Kathryn Kramer (27 page)

"Our moneybox has been stolen." 
Murray shook his head woefully.  "One of the young actors apparently broke into Heminges room and made off with it during the night."              

"What?"  She
let out a long sigh of relief..  "Is that all."

"BiGod, child!" 
Murray's shout was like hearing a tabby cat roar.             

"I only meant that it might have been worse.  I feared at first that some tragedy had befallen.  But money is only money after all."

"Only.....!"  Murray was rendered speechless for just a moment, then he sighed.  "I suppose that you are right.  Our health, our wellbeing is much more important.  But woe is me.  Woe is me."

Alandra was nervous as her father approached the bed, wondering if there were any telltale signs of the amorous activities that had occu
rred during the night.  Certainly the coverlets were in disarray. 

"We will all have to be most circumspect with our shillings." 
Murray's expression suddenly seemed to brighten.  "But then I know how frugal you always are, girl.”             

Alandra wasn't really worried. She was stil
l elevated to her dream world. "We will quickly fill the moneybox again when we go back to London."

"But that's just the point.  We can't go back!"

"Can't go back to London?"  If her father thought that bit of news would disappoint her, he was wrong.  It gave her promise of more time with Christopher.  Besides,, until they found out who killed Lord Woodcliff, he would be in the utmost danger there.

He hurried to explain.  "Ben Jonson has been arrested."

"Another sedit
ious play?"  It wouldn't be the first time their friend had been taken into custody.  Nor was it serious.  Playwrights often suffered such indignities when they wrote something  with which one of the nobleman had a quarrel.  Was it any wonder Shakespeare was cautious?

"He killed a man in a swordfight."

"No!"  The reminder of Nicholas's plight came back to haunt her.

"Yes!" 
Murray sat down in the chair near the foot of the bed, nervously tapping his toes against the frame.  "He's written to Will of his intent to plead benefit of clergy.  Scholars are allowed such as you know."

"I know."  If only Christopher could have made a pledge of being scholarly
, he might not have had to run.

"Aye.  If you ask me old Ben will be exonerated,
but meanwhile things couldn't be worse for us."  He paused to reflect on the matter.  "What happened stirred up those Puritan  troublemakers again.  The theatres are still shut tight, and it looks as if they will remain so for quite awhile."  Murray clucked his tongue in annoyance.  "We won't be returning as soon as Will had planned."

"Then where do we go?"
Alandra found herself wishing that they could remain in Dover, a town which already held such precious memories.

"That's why I'm here.  We will most likely head in the direction of
Bath.  Will is having a meeting to decide.  Undoubtedly we will have to move on quickly.  This inn is very expensive and now most of us have little funds.  Thus the meeting.  I knew you would want to sit in on it."

"A meeting!"  Alandra purposely said it loud enough for Nicholas to hear.  As keeper of the ledgers she would be expected to go.  "A meeting now?"

Beneath the bed Nicholas  cursed softly. Whoever stole that money had certainly had rotten timing.

"At this very minute,"
Murray answered, standing up.  For a moment he looked around him.  "I could have sworn that I heard a mumble."

Alandra laughed.
"My stomach rumbling its hunger."

"Then hurry!  Get into your clothes, girl and I'll get into mine.  I smelled some oatmeal brewing.  We'll partake of it before we go seek out Will."  The very mention of food made
Murray smile as he ambled towards the door.  "Perhaps I'll even try a bit of sausage, though my stomach is not as immune to spices as it used to be."   He opened the door and started to leave, then hung back for just a moment. "From the first moment I laid eyes on Christopher I knew your place was beside him.  It's glad that I am that there are smiles between you again."

Alandra couldn't quite meet her foster father's eyes.  "Smiles......" she said, wondering what
Murray would think if he knew there was so much more.

"I like that young fellow!  Indeed I do.  For I know that he lov
es you. I do not think I could give you up to any other man.  But I know you are safe with him....."  Murray's eyes darted to the spot on the floor where Nicholas's boots were flung haphazardly. Cocking his head, the old man raised his brows.  For a moment he was deep in contemplation as a myriad of expressions flitted over his face. 

