Читать книгу Man Behind the Façade - June Francis, June Francis - Страница 6

Rebecca had spent a restless night and woke from a dream in which she was wiping the paint from Pip Hurst’s almost-perfect features amongst other things. The intimacy of the vision unsettled her and she wondered why the Almighty had decided that now was the time for their paths to cross again. Whilst married to Giles she had prayed that she would forget Pip and had managed, most of the time, to put him out of her mind. Then she had seen him at Greenwich Palace and the desire she had felt for him had been reignited and he had figured prominently in her thoughts after that. She felt hot and bothered thinking about those times. Now here he was, but still as unattainable. Despite his flattering words, he’d made it plain there was no room for a wife in his life. It also appeared that he believed that she had been in love with his brother, Nicholas, until Giles had come along. Obviously, he did not suspect that it was Pip, himself, that she had lusted after. It was true that she admired the older Hurst brother, who had kept a journal of his travels in the Americas. How excited she had felt when she had held a copy and read the words for herself! Pip and her friend, Lady Beth Raventon, who had inherited her father’s printing-and-stationery business in London, had shared the preparation of getting the journal into print as a birthday gift for Nicholas six years ago.

The book had sold well and, after Rebecca had blurted out how much she wished she could read the book for herself, Beth had taught her to read and write. It had proved a task that had given them both great pleasure. But however much she had enjoyed the book, Rebecca had never considered Nicholas Hurst, explorer and merchant, as a possible husband for herself. After Beth had married her guardian, Sir Gawain Raventon, Nicholas had sailed away and disappeared from Rebecca’s life.

A sigh escaped her and she turned over in bed. It was at times like these that she had missed Giles during those first weeks after he had died. A child would have been such a comfort. Fortunately her desire for children had been partially satisfied in helping to care for her young nephew and his half-sisters. But now Phillip had re-entered her life, she could not deny that he affected her still in a way no other man had ever done. Yet would she ever see him again? By the time she had left James sleeping, Simon had gone to bed and Phillip had vanished, just as her mother had done, without any words of hope for her to cling to that they might ever see each other again.

Rebecca felt that sense of rejection experienced on waking as a child, knowing that her mother had not loved her enough to want her company. She sighed, knowing there was nothing else to do but to get on with life. She noticed that it was getting light. Time to get up. She dressed swiftly and as silently as possible and, lifting the latch with care, slipped through the gap between door and jamb. She went downstairs and outside to fetch water from the butt by the door. She had a drink, then she spotted Phillip’s gown and wig. She felt her pulses quicken. He would be needing them that day, so perhaps she should take them to him. It should not be so difficult to find the covered wagon he had spoken of.

She fetched her cloak and set out towards Witney, hurrying up the hill, past a stream that dashed over rocks on its journey to the valley floor. The water was so clear that one could see the pebbles at the bottom and darting fish. It was as she rounded the foot of the hill that she caught sight of Phillip going up the hill in the direction of Draymore Manor House. Her heart leapt. The house was situated a short distance from the village of Minster Draymore and hidden by trees. How odd. Before she could call out to him, he disappeared from her sight. Had he come to collect the gown and wig and taken the wrong path? She set off in his wake. When she reached the brow of the hill she could see the surrounding area as far as the church spire of St Mary’s in Witney, but there was no sign of Phillip. She dithered, trying to decide whether to remain where she was and to watch out for his return or to walk to the manor house.

Several birds flying up from the trees below made her think they had been disturbed by Phillip’s passing and she set off in that direction. She passed through the copse until the trees opened out to reveal an overgrown garden and a path in need of weeding that led up to front door of the manor house. It was a heavy door with studs on it and she had not really expected it to give way when she gripped the sturdy metal ring set in the wood, but the door creaked open. She hesitated before entering, remembering that Simon had told her to stay away from the house and not to take the children there as it was not safe. Even so, if the door was unlocked, that meant he must have forgotten to lock it yesterday.

She placed the gown and wig in the corner behind the door and gazed about the hall. It was small in comparison to the one at Raventon; there was a pile of rubble and one of the walls appeared to be crumbling in places. She guessed that the building dated back maybe more than two hundred years ago to the time of Edward II who had married a French princess, Isabella. This royal lady had taken a lover called Mortimer, the first Earl of March, who had lived at Ludlow Castle. That Rebecca and her brother shared the same surname had caused Davy to wonder aloud whether they were descended from Mortimer and Isabella, who, if she had been a man, would have become the ruler of France. Such ancestry was what caused King Henry to fund the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles, betrothed to Henry’s daughter, Mary, to fight the French in the hope that at least his descendants would sit on the throne of France if Charles was the victor in that conflict. Rebecca was of the opinion that the closer one was to the throne, the more dangerous life could be. Mortimer, lover of Isabella, had been executed for treason, although she and their offspring had been pardoned by Edward III. She wondered what Phillip thought about King Henry and his ambitions in France and whether one day he would write a play about such stirring royal events from the past.

