The Rogue's Princess (14 page)

‘Most assuredly, sir.’ Rose gestured to the young player. ‘He is the cause of my being put out of my brother-in-law’s house.’

‘Oh, Kit,’ sighed Milly. ‘What have you done now?’

Tobias, unflustered by the scene before him, found a place
on the bench and began helping himself to food. Diego gave him a pointed look.

‘What?’ he cried innocently. ‘Doesn’t seem much I can do about it – Kit’s got the lady in trouble, you’re all upset with him as usual, end of story. I can’t see why that should stop me eating.’

Kit clipped his brother over the top of his head. ‘I didn’t mean to get the lady in trouble. I merely called on her family to ask to court Mercy, her niece – that’s the girl I told you about the other night, Milly. How that became cause for turning this good lady out of doors remains a mystery to which I would welcome an explanation.’ He turned to Rose and raised a questioning brow.

Rose had recovered from her initial surprise at meeting him so unexpectedly. ‘My brother took your pretensions ill, sir. He believes I have corrupted Mercy, making her easy prey to smooth-tongued fortune hunters.’

‘I’m not after her money!’ spluttered Kit. ‘Why must everyone think that?’

Rose couldn’t help smiling at the young man’s genuine indignation at the suggestion. ‘I know that, sir, but you must admit that it looks a plausible reason for a player, such as yourself, to court a rich merchant’s daughter.’

Tobias swallowed a mouthful of meat. ‘Face it, Kit, you are doomed to be misunderstood. Have something to eat.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help, either Mercy or yourself?’ Kit sank down on the bench beside Tobias.

‘For me? Nay, sir, I have fallen on my feet.’ She smiled at Silas who squeezed her hand under the table. ‘It is Mercy who should concern you. I fear the best you can do is leave her be.’

He shook his head, not even protesting as Tobias finished off the last slice of tart. ‘I can’t do that: I love her.’

Tobias choked. ‘Gads, Kit, you’ve fallen! I’ll never get a word of sense out of you again.’

‘Hold your peace and eat your food,’ said Milly to the lad, rather startling Rose because Tobias Lacey was clearly a young gentleman. However, he took correction from the seamstress in good part and returned to his meal.

‘Tell me, Mistress Isham, what I need to do to win her?’ Kit looked desperate.

‘There is nothing you can do to change my brother’s heart. You must know that he and his ilk are fiercely opposed to the theatres. As long as you continue a player, he will not let you darken his door.’

‘And if I stopped being an actor?’

‘
What?
’ squeaked Milly. ‘But, Kit, you love what you do!’

‘And he can’t do anything else,’ chipped in Tobias.

Kit ignored his brother’s serving of truth. ‘Would that sway him?’

Rose gave the player a sorrowful look. ‘I’m afraid, Master Turner, that you can never make yourself good enough for John. He loves his Mercy, don’t you mistake him, and only the most proper man, whose parents and grandparents had all been God-fearing folk, would do for her.’

‘You’re shot, Kit, you’d better face it,’ Tobias commented helpfully.

Kit put his head in his hands. ‘I’m not giving up. I’ve promised Mercy.’

Rose pitied the young man, secretly thinking this was a hopeless case and she wanted to let him down gently, let him
work out the impossibility for himself. ‘Then you have to offer her enough for her to risk leaving her father’s house. But, remember, she’s very young, only sixteen, and very sheltered up to this point. To break with her family would be a terrible step for her to take and she would have to be certain of a soft landing.’

Kit rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I can do that. I can be what she needs.’

Rose smiled wistfully at the young lover. ‘Then I wish you well. Mayhap, when his first anger has ebbed and if my brother allows Mercy to visit me in my new lodgings, you will be able to see her again. I would not press your suit just yet; the time is not ripe.’

‘Thank you, mistress. You are most kind. Where will you be living?’

‘She’s to be my housekeeper,’ announced Silas proudly.

‘Excellent. Then I need not feel so guilty about causing you to be pushed from your pretty nest on London Bridge.’

With that brighter prospect, Kit pulled his plate towards him and turned to the dishes still on the table. ‘’Swounds! Who’s eaten all the food?’

9

Over the next few weeks, Tobias found his brother very poor company. Kit was determined to save every penny he earned in the theatre and had begun making noises about ‘investments’ and ‘returns’ that all sounded too dull to contemplate. Kit had even gone back to the Belknap home to ask the goldsmith for financial advice and was considering taking a loan to purchase some land near the Lacey holdings in Berkshire – a good prospect that Will had brought to his attention in his latest letter of family news from his estate. Being the illegitimate brother of an earl made Kit’s credit good with the City merchants, particularly if he was buying on his brother’s doorstep.

