Free The Wanton Angel by Edward Marston

line into the Thames and leave it there awhile. Who knows? When you pull it out again, you may have landed all four of the men you value so highly.’
    ‘How, my lord?’
    ‘That is what I have come to tell you.’
     
    Lawrence Firethorn spent the morning brooding on the subject.
    ‘Sylvester is lying,’ he decided.
    ‘I think not,’ said Nicholas Bracewell.
    ‘He is the obvious candidate here.’
    ‘That is what I rushed to believe at first but I was woefully wrong. Sylvester Pryde is no saint. He is the first to confess that. But I am certain that he did not lay a finger on Rose Marwood.’
    ‘A finger is not the appendage in question, Nick.’
    They were standing in the yard at the Queen’s Head at the end of an erratic rehearsal of
Mirth and Madness
, a staple comedy from their repertoire and a complete contrast to the tragedy which preceded it. Knowing that they were only allowed in the inn yard on sufferance, the company had been preoccupied and lacklustre, stumbling over their lines, missing their entrances and generally turning a livelyromp into something akin to a funeral march. Lawrence Firethorn, surprisingly, had been the chief offender which was why he did not castigate his company, trusting instead that the presence of an audience would serve to unite the players with the play.
    ‘Who, then, was it?’ he wondered.
    ‘I do not know,’ said Nicholas.
    ‘If not Sylvester, it must be one of our other fellows. Unless we are in the presence of a virgin birth here. Did you see a star in the east, Nick? Are we to expect the imminent arrival of Three Kings, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh?’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘Forgive my blasphemy, dear heart, but this business has put me on the rack.’
    ‘Mistress Rose is the real victim here,’ said Nicholas.
    ‘Indeed, she is, and my wife said the same to me when she heard. I had great difficulty preventing Margery from walking all the way here from Shoreditch to comfort the girl. Women understand these things more than us. It is bad enough to have to face the pangs and perils of childbirth, she told me, but it must be agony to do so without the father at your side. Rose Marwood must be in torment.’
    ‘That was Anne’s first reaction as well.’
    ‘I, too, have sympathy for the girl – profound sympathy – but my prime duty is to ensure the safety of the company.’
    ‘That has been done. We have our playhouse back again.’
    ‘But for how long, Nick?’ said Firethorn. ‘We told the landlord that we would identify the mystery lover and passthe name on to him. I know full well how he will react if we go to him empty-handed. And his fury will be mild compared with that of the fiery she-dragon he is married to. What do we do?’
    ‘Remain patient.’
    ‘That is like telling me to remain dry in the middle of a tempest. How can I be patient when Marwood is yapping at my heels like a terrier? Call him off.’
    ‘I will do my best.’
    ‘He is upsetting the whole company,’ said Firethorn irritably. ‘He should be more friendly towards us in view of the fact that Westfield’s Men contains his future son-in-law.’
    ‘I cannot guarantee that.’
    ‘You think he will disown the girl?’
    ‘Let us find the man first,’ said Nicholas cautiously. ‘I am distressed at our failure to do so. It can only mean that we have someone among us who adds lies to lechery.’
    ‘There is one sure way to expose him, Nick.’
    ‘Is there?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Firethorn cheerily. ‘Wait until the child is born. If it speaks in Welsh, then Owen Elias is our man. If it has aristocratic poise, Sylvester Pryde is unmasked. And if it has a face like a full moon and sighs like a furnace, then it is Edmund Hoode who has been a-leaping.’
    ‘I think you will find it is none of them.’
    ‘Whoever he is, he cannot hide for ever. I rely on you, Nick.’ He punched Nicholas playfully on the arm. ‘You will root him out in the end.’
    ‘Someone may do