She came to a decision and walked carefully across the hall to a door at the far end, noticing that some of the walls were blackened with smoke. She was startled by a shout and her first instinct was to head straight back to the front door and outside. Then she heard a banging and a crash; hesitating no longer, she ran towards the sound, almost tripping over a clump of fallen stone, thinking perhaps that Phillip might be under attack from ruffians. She came to a small chamber. The door was half off its hinges and on the opposite wall was shelving. Possibly it had once been a still room. There was a smashed jar on the uneven floor and a couple shrouded in cobwebs on a shelf. The room appeared to be empty, but cautiously she went inside to make certain, stepping over more rubble. The next moment she felt an arm go round her throat. Fearing she would be choked to death, she sank her teeth into the wrist of her attacker. Her captor released her and she wasted no time in trying to escape, but he seized hold of her again. With fists flying, she aimed for his chest, only to realise that it was Phillip.

‘Damn it, Becky, what are you doing here?’ he said harshly, seizing both her wrists and holding her arms aloft.

‘I was searching for you, but I didn’t realise that my attacker would be the person I sought!’ she cried. He released her abruptly and she fell against him. Instantly, she was aware of the hardness of his chest and the heat emanating from him as his arm slipped around her. ‘What a fright you gave me!’ she gasped. ‘I was convinced you were about to throttle me!’

‘I thought you were the ghost,’ he said drily. ‘As soon as you bit me, I knew better.’

‘Ghost! What ghost?’ She glanced about her.

He hesitated. ‘The one Simon Caldwell believes he saw. I caught a glimpse of a figure a short while ago and called out to it, but then it disappeared, so perhaps there really is a spirit abroad.’ A faint smile played about his lips.

‘But you attacked me and I’m obviously no ghost,’ said Rebecca reasonably.

‘That’s because I heard footsteps and I thought only the living could be responsible for that and maybe it was someone who could intend me harm.’ He lifted his wrist and inspected the marks left by her teeth and cocked an eyebrow.

‘I’m sorry I bit you but it did the trick, didn’t it?’ She placed her hand on his and gazed at the red indentions. ‘I don’t think I’m poisonous, but perhaps some salve on the wound?’

He made a noise in his throat. ‘At least I know you can defend yourself if necessary.’

‘Very graciously said,’ she murmured, looking thoughtful. ‘I wonder why Simon made no mention of a ghost to me.’

‘He did not want to frighten you,’ said Phillip, removing her hand. ‘Be careful where you step,’ he warned.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Rebecca tripped over the pile of rubble and ended up flat on the floor. ‘Ouch, that hurt!’

He went down on one knee in front of her and his blue eyes were dark with concern. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Just help me up, if you please,’ she groaned.

He took her hand and jerked her to her feet without realising his own strength so that she was catapulted against him. This time he almost lost his balance and for several moments they swayed back and forth on the uneven floor, their bodies pressed against each other and their faces only inches apart. It was strangely comforting, thought Rebecca, in no hurry to have him release her this time.

Then he kissed her.

The temptation to taste her lips had been irresistible, thought Phillip. Her lips were as cool as spring water and as she made no attempt to pull away, he deepened the kiss and delved between their moist softness and captured her tongue. It was a while since he had kissed a woman and never had he found it so arousing. Then he remembered that she did not think much of a player’s way of life and dropped her like a hot brand and walked away.

It was several moments before a now-seething Rebecca recovered her equilibrium and was able to pick herself up off the floor. Giles had never kissed her in such a thoroughly penetrating fashion, but neither had he ever used her so roughly. How dare Phillip kiss her and then cast her aside as if he couldn’t bear to look at her! Obviously he had no thought for her feelings at all. Hurt and anger coursed through her veins and, after taking several deep breaths, she marched out of the room, careful to avoid any obstructions.

He was nowhere to be seen. Had he left her alone in this place, prey to ghosts or vagabonds? She made for the front door and there she found Phillip resting against the door jamb. She waited for him to speak, but after what seemed a long time, she came to the conclusion that he was not going to refer to what had happened. Well, she was not going to allow him to ignore the episode. It might be true that she had enjoyed the kiss, but if he was now regretting what had happened, she was not going to let him know that. Most likely he had kissed lots of women over the years and had enjoyed doing so. Lackwit that she was to think that just because the kiss had set her whole body alight, that it had done the same for him. Misery threatened to flood her, but then she remembered that part of a man’s anatomy that had trouble sleeping. His had flared into life as he had kissed her and flaunted itself against her belly. A definite indication that he had desired her, if only for a moment, before rejecting her.