‘Gads, Kit, you’re turning respectable,’ Tobias complained. ‘I’ve got two other brothers for that. I look to you to set me an example in dissolute behaviour.’

Kit only shrugged and went back to the sums he was working out on a piece of paper.

If it hadn’t been for Tom Saxon and his friends, Tobias would have counted his stay with his half-brother a disappointing affair. He became a fixture in their drinking circle, enjoying the riotous behaviour of Babington, Pilney and Gage. They had managed to get themselves barred from most
respectable taverns and had taken to supping in more dubious establishments near Love Lane. At times, Tobias got a little alarmed by their talk – Babington was a great admirer of the imprisoned Mary Queen of Scots whom he had met in his youth when he served the Earl of Shrewsbury – but on the whole they were good sorts, always happy to stand the out-of-pocket Tobias a round or two.

Tobias accompanied his brother home from the theatre one evening in March, spirits high from the successful performance, which he’d watched from the side of the stage, so close he had felt part of the action. They turned into Muggle Street and Kit gave every sign of intending to have another quiet night in. Tobias was having none of it.

‘Oh, come along, Kit, don’t be such a sobersides! You are acting as if you are ninety not nineteen! Mistress Mercy wouldn’t begrudge you a pleasant evening with a set of brave companions.’

‘I have some papers to read and a part to learn for the morrow.’

Tobias danced ahead to prevent him slipping into his lodgings. ‘What about your poor brother? Think of me, deprived of the good influence of my elder. You’ve hardly taken me anywhere since I came to stay.’

Kit put his hands on his hips and glared at Tobias. ‘Since you foisted yourself on me, you mean?’

Tobias feigned hurt. ‘Oh, cruel! You mean you don’t like having me to stay?’

‘I’m just wondering when Will is going to come and drag you back home. Isn’t there something you should be doing? Latin to study or law to learn?’

Tobias flinched at the unwelcome reminder. ‘How did you know he wanted me to join one of the Inns of Court?’

‘Simple. You do not seem suited to the church –’ they both smirked at that idea – ‘and I can’t imagine he’d want another brother to enter the military, not after what it did to Jamie; so that leaves the law. You could make yourself useful to him, you know – use that head of yours as more than a hat peg. It is an advantage to have a lawyer in the family.’

Tobias shuddered. ‘I know. But not yet. Today we live! Come down to the Creeping Fiddler with me, Kit. Babington’s promised a memorable night of entertainment.’

‘Wine, women and song, hey?’ Kit scratched the back of his head. ‘You’ve been going to the Creeping Fiddler? I thought you were drinking at the Two Necks?’

‘We were – until Pilney punched the innkeeper.’ Tobias mimed the stunned fall of the hapless host into a tray of drinks.

Kit shook his head. ‘Maybe I’d better come along and see what mischief you’ve been getting up to.’

‘Excellent. Leave your papers for tomorrow.’ Tobias hurried him past his door before he could think better of it.

Kit followed his little brother with a feeling of guilt settling on his shoulders. In his preoccupation to set himself up on a firmer financial foundation for Mercy’s sake, he had neglected Tobias. If he was now drinking in the Creeping Fiddler, there were two chief perils: firstly, brawls there often turned murderous and, secondly, a visit to the wenches left many a man with lingering effects that only a bath of mercury could cure.

‘Lacey!’ cried Babington when he saw the two brothers in the door. ‘Turner! Well met indeed.’

It was hard to see them through the fume-filled atmosphere. The chimney didn’t draw properly, leaving the drinkers to be smoked like herring. Kit’s eyes were already beginning to sting. Were people really supposed to enjoy themselves in this fug?

‘And you like it here?’ Kit murmured to Tobias. A few weeks ago he might have been impressed by the dangerous appeal of the place; now he found it dirty and loud. Kit laughed at himself, thinking how his little Puritan had begun to reform him whether she meant to or no.

He slid on to the bench next to Babington, keeping Tobias at his side.

‘Can you stand them a drink for me?’ Tobias whispered. ‘I owe them a few jugs.’

With a sigh, Kit took out coin and passed it to Tobias under the table.

‘You are my favourite brother,’ Tobias muttered fervently. ‘Jilly, bring us a jug of your best!’ he called proudly to the serving maid.

