Much Ado About Murder

“Just the same, they can be dangerous,” insisted Fleming. “If you do not wish to give me credence, then go ask your blacksmith friend, Liam Bailey, whose former apprentice was killed in one of their street brawls. Do not underestimate them merely because they are young, Tuck. Aside from which, those two, Darnley and McEnery, are of an age with you, or very nearly so. Some of the others might be younger, but put enough of them together and they can be trouble enough, believe me. They might forgive Ben, in consideration of the past, but they have no reason to grant you any such consideration.”

Smythe nodded. “I shall keep that in mind, John. But ‘tis not in my nature to run away from trouble.”

“Just see that you do not run toward it,” Fleming said, “ ‘Allo, what have we here?” he added, looking out past the stage into the yard. “ ‘Twould seem that Master James has brought us visitors.”

The rehearsal stopped as the players came down off the stage into the yard to greet James Burbage, Richard’s father and the owner of the Burbage Theatre, who had arrived with a party among whom were Henry Darcie, one of the investors, his daughter, Elizabeth, Ben’s friend, Corwin, and another gende-man, dark and foreign looking, richly dressed in silks, who came in company with a beautiful young woman whose pale skin was a striking contrast to her jet black hair. Even before they were introduced, Smythe had already guessed that this was Master Leonardo, the wealthy Genoan merchant trader, and his lovely daughter, Hera, who had so captivated Corwin.

There was yet another gentleman who came along with them, a man Smythe did not know. He was large, heavy, and robust-looking, with a florid face and a thick, bushy gray beard. Shoulder-length gray hair came down from beneath a soft, dove-gray velvet cap, which matched the three-quarter length cloak and short, soft gray leather boots that set off his burgundy hose and quilted black doublet shot through with silver thread. They must have come in carriages, thought Smythe, for otherwise those new, expensive clothes would have been filthy from the mud outside.

The red-faced gentleman turned out to be Master William Peters, the goldsmith to whom Corwin had been apprenticed and in whose shop he now worked as a journeyman, well on his way to establishing a successful reputation as a craftsman in his own right. James Burbage made the introductions, pointing out the individual players to his guests. Henry Darcie and Elizabeth, of course, already knew them all, but this was apparently the first time that Master Leonardo and his daughter had ever seen the Burbage Theatre. Master Peters had attended several of their productions in the past, but he was apparently not a regular. He came, primarily, to act as an intermediary for Master Leonardo with James Burbage and Henry Darcie. And doubtless he also came for Corwin’s sake, for it was clear from the way his eyes never left Hera for an instant that the young journeyman was very much in love.

“Well met, good players, well met all!” said Master Peters in a jovial tone, after Burbage had completed the introductions. “I beg you, do not allow our merry company to interfere with your busy preparations. We have merely come to visit and observe. My friend, Master Leonardo, late of Genoa and newly arrived upon these shores, is in the mind of considering new ventures here in London and, in that regard, was curious to learn something about the business of a company of players. Thus, upon learning of his interest, I could think of nothing better than to introduce him to my old friend, Henry Darcie, whom I knew to be an investor in your theatre. Therefore, ‘tis my great pleasure to introduce Master Leonardo, and his fair young daughter, Hera, and the rest here, I believe you all already know.”

“Indeed, we do, good Master Peters,” the younger Burbage said, speaking for them all, “and you are all most welcome to the Theatre. Sad to say, we cannot regale you with a play, for as you doubtless know, by order of the council, the playhouses of the city are all closed ‘til further notice and we are thus enjoined from performing for you.”

“Indeed,” said Master Leonardo, speaking excellent English, albeit with a pronounced Italian accent, “I was aware of the decree, though ‘tis a pity, for I had hoped to learn something of your work and, at the same time, perhaps provide some amusement for my daughter, who has never seen an English company perform.”