that they came from different worlds. Edward served Queen Elizabeth at Court, advancing his family’s position with his skills in the joust and at swordplay, as well as in the dance, while Rob was a playwright and actor, a connoisseur of London’s low streets and stews.
But the taverns, brothels and gambling halls cared not where their coin came from, and the two men frequented the same hells. They also gleaned and shared valuable information from their various contacts, high and low. Which was how Rob came to discover that Sir Thomas Sheldon intended to take the virginal sixteen-year-old Jane Courtwright as his blushing bride.
Jane was usually sequestered at her family’s grand house by the river, seldom seen at Court. Her appearance at the playhouse today was fortunate.
She was a pretty girl; Edward saw that. A gold-and-white doll in her fine blue velvet gown. Her plump, downy cheeks were pink with the pleasure of being out in the world, of watching the antics on the stage and the colorful crowd in the yard below. Poor lamb, she was obviously ripe for Sheldon’s slaughter. Yet another victim of the man’s greed.
“What could her parents be thinking?” Rob said. “Sheldon must be thirty years older than her, and two hundred pounds heavier. She’ll be crushed in the marriage bed.”
“And out of it, too. That is what Sheldon does—destroys innocence wherever he finds it,” Edward answered. He thought not just of the unfortunate Jane Courtwright, but of his brother Jamie, who had been just as young and wide-eyed as she, just as eager to embrace the world without really knowing it. Until Sheldon destroyed him.
That was what Edward had to remember now. His brother, and the revenge he owed Jamie. He couldn’t afford pity for the girl. She would just have to learn the cold ways of the world, as Edward had.
“I think I know what her parents are thinking,” he continued. “Money. They do say at Court that the girl’s family are quite bankrupt. Entertaining the Queen so lavishly at their country estate last summer cost them their last farthing. No doubt Sheldon will pay handsomely for their daughter’s purity.”
Rob tapped his ink-stained fingers against the wooden railing of the box. “He would be enraged if that purity was…exaggerated. Mother Nan at the brothel across the alley says he wants only young, virginal whores—or ones good at playing the virgin, anyway. He pays well for it.”
“And what would he pay for a wife’s virginity?”
“I see your plan,” Rob said. His blue eyes narrowed as he watched the girl. “But have you the stomach for it, my friend? I know you’ve bided your time, patiently waiting for this day, but I know you. You’re no Sheldon.”
Edward gave a harsh laugh. “It’s true I don’t share his taste for dewy purity. Virginity is most overrated as a commodity. But as much as Sheldon is paying for the girl’s actual intact state, he’s also paying for the appearance of her innocence. Sheldon certainly values his worldly reputation above all else. I won’t hurt the girl, Rob. I only mean to give Sheldon public cause to fight me at last. The girl will be well rid of him.”
“And then you will disgrace him before the world, deprive him of all he holds dear.”
“Yes,” Edward said simply. That was the one thing he had been living for ever since Jamie died—to take his vengeance on Sheldon at last. The rest of life had been merely grim survival. Meaningless.
Rob shook his head. “It is your right to expose Sheldon, and no one would say you nay if they knew the true circumstances.”
And if Sheldon had not been able to hide his nefarious deeds behind a veneer of respectability for so many years. Edward needed to be sure the man’s disgrace was complete. “This will expose him to the world at last.”
“But it’s well known here in Southwark that he’s a cheat. Surely he would cheat in a duel, too, if it came to that. If he killed you…”
“Then it would still be at an end. I would be gone from this world, and the Queen would be furious with Sheldon for robbing her of her favorite courtier.”
“Her favorite handsome face, you mean.”
Edward laughed. “He won’t kill me. I’m younger and stronger, and I’ve been practicing for this day for a long time. Once he is disgraced at Court he won’t be able to come near any of us again.”
Rob nodded, but Edward could still see the doubt in his friend’s eyes. Rob’s methods were more direct—a rapier in a dark alley, a tavern brawl. But Edward had to expose Sheldon to the world for the villain he was. And Jane Courtwright was the means to do that.
Rob suddenly slammed his fist on the railing. “God’s blood!” he shouted. “The varlet has ruined my words again.”
Ethan Camp, the company’s clown, cavorted on the stage below, declaiming an improvised speech of his own devising instead of Rob’s written lines. Rob ran from the box, slamming the door behind him, and Edward was left alone with his dark thoughts.
He leaned his forearm on the railing to study Jane Courtwright. The White Heron Theater, open to the gray sky above and filled with people for the afternoon’s play, placed Edward’s private box across the yard from Mistress Courtwright’s second-story gallery and gave him an excellent view. She was laughing at the clown’s antics, her eyes shining as she fidgeted on the narrow wooden bench and clapped her hands.
Suddenly, a hand in a pale gray kid glove touched Jane’s arm, and Edward’s attention swung to her companion. It was a woman, older than Jane but still young, clad in a simple, well-cut doublet and skirt of gray velvet trimmed with gold satin. Shining red-brown hair was gathered into a gold caul and covered with a tall-crowned gray hat. Beneath it her face was a pale oval with a few golden freckles over her high cheekbones, and brown eyes that missed nothing around her. She whispered in Jane’s ear, and the younger girl immediately settled down on her seat.
“God’s blood,” Edward muttered, echoing Rob’s curse. Lady Elizabeth Gilbert—and she appeared to be the girl’s chaperone. How would he get around her?
He had encountered Lady Elizabeth a few times at Court. She was the daughter of an earl, the widow of a wealthy baron, and she served as one of the Queen’s ladies. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, and many gentlemen had tried their luck with her, hoping to find their way into her bed. What they usually found instead was a slap to the face or a sharp knee to the groin.
Lady Elizabeth Gilbert was an impregnable fortress of virtue, despite her gorgeous hair and fine bosom, and despite some initial temptation, Edward had decided he valued his testicles too much to try her.
Now here she was with Jane Courtwright. No doubt she would be as fierce in protecting her charge’s virtue as she was her own. This was an obstacle he had not counted on.
Lady Elizabeth looked across the theater just then, and her gaze caught his. Her eyes widened but she didn’t look away. For an instant her face was unveiled, the cool, distant expression she usually wore gone. She appeared startled and flustered, a faint pink blush touching her cheeks. Her lush lips, so full and sensual and at odds with her virtuous reputation, parted.
Edward suddenly had a vision of kissing those lips. He imagined catching her gasp with his mouth and feeling her softness against him. What would she taste like, feel like? Surely her chilly exterior concealed a passion long suppressed, just waiting to be set free.…
Then that
