He held out a hand to William. “Get up behind me now!”
William scrambled up and wrapped his arms around Richard, who kicked the horse a second later. Then they were off at a pace, tearing through the streets while people leaped out of the way. He could hear Sam calling to him amid the commotion, but he couldn’t speak to reply.
Much to William’s surprise, Richard was an accomplished rider and steered them safely through at speed, shouting apologies to people as he passed near them but keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
William clung tightly to his waist and gripped the horse with his thighs. He daren’t look back, instead keeping his head down, face buried in Richard’s shoulder.
They seemed to be riding through the streets forever, but it could only have been minutes before they were in the countryside. William had no idea where they were, but he knew they’d not crossed the bridge so could not be on their way to Cambridge.
They came to a stop in the fields outside the city. When William didn’t relax his hold on him, Richard said, “You’re safe, I promise. No one is following us.”
William let go and slid off the horse, exhausted. He looked back down the road, and Richard was right—no one had come after them.
William slumped down to the ground, tired and miserable, but mostly frightened still. Burying his face in his hands, he babbled, “I don’t understand what is happening. I don’t understand why he would lie like that when he knows it could get me killed.”
Richard climbed from the horse and crouched down next to him. “Here,” he said softly as he reached into his bag. “I got some of that breakfast before I fell out with Bennett. Have a little—it will make you feel better.”
“Thank you.”
William took the food, though he wasn’t hungry at all. He nibbled at a piece of bread and drank a flask of ale in silence while Richard read through some papers.
When Richard looked up again, he appeared troubled.
“What is it?” William was unsure he actually wanted to hear the answer.
Richard held up some papers but didn’t pass them to him. “You’re getting what you want. We’re going to Cambridge.”
“You said the job was off.”
“It’s back on again now. I know Bennett, and this will all go away if I can get a copy of this list.”
Richard found the other flask in his bag and took a drink. He seemed so normal again, yet he’d risked his own life to save a man he’d met only days before. Some of the luster he had on the stage was back.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” William offered, full of regret for his choices. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in the room. I’ve been so stupid.”
Richard reached across and took his hand. “There’s nothing you could have done. Bennett would have found another way to get to you if it hadn’t been this. It is my fault. My loose tongue has been the problem right from the start.”
They both blamed themselves, as if the man behind all their troubles had done nothing wrong. William might have been stupid, and Richard had his past, but Bennett was the one who’d tried to ruin him.
“Why would he accuse me of theft? Was that about the bookseller’s note?”
“Unlikely, even if he does know you took it. He did it to punish us both, and to force me into doing his dirty work.”
“Like we’ll do it now,” William scoffed.
Richard let go of his hand and got up off the ground. Brushing himself down, he said, “You know a little of what is going on, and that makes you a threat to him. You can join Bennett, or you’re against him. We’ve got no choice now.”
“But why didn’t he just ask me?”
“He doesn’t care what you think about it. Everything he does, every word, or look, or gesture, is part of the game to him, and we are just the pieces he plays with. He knew he would win. Even if you agreed, I would not have done, but he must have known I would take you with me if I had to. This is probably what he’s wanted all along.”
“He’s not controlling us. What if you’d left me behind?”
“That was never going to happen.”
William dragged himself up and dusted his clothes down. Now the shock was wearing off, he was raging at the injustice of it. “I’ll not work for him,” he spat. “He’ll not have his way now.”
Richard stared at the ground, slowly shaking his head. William guessed he had said that himself often enough.
“You’ve no choice. Bennett always gets what he wants by any means necessary. He already has you.”
“But we do have a choice. We just don’t do the job. Let’s disappear for a few weeks, come back, and tell him we’ve done it. He can relax for now and suffer the consequences later.”
It seemed a reasonable enough proposition to William, but Richard continued to shake his head. “I’m angry at him—probably angrier than you are right now—but I’ll stab him in the heart myself before I let someone else get him in the back. Anyone bringing him down could easily take others with him.”
“Don’t talk to me about anger. That whoreson has accused me of theft, not you. He has put a death sentence on my head, not yours,” William bit back furiously.
Richard snatched the horse’s reins and held the animal tight. “Easy,” he said quietly, “easy,” though the horse was unruffled.
William knew it was for his benefit rather than for the horse.
“Only he can remove the charge,” Richard continued. “Don’t you think that’s a good reason to keep him alive?”
He was right, of course. “I think that’s the only good reason,” William relented.
“Come on,” Richard said wearily. “Let’s see if we can find a raft that will take the horse across the river. If not, we’ll be in for an even longer ride.”
He helped William up onto the hunter and climbed up behind him. “Take the reins. I will show you what to do. Hunters don’t ride like your farm mares.”
William felt the heat of his savior’s body at his back, and for a moment, things didn’t seem so bleak. He wasn’t alone. He was with Richard, the man who could make him do anything. The man who, it seemed, would do anything for him in return.