Though
Murray didn't say a word of reproach, Alandra sensed at once that her father knew Christopher was in the room. "Father......."  She felt the need to explain, but Murray shook his head.

"I want no explanations, no pretense of shame and remors
e," he said, raising his hand. "'T is not for me to judge or to scold.  Life is all too fleeting, and true love a wonder that few possess.  You are happy, daughter.  The glow on your face tells me so."  Reaching up he gently tweaked her nose in the same manner he had used  when she was a mischievous child.  "That is all I want for now."

"I
am
happy!"  Alandra let out her emotions in a long, drawn out sigh.  "Moreso than I ever dreamed was possible."

Nicholas heard her impassioned words.  Oh, that he always heard such joy from her lips.  He didn't ever want Alandra to regret
what had passed between them.  As to Murray, it was time they had a heart to heart talk.  There were things about Nicholas that the old man had every right to know.

"Alandra.....!"  It was obvious that there were many things that
Murray wanted to say, emotions he wanted to express, but he said only, "it's my wish that you will always be happy.  You deserve it so, for you have given me purpose and given my life the most blessed peace......" The old man's eyes moistened with sentimental tears.  Hurriedly brushing them away with the sleeve of his nightshirt, he stepped through the open doorway.

             
             
Chapter Thirty-Four

The assemblage of actors was as colorful a gro
up as could ever be imagined—a gathering of multi-colored doublets, hosen and hats that rivaled the flowers of the inn's garden. Even so, it was a somber group that  met in the inner courtyard to discuss their  future, each and every one of them incensed that they had been robbed. Making use of Murray Thatcher's collection of stools, chairs, benches and thrones, forming them into a semi-circle, they transformed the stage area into an open-air meeting room. 

At the arc of this circle William Shakespeare stood while the others seated themselves.  With a casualness that belied
his importance with the group, he called the meeting to order. Nicholas listened to Will ask the group for suggestions as to their next destination since the London theaters were still closed and under the watchful eyes of the Privy Council and the mayor.

There were arguments both for and against continuing into
Bath and Bristol or returning to London. While the players expressed their views, Nicholas had other matters on his mind. Not one to be afraid of any situation, Nicholas nonetheless was nervous and disquieted at the prospect of facing Murray. Not because he feared the jovial old man, for Murray did not look as if he could threaten a rabbit, but because he was apprehensive of disappointing the kind-hearted man. Murray had trusted him, had befriended him, and in return Nicholas had lied to him. He could argue with himself that it had been an act born of a desperation to save himself, but a falsehood had been perpetrated just the same. Alandra knew the truth and Shakespeare. Now Murray must be told. With fierce resolve, Nicholas clenched his jaw. He couldn’t base his relationship with Alandra upon a lie, and he would speak to Murray at the first opportunity.

Nicholas turned his attention back to the conversation.
William Sly and Richard Burbage unwaveringly stood by their desire to return to London until the very end.  However, when the votes were taken, the decision to go to Bath had prevailed. Untroubled by any internal dissension, the company made their plans to continue their season on the road. After a few other matters were touched upon, the actors dispersed.

"And so it is decided,"  Murray exclaimed, bounding to his feet.  He started to leave the
stage but Nicholas grabbed him by the arm.

"No, don't go.  We have to talk!" Nicholas was not prepared for the tight ball that lodged in his stomach as
Murray looked up at him. 

"Aye, it seems by the look in your eyes that we do."

Nicholas tensed his jaw again.  This was even more difficult than he had imagined.  "Then let us go someplace where we can talk.  Alone!" He emphasized.

"My room?  It is at the end of the hall where there are few prying eyes or ears."

"Agreed!"  Nicholas followed after Murray, running all the things he needed to say over and over in his mind as they walked.

