  “I’ve tuppence on me for a pamphlet, no more than that.”

  “Give me the money.”

  William handed it over, hoping he could get it back from Richard later, and watched the bookseller go over and lock the door.

  Now he felt real panic. “What are you doing?” he demanded, fear in his voice. “Why are you locking me in?”

  The old man looked amused. “I don’t want you running away with anything while I’m out the back. What do you think I will do?”

  “I don’t… I’m not sure. I just don’t like being locked in.”

  “And I don’t like being robbed. I will be as quick as I can.”

  The shopkeeper disappeared behind a curtained door, and William listened and waited patiently until he heard him step away from it a minute later and go farther into the back room.

  Finally he saw his chance. William hurried silently to the bookseller’s worktable, where he found a map of the New World. He lifted it up carefully and underneath discovered a bundle of receipts.

  William could only hope what he needed was near the top of the pile. He quickly checked through those near the surface but found nothing. After returning them to the table, he shifted the map and saw a leather-bound notebook full of loose papers, overfull and unfastened. After glancing toward the curtain, behind which he could hear the old man muttering and moving boxes, he quickly reached beneath the map and opened the book. There on top was a sheet of superior-quality paper, folded down the middle. He nudged it open and knew immediately that he had his evidence.

  Only two words were written on it—Spurre Inn.

  Before he could grab the paper, a fist banged on the shop door. William gasped, knowing he had been spotted prying. He spun around to find Richard at the window, still cloaked.

  The bookseller snatched back the curtain and started when he saw William stood by the table. William held his breath, but then the shopkeeper saw the hooded figure and narrowed his eyes, muttering blasphemies under his breath.

  Approaching the door, he shouted, “Are you a customer or a messenger?”

  “Messenger,” Richard shouted back in a husky foreign accent, head down so his face couldn’t be seen.

  “Then come back shortly,” the bookseller replied. He turned and left Richard standing in the window.

  William chuckled, seeing the bookseller roll his eyes as he walked away.

  “He can wait until we’re done,” the bookseller said. Then he spotted the map William had been looking at.

  “That’s not a place for a man with a sweetheart,” he advised as he walked out the back again.

  William looked back to find Richard gone from the window. He quickly lifted the map, grabbed the note, and stuffed it into his doublet before continuing to peruse the Virginia coast until the old man reappeared.

  “Here,” the man said as he stepped out onto the shop floor with a slim book. “Venus and Adonis. Just teach her the filthy bits, or better yet, read her the lot and let her think she must chase you.”

  William looked the booklet over as if he was genuinely interested before saying, “Thank you. I’ll take it.”

  The bookseller thanked him for his custom, unlocked the door, and let him go.

  William had to fight not to run from the building. He walked at a fair pace back toward Richard’s corner while his whole body throbbed. This was the same rush he’d experienced when he left the stage after their first kiss—the thrill of having done something forbidden and got away with it. It was exhilarating.

  He walked past Richard and continued around to the next street, unsure if he was being followed. He daren’t look back and kept moving forward, knowing Richard was behind him, probably holding back to check the same.

  William was at the bridge when Richard caught up with him, pulling him into an alley before they crossed.

  “You were forever in there,” Richard said, voice hushed. “I was worried about you. What was going on? Why was the door locked?”

  “He didn’t want me stealing anything while he was out the back. He even took my money in case I snuck something while he was gone.”

  “He sounds a sensible man.”

  “He was actually quite nice. I feel bad about thieving from him.”

  Richard’s eyes lit up. “You found something?”

  William beamed, unable to hide his excitement now. “Here.” He pulled the paper from his doublet. “It’s not much, but it is proof he’s involved as a go-between, just as you suspected. We can watch the building, see who comes and goes.” Handing Richard the note, he said, “Look, that’s our inn!”

  Richard took it from him and opened the paper. His happiness disappeared instantly.

  William waited, but Richard did not speak a word of thanks. Beginning to worry, William asked, “Is it not enough? I know we will need to do more work, but I hadn’t much time, and it was my first go. Perhaps I should go back tomorrow, tell the bookseller my sweetheart didn’t like the book. He might let me change it, and I can look for something else.”

  Richard continued to ignore him, still staring blankly at the paper.

  “Shall I go back tomorrow? Richard?”

  His master closed the note carefully and tucked it into his doublet. “You needn’t go back. This is all the evidence we need. I know who arranged this.”

  “How?”

  “I know the hand that wrote this note. My God, I know it better than my own.”
r />   “Whose is it?”

  Richard shook his head. William watched him struggle to get the words out, wishing he could help.

  Finally Richard spoke. “I have been set up by the man who paid so generously for my arse last night. This is the work of Bennett Goldfox.”

  Chapter Eleven

  WILLIAM FROWNED, a mixture of confusion and anger on his face. “I don’t understand. Why would Bennett do that to you?”

  Richard knew the answer, but he wouldn’t share it with William.

  “I don’t know,” he muttered.

  “Did he say nothing last night?”

  Last night. Lord, how Bennett must have laughed at him when he left. Richard had thrown himself at his former master the way he had as a youth, shamed himself by revealing he was as softhearted and headed as ever, and then promised to come back for more tonight. He would be back, but it would not be for pleasure.

  “He said plenty last night, but none of it a clue to this. Let’s go back to the inn.”

  “But—”

  “And let’s do it in silence.”

  As they made their way back to the Spurre, Richard imagined everything he might say to Bennett that evening. He was angry, and he would make sure Bennett suffered under the torrent of his rage.

  Bennett had lied to and manipulated him in the past, but never did anything as calculated as this. The ruse could only have been designed to win his good favor at a time when they had been apart for so long Richard’s feelings might be expected to have cooled. Bennett needed him to be grateful.

  Back at the inn, Richard instructed William to change into his own clothes and then fetch the lines from Geoffrey. William did as asked without argument or comment, but Richard could see the concern on his face.

  Alone at last, he took up his bag and checked his purse. Fortunately he’d spent nothing of the five pounds Bennett gave him. He had a mind to keep it, given the trouble he’d been caused, but there would be satisfaction in returning it unspent. Besides, Bennett would have got the other thirty back. He might as well have the lot.