Richard wrapped his arms around William, then closed his hands over William’s as he held the thin leather reins.
William leaned back against Richard and tilted his head to the right. Richard seemed to understand the invitation and left a soft kiss on his neck.
“I will get you out of this mess,” Richard murmured against his skin. “You need never fear while you’re with me.”
William didn’t reply, but he was glad to have heard it.
Chapter Fifteen
EVEN WITH two riders, the horse could move at a fair pace. They trotted to the riverbank, and Richard managed to find a raft to take them across the Thames. He noted it was a brave beast, a little nervous of the uneven keel but not skittish. No wonder Bennett wanted it back.
They had time to catch up, and so rode at a comfortable pace for several hours before they could stop and rest the animal again. Mostly they were silent. William seemed lost in his own thoughts, and Richard let him be. William had to be frightened and confused by the morning’s events. Undoubtedly the lad was brave—foolhardy might have been a better description—but he could not have anticipated Bennett would make a false accusation against him. Richard wished he’d warned William that his former master did not fight fairly.
He also wished he’d shown more restraint when dealing with Bennett. How could he expect William not to behave the same? Now William had paid for it with a charge of theft, and Richard knew what being beholden to Bennett truly meant. This was the first time Bennett had resorted to fear to get what he wanted from Richard, and Richard could not hope it would be the last.
Occasionally his thoughts drifted back to Bennett’s admission. Love wasn’t a word that had ever been in Bennett’s vocabulary, even during the times Richard had been almost sure Bennett felt it. He’d laughed when, as a mere stripling, Richa
rd said it to him. That was another mistake Richard had made more than once.
Feeling rage well up in him, he focused instead on the task at hand.
The instructions were vague. A list was to be found in Trinity College, kept in the private rooms of a fellow of the college named Jacob Hobbes. There was no note of his background or what he taught, and nothing about the purpose of the list they sought to copy.
Bennett did include a paper with details of their associates he knew to be in Cambridge at present. Richard scanned it, aware some were friendlier than others, and was happy enough with the information. Now he could be sure whom he needed to avoid.
They were nearing Cheshunt, a small settlement at roughly the halfway point on their day’s journey, and he gently pulled the horse to a stop outside the village.
“I’ll get us a late lunch and some ales,” he said to William. “You take care of the horse and then come join me inside.”
Soon they were eating bowls of pottage and big hunks of dark bread. It was good, better than the food at the Spurre, and cheaper.
William had got his appetite back and gulped the food down. He was talking again too, chattering in a lively manner with the saucy serving wench who fetched their drinks and casually discussing the stage with Richard.
Richard wondered if William was as keen to get back to it as he was. “You seem in good spirits, considering your situation,” he noted when there was a brief lull in the conversation.
William shrugged, his mouth full of the soupy stew. He swallowed and said, “I did a lot of thinking as we rode. My life may well be quite a bit shorter that I assumed it would be. I’m going to take what comes to me while I can and enjoy it.”
Richard smiled at him. He was impressed by William’s resilience, which was far greater than his had been at that age. He also wondered exactly what William meant by “what comes to me” and, most importantly, whether the strumpet was involved.
“So you play with girls too?” he asked. He hoped he sounded lighthearted. Richard didn’t mind if William liked both men and women—many of his previous lovers did, and he knew that was natural enough—but the lad was making him possessive, and seeing William play with someone else provoked a jealousy he was ashamed of.
William let him suffer a moment, then replied with a wink, “Only for sport.”
They returned to the road, Richard leading the horse and William walking beside him. They would be on the stage now if they were in London, and William hummed some of the music played during the performance the day before.
“Missing your skirts?” Richard asked.
William gave him a lopsided grin. “Not the costume, no. I’m just wondering what they’re doing now we’ve abandoned them.”
“They will be fine. The company has coped with much worse.”
William nodded, though Richard knew he had no idea what that might be.
“What must Geoffrey think?” William asked.
“He will be cursing you, me, and Bennett too, probably.”
“I did not want to make him angry,” William murmured.
“I promise you, however angry he is when we return, it is only to hide his worry. You’re his family. He cares about you.”
Richard looked around. The road was busy, but there was no one close enough to hear them or notice much. He snatched up William’s hand, quickly kissed the knuckles, and dropped it again. That bought him a smile, and when their eyes met once more, he saw a hunger in the lad. Unfortunately this was not the time or the place to satisfy it.
“Don’t dwell on life in London,” he said, “neither your worries nor the pleasures. All your focus right now should be on staying safe until this job is over.”
William snorted quietly. “Is that actually possible when you’re spying?”
For some men, whose luck seemed limitless, but it was much harder for others. However, carelessness and bad luck generally went hand in hand.
Richard thought of the thud outside the door in Bennett’s house the previous evening. “Yes and no. Perhaps it is better if you are not involved.”
“But you said Bennett wanted me.”
“He does, but it’s likely he just wants you to spy on me in the long run, not anyone else. I can do this alone. There is no reason to put you at risk.”
“The biggest risk to me is if you fail, because I will have no one to help me when I have to do it for myself. Let me try. I’m getting used to being in charge of my own destiny, and I don’t want to give that up for good because of him.”
“All right,” Richard agreed, knowing that feeling well enough. “But if I feel you’re not ready, then I won’t let you go into the college. I’ll not lose you to save Bennett.”
“So the list is in a college?” William asked casually, ignoring the warning entirely.
Curiosity lit up his eyes. William may have realized the danger, but given fresh details, his interest still piqued. His love for adventure had been wounded, but it wasn’t yet dead.
“Yes, Trinity, in fact.”
“Never heard of it. What’s on this list anyway?”
“Names. I’ve no idea of the purpose.”
They walked on together for a while in silence. Eventually, William said, “You promised to tell me your past.”
“I did.” And there was no getting out of it now.
“Go on, then. How did you get into this business?”
That was a question Richard had asked himself many times over the years, and he never came up with a satisfactory answer.
“I’ve known Bennett since I was eighteen. He was a family friend, schooled alongside my older brother, John. When our father died, John bought me an apprenticeship in his workroom.”
“As a goldsmith? That must have been expensive.”
“It cost my entire inheritance. My father loved me, but I was the second son, and a wayward one at that. My brother had no idea of Bennett’s other profession, but I’ve always suspected he knew of his proclivities and put me there because he knew mine. Whatever the case, it was a good investment for the shame of the family. I trained for a year, but it can be delicate work, and I do not have gentle hands.”
“I like them well enough,” William interjected, giving him a wink.
“If only I had been your apprentice. Bennett was rarely there to see my progress, and he ignored his workmaster’s concerns. He had other things on his mind, and my brother was his friend. I think he believed I just needed time.”
Bennett had been unusually lenient, doubly so because Richard had not yet made known his desire for his master. Richard just knew that on the odd occasions Bennett visited the workshop, his heart beat with an intensity he’d never known. Better still, when Bennett looked at him, his whole body came to life. Something in him believed Bennett could sense it too. Perhaps that was why he’d been allowed to stay for so long.
“I was there a year before he was persuaded that I would not do. He called me to his home and offered me a new position spying for him. I accepted instantly, glad to get out of the workroom and into something that would pay handsomely and allow me to travel. He set up the playing company, Goldfox’s Men, to be my cover, and for two years I did many a job for him while the troupe played.”
“Why did it end?”
Richard bit his lip. Thirteen years had passed, yet he still felt the pain of it acutely. “The death of an enemy,” he murmured. “I loved spying when there seemed to be no consequences. That taught me it was not a game.”
William looked horrified. “You killed a man?” he whispered, looking around to make sure no one would hear.
It was a long time ago, and Richard had done what he had to do. He didn’t expect William to understand. “I defended myself,” he said simply. “One of us had to die that day. I’m not ashamed of winning a fair fight against a man who wanted me dead, but I knew I didn’t want to be in that position again.”
“So Bennett let you go?”
“I made myself useless. It didn’t las
t. I was almost twenty-one when I left his employ, and I’m thirty-four now. He always knew what to say to draw me back. Just as surely, he let me down afterward. I never learned.”
William looked down at the road. They walked for another minute before he asked, “Have you always been his lover? I can see no other reason for your loyalty to him.”
“Bennett comes and goes in my bed, always has. We were last together two years ago but fell out when the plague drove the company out of London. He asked me to choose between him and my men. There was no contest. No matter how much I cared for him, I couldn’t abandon them when they needed me the most. It was not the first time we argued. I’ve known him sixteen years, after all.”
“A lifetime.”
“It has felt like it on occasion. He took my virginity the night he recruited me as a spy. I think he only held back before for the sake of my brother. When he decided he could do nothing respectable with me, he did what he liked.”
“And you let him?”
“I wanted him to.”
William scrunched up his nose in distaste. “How can you love him? He may be handsome, but I think he’s one of the most repulsive people I’ve ever met.”
Richard couldn’t disagree with that. “I don’t love him,” he muttered. “Not anymore.”
“But you did, and for a long time too, I’d wager.”
“I was young enough, and stupid enough, to think myself in love with a man I barely knew. When I realized he was trouble, I was young enough, and stupid enough, not to care. Sound familiar?”
William’s face flushed, and Richard wished he hadn’t said it, but he couldn’t take it back.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that, and you were right,” William mumbled, eyes on the road ahead.
“About what?”
“I’m not in love with you.”
It was nothing Richard didn’t already know, and nothing he wouldn’t have encouraged, but he didn’t like to hear it now his own heart was committed. “A pity,” he said softly, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. “I was beginning to quite enjoy your tender heart.”
The First Act Page 16