‘I should have slapped your face,’ she said.

‘I’m amazed that you didn’t!’ He straightened up. ‘I didn’t intend to behave so, but you were irresistible.’

‘Was I? Well, that’s good to know,’ she replied, taken aback. ‘I—I presume you’re not going to make a habit of it?’

He gave a ghost of a smile. ‘Probably not, you’ll be pleased to know.’

‘Good, because we both know that we wouldn’t suit. You’re not in the market for a wife and I have nothing to bring you that would be of help in making your way in the world. Although I am not such a fool to believe that kissing a woman means a man must feel compelled to propose marriage.’ She dimpled at him in an attempt to reassure him that she had decided to make light of the situation, despite the fact that she ached to be held in his arms again.

Phillip found those dimples bewitching and experienced a further rush of desire, but it was obvious that she saw no future for them together, so all he said was, ‘I’m glad that we’ve got that sorted out. Shall we go?’

She nodded, picked up the gown and wig. ‘You forgot these last even.’ He took them from her, thanked her and closed the door before heading towards the trees. ‘Was the ghost the reason you’re up and about so early this morning or were you on your way to collect your costume? I saw your gown and wig and decided to bring them to you. I was doing so when I spotted you.’

‘And your curiosity got the better of you when you saw me?’

‘I can’t deny it.’ Her brow puckered. ‘Do you mind telling me about this figure you thought you saw?’

‘I do not doubt what my eyes saw, Becky, but I didn’t get close enough to make out the identity of the man.’

‘Then can you tell me what Simon told you?’

Phillip’s eyes locked with hers, but still he hesitated.

‘Please, of your courtesy, I would like to know. There is obviously some mystery here that needs solving. I do have a talent for such.’

‘If I do tell you, I want you to bear in mind that he believes it possible that his mind was overtired and he might have imagined what he saw.’

She nodded. ‘That goes without saying.’

Phillip took a breath. ‘He thought he saw your father’s ghost.’

Rebecca felt a peculiar sensation shoot down her spine and the ground appeared to rock. The last thing she wanted was her father to return to haunt her from beyond the grave—why should he appear to Simon? And why here, of all places? It had to be a figment of his imagination. ‘I don’t believe it!’ she said, a tremor in her voice.

‘Neither do I,’ said Phillip firmly. ‘But it’s interesting, isn’t it? And why should he appear here? Is it possible that your father has kin living in the area?’

Rebecca took a deep breath. ‘As far as I know he had no kin. At least he never mentioned any to me, but then he never saw any reason to discuss anything of importance with me,’ she said bitterly. ‘I was only his daughter.’

‘My mother would have loved a daughter, so don’t pull yourself down. Your father was a fool not to appreciate your worth.’

‘You’re just being kind,’ she muttered. ‘Anyway, we’ve strayed from the subject.’

He frowned. ‘Think the worse of yourself then, woman! Tell me instead, is it worth asking the people who live in Minster Draymore about your father?’

‘Surely Simon would have thought of that? Unless he didn’t want to look a fool. Besides, could he be looking for me?’ She looked up at him from scared eyes.

‘Then why come here? Why not seek you out in Oxford?’ he asked reasonably.

Rebecca forced down her fear and smiled. ‘You don’t know how much your saying that relieves my mind.’

Phillip returned her smile. ‘Maybe there is no ghost and it was a real person I caught a glimpse of?’

‘He could have been a vagabond and reacted violently. My next question is—do you think we should speak of this to Simon? He’s normally a man of good sense, but if he mentioned this to you, then it really is playing on his mind.’

Phillip was silent a moment, then said, ‘The person who might know if your father had other kin is your brother.’

Rebecca’s eyes met his and she nodded. ‘But how am I going to get a message to him? I’d have to pay a messenger and I don’t have that kind of money.’

‘I would go myself if I had the time, but—’

‘I would not ask it of you,’ said Rebecca hastily. ‘He might get in touch with me himself before Christmastide, so perhaps I should just wait a while. In the meantime I will see what I can discover here.’

‘I don’t think that will be possible now,’ said Phillip, taking her arm. ‘I’m leaving for Oxford this morning and I offered to escort you and the children home.’

She felt that peculiar leap of the heart. ‘I—I can’t believe you’d want the bother of three young children as well as myself on the journey.’

‘No, I don’t,’ he said, straight-faced, ‘but I could see their poor father was desperate and, as I am heading in that direction, I thought it would be good for you to experience the travelling life, albeit briefly.’

She gave him a severe look. ‘I deem you are teasing me. You are forgetting, Phillip, that I do have some experience of such due to having travelled about with my father for his work. Still, it is generous of you to make such an offer and I accept it gladly. But why is it that you go to Oxford? I cannot believe that you do it purely for my benefit.’

‘God forbid! Why should I want to travel with you, knowing that you can be a shrew at times?’ he said in a mocking voice. ‘You must have forgotten that it is St Giles’s fair today. We plan to perform there. Also, I have been asked by the Raventons to take a look at a vacant property in the town with the idea of setting up a print room, stationer’s and book shop there.’

Rebecca’s eyes lit up. ‘I had no idea. But why would they ask you to do that?’

‘I act on behalf of Nicholas, who has shares in the Raventons’ business. It is some time since they and my brother and I have heard from him and so—’

Her smile faded. ‘When did you last hear from him?’

The muscles of Phillip’s face tightened. ‘Ten months or more, but you must not worry. It is not the first time he has left it for a while before getting word to us that he is safe.’

She placed a hand on his arm. ‘But still you must be anxious.’

‘It would be dreadful, indeed, if there were to be no more tales of his adventures,’ said Phillip lightly. ‘But let us not lose hope. Tell me, by what means did you travel here?’

Rebecca accepted the change of subject and removed her hand from his arm. ‘On horseback. I had two of the children up with me and Margaret, the eldest, rode pillion with Simon.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’ve just realised he will need his horse and mine cannot bear four of us.’

‘I suggest the two youngest children travel in the wagon where Tabitha can keep an eye on them.’

Rebecca seized on the mention of a woman. ‘Tabitha? You have a woman in your troupe?’

He smiled. ‘I couldn’t manage without her. She cooks for us and takes care of the costumes, as well as telling us exactly what she thinks of our performance. She also acts as a prompter if any of us should forget our lines. She is good with children and I’m sure the pair of you will rub along.’

Rebecca felt a pang of envy that he should think so highly of this woman. ‘What is she like?’

‘Young and pretty. She was in dire straits when we came upon her in Coventry, a couple of years ago. Some quick action was called for and we carried her off. It soon proved that we had made the right decision.’

Rebecca found herself almost hating this paragon of virtue despite never having set eyes on her. ‘I look forward to meeting her,’ she said stiffly, thinking that although Phillip had told her there was no room in his life for a wife, he still had a man’s needs. Really he should not have kissed her if he had a mistress! The pleasure she had felt earlier at the thought of travelling to Oxford in his company evaporated, but she could hardly say that she had changed her mind about doing so.

‘Shall we make haste?’ said Phillip. ‘It’s a good four leagues to Oxford and I want to be there in plenty of time to make ready for this evening’s performance.’

When they reached the house, it was to find Simon talking to the woman from the neighbouring cottage. When he saw Rebecca and Phillip, he brought the conversation to an end and approached them.

‘There you are! I was wondering what had happened to you, Rebecca. Has Master Hurst divulged our plan to you?’

‘Indeed he has,’ said Rebecca, deciding to make no mention of her father’s apparition. ‘I will go and see if the children need help getting ready.’

She went indoors, thinking she must also don a pair of riding breeches under her skirts. She was greeted by eight-year-old Margaret, who was fair-haired, with a spare frame and a fussy manner. ‘There you are, Aunt Rebecca! Father says that we are going home today.’

‘Indeed, we are, love,’ said Rebecca, forcing a smile. ‘Are you not pleased?’

The girl nodded. ‘I hear we are to be travelling with a Master Hurst who owns the shipyard where your father worked.’

‘It is his brother who owns the shipyard,’ corrected Rebecca, ‘but the rest is true. I’m sure you will like him.’

‘Is he the man who is with Father now?’ whispered Elizabeth, the younger daughter who was small and chubby.

‘Aye, it is. You and James will be riding in a covered wagon. Is that not exciting?’ said Rebecca.

‘What d’you mean a covered wagon?’ demanded Margaret, pausing in the act of fastening her shoe.

‘Master Hurst is a member of a troupe of travelling players and they are going to Oxford to perform at St Giles’s fair,’ answered Rebecca.

‘How exciting!’ cried Elizabeth. ‘Will he drive his wagon right up to the house, so Mama can see us arrive?’ she asked, her brown eyes sparkling.