"Here we are." 
Murray opened the thick wooden door of his room, revealing a total state of disarray.  The bed was cluttered with costumes, the chairs covered with props of various shapes and sizes.  Indeed it looked much like the play wagon.  "Alandra is forever scolding me for not being of a more tidy nature," he complained good-naturedly, "but in truth I know the exact location of everything that I need." 

Uncovering a chair, he bid Nicholas to have a seat
, but Nicholas was more comfortable standing. 

"Let me begin by telling you that I love your daughter with all my heart," Nicholas said softly.  "Of that you must have no doubt."

"Love her.  Of course.  I know you love her, Christopher.  Perhaps I even knew that before you did."  Murray's eyes glittered with a moisture that he said were tears of joy. 

"
Murray...."

The stage
man held up his hand.  "Before you think to make a confession to me, I also know that you and my daughter are now lovers."

Nicholas was stunned.  "You know?  How....?"

Murray chuckled.  "The next time you take refuge beneath a bed, Christopher you should remember to hide your boots."  He patted Nicholas's arm with gentle censure.

"Believe me, I have no intentions of ever acting so foolish again."  Nicholas's face flushed, something that rarely happened.  "It was just....just that I didn't want you to........" 

"I understand, Christopher."  As if he were confiding a secret, he lowered his voice.   "Besides, I know how impetuous Alandra can be."  Taking off his cap, Murray twisted it nervously in his hand.  "My only question is, where does your love for my daughter lead you now?"

"I would marry her,
Murray if...."

Throwing his hat up in the air,
Murray gave a shout of joy.  "And I would be most proud to welcome you as my son."

"
Murray!"  If only things could be different.  If only he could pretend to himself that he really was Christopher Nicholas.  It would be so much easier to go on with the lie.  But he had vowed to tell Murray the truth and he would--or be damned.  "Believe me when I tell you that my dearest wish is to take Alandra as my wife, but......"

"But.....?" 
Murray's voice was choked.  "Merry-go-up, don't tell me you are already married!" He looked Nicholas straight in the eye, one of his eyebrows rising in mild rebuke as he jumped to that conclusion.

"No!"

"Thank God."  Murray sagged his portly body into a chair, waiting for Nicholas to continue.

"Oh, how do I make you understand?"  Nicholas
strode up and down, making a path in the floor.  He decided it was prudent to begin at the beginning.  "First and foremost my name is
not
Christopher Nicholas!"

"So? As Will has said, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet....."

"It's not only that!"  Nicholas took a deep breath.  "Everything I told you is a lie, Murray.  I am not an actor, never was.  I didn't study with Edward Alleyn.  Hell, I hardly even knew who he was."

Murray
shrugged his shoulders.  "You are not telling me anything I don't know, Christopher.  I suspected as much.  I'm afraid that you gave yourself away more than a few times .But  I wouldn't be at all surprised to see Will give you a role one of these days.  The actors are your friends, as am I.  If you have need of us, you have but to ask and we will give you aid." 

"There is much more to my story."  Nicholas paused, then blurted out, "I wasn't in your play
wagon that night because I was fleeing from the inn for not paying my bill.  There was another reason." He stopped  pacing to stand in front of Murray, his hands folded in front of his chest. 

"Whatever you have done
, I assure you that none will chastise you."  Murray coughed uncomfortably, as if he didn't really want to hear more about the matter. "With us, with Alandra, you can begin a new life, Christopher. In case you haven’t discovered it for yourself, we in the company are not loath to shield those outside the law. Like my friend, Ben Jonson."

Though
Murray obviously wanted to dismiss the matter, Nicholas pressed on. "I was hiding because the queen's guards were after me."  Nicholas's lips were tight as he said, "I am accused of killing Lord Woodcliffe."

"Accused of......?" 
Murray gripped the arms of his chair.  "But you didn't!"  He was unquestionably staunch in his loyalty. "On that I would stake my life."

"No, I didn't kill him."  Even now Nicholas was incensed by the memory.
"Now I feel of a certainty that I was framed for the deed by my most hated rival at court. A man whose name even now sours my tongue.  Owen Stafford."

"Lord Stafford?  Rival." 
Murray's eyes were as wide as saucers.   He knew at once what that meant. "And you.....?"

"My name is Nicholas Leighton.  Sir Nicholas Leighton."

"A nobleman!"  Murray gasped, drawing back in his chair and recoiling as if he had been slapped.  "Oh, no."  He covered his face with his hands.  "Better that you be a rogue or a thief than a vainglorious popinjay.  One of them.  Alandra!  Oh, my poor, poor girl.  I had thought....I had hoped......."

Nicholas rushed to explain.  "That is why I tried so hard to keep my distance from your daughter, Murray!  To avoid hurting her."

"But you will!"

"I won't.  You have to trust me.  Alandra is more important to me than my life!"  The whole story tumbled forth from Nicholas.  His infatuation with Morgana, their humiliation at the masque, the meeting at the inn, then the tragedy of her husband's murder.  "I was running from Stafford's men with little hope of escape. That's when I spotted your play wagon."

"And got a knock on the noggin.'"

"At first all I could think about was using the acting company as a haven, somewhere to hide until I could find a way to prove my innocence.  It was not in my plans to fall in love with Alandra, but I did." 

Since he was making confessions, Nicholas also revealed to
Murray the truth about Shakespeare's horse.  That he had stolen it and that Alandra had ridden after him to retrieve it. She had also not trusted him and had only agreed to keep his true identity a secret to protect the company. But Alandra had finally told Will who he was and Will had made no move against him

“And,” Nicholas said now, “in spite of my love for her, I vowed to leave her alone. I was afraid that Alandra would have no future with a man in such dire circumstances. I thought we had no hope of happiness so I tried to stay away from her,
Murray. I tried, but I couldn’t.”             

"My fault!  Mine.  I was equally determined to play cupid for I was so certain....."

"That she and I belong together.  We do."

Murray
threw his arms up in defeat.  "You belong together, aye, but you come from two different worlds.  Thus it can not be, Christopher."

"That's what I thought at first
, but I have since changed my mind.  It can be, Murray.  I love her!  And she believes in my innocence and loves me. What can be more important than that?”

Murray
's face was etched with pain.  "You sound as if you were reciting lines from one of Will's plays, but life is not as simple as that.  There is as much hatred in the world as love.  Perhaps more so.  If Lord Stafford is intent on ruining you, he will not stop until he has." 

Nicholas couldn't admit defeat, not now.  He had to believe that right would overpower wrong.  Hadn't Alandra told him so.  "I won't let
Stafford win. I didn't kill Lord Woodcliffe, and I can only hope that some day my name will be cleared."             

"And you can return to court." 
Murray sighed, reflecting his deep, inner anguish.   He mumbled to himself saying, "Actors and playwrights are welcome at court, but not as equals. Only as entertainers. You will never be able to marry Alandra."  His full lips quivered.  He looked as if at any moment he would break down and cry.  "Never......."

"I know. 
Elizabeth is like a veritable shrew on the subject."  Nicholas's eyes were unwavering as he said determinedly,  "that is why I do not plan to return, Murray!"

"You mean.....?" 
Murray lifted his head.

"Whether or not my reputation is restored I have forsaken my previous life." There
would be no turning back now. "Alandra is not only  beautiful but everything a man could want in a woman.  As long as she wants me by her side, I will stay." 

Murray
was dubious.  "And give up your nobility?"

"The strings that
Elizabeth pulls.  Aye."  As he spoke he realized that he really did mean it.

Murray
jumped to his feet, drawing  himself up to his full height, still much shorter than Nicholas.  "I knew I wasn't wrong about you.  I knew it, Christopher!  I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. I knew it, Christopher!  You and Alandra.  It was meant to be." 

Frantically he searched the room, finding a bottle of wine beneath a stack of hats.   Two mugs were retrieved from a corner of the room.  Filling the two cups 
Murray made a toast to the days ahead.

"To the future," Nicholas echoed, not fully certain what awaited him
.