Babington snorted into his ale. ‘What’s this? Lacey-lack-coin is treating us? Oh rare!’ His companions cheered but Kit thought their good spirits were rather at Tobias’s expense than shared with him. He felt increasingly uncomfortable about the company into whose hands he had let his brother fall.

‘So, Turner, we’ve not seen you about much, apart from on stage that is,’ continued Babington.

‘I’ve been busy.’ Kit poured the ale, helping Tobias to only half a flagon, with a look daring him to say anything.

‘So Lacey here claimed. Tell me, do you see much of your other brothers?’

‘Nay, sir, we hardly move in the same circles.’ Having
missed dinner as an economy measure, Kit was ravenous so he tried a piece of the bread and meat on the table but quickly discarded it as inedible. Gads, there were weevils in the crust.

‘Your brother told me that Master James Lacey is an intimate of the Queen thanks to his good wife, the Lady Jane.’

The Queen’s name was not one to be bandied about lightly – and certainly not in a low dive like this. Kit was wondering if Babington was really a fool for all his hard slashing edge.

‘Aye, it is no secret that she is one of the Queen’s ladies.’ Kit didn’t like the direction of this conversation. One of his least favourite topics was his much lower social status than his legitimate brothers’.

‘But the earl is not particularly popular at court, I hear, at odds with the favourite, Ralegh.’

Kit took a gulp of ale. If this were the Creeping Fiddler’s best, then he would hate to taste its worst. Horse-piss might be more palatable. Swilling the flagon, he did not give Babington a response. The man was clearly well informed about the various branches of his family without him adding to the stock of knowledge.

‘Would you say he was content with the way Lord Burghley handled his estate during his minority? Most lords graze away the profits and leave but a barren pasturage behind.’

Kit took up the knife by his plate and began carving the crust from the bread to keep from having to engage in the conversation. How soon would they decently be able to make their excuses? Tobias had managed to attract a wench to his knee and was paying no heed to Babington’s interrogation. Kit sincerely hoped Tobias had better sense than to take the encounter further; the girl did not look a very fragrant specimen.

‘Do you think he would be a supporter of change?’ Babington leant back, determined this time to wait for an answer.

Kit put the knife down, crumbling the bread from his fingers. ‘My brother is a loyal subject, sir.’

‘To the Crown, as we all are. The legitimate holder of the Crown, whomsoever that be in future?’ Babington bent closer, his breath soured with ale. ‘We have the Scottish queen wrongly imprisoned – what thinks he of her?’

It was time to leave. This talk was verging on treasonous. ‘Tobias, we have to go.’ He hauled his brother up, dislodging the maid from his knee. ‘Give her a penny for her pains, then we must depart.’

Furious to have his dalliance halted in its tracks, Tobias rounded on his brother. ‘Why, Kit? Has your lady got such a grip on your bollocks that you can’t be seen with us sinners?’

‘Don’t be such a bloody idiot!’ hissed Kit.

‘They’ll think we’re killjoys!’

‘I don’t give a damn for their opinion. If you had half a wit, you’d realize what they’re about.’ He turned to the rest of the table. ‘My brother’s taken ill, sirs; I bid you good even.’

‘He looks fine to me,’ muttered Saxon.

‘Enjoy the ale.’ Kit firmed his grip on Tobias and dragged him from the room.

Tobias tried to squirm free, but Kit was determined and had the stronger fist. They stumbled out into the alley, Kit stepping ankle-deep in some unspeakable mire that did nothing to improve his mood.

‘You’re about as much fun as a frost in spring,’ Tobias grumbled. ‘I don’t know what’s come over you.’

Kit only let go when they reached Wood Street. ‘I’m
suffering from an excess of good sense. I pray you be struck down by the same infirmity. If you hadn’t noticed, Babington was flirting with treason in there. What have you told them about Will?’

Tobias shrugged, but he looked a little sheepish. ‘Nothing that anyone about court wouldn’t say – that he and Ralegh hate each other most heartily. Babington is no friend to Ralegh either.’

‘Babington is no friend to the Queen – have you thought what that might mean?’ Kit wanted to shake some sense into his brother. Innocent of any experience of court intrigue, Tobias was dangerously unaware of the peril with which he flirted. ‘You’re behaving like a green boy. They aren’t your true friends in there and I wager you know it. Think for once! You’ve heard the stories, seen others fall. Surely you realize that you only have to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, laugh at a risky joke, or write a letter that can be misconstrued, and then you’ll find yourself over your head in trouble – and your family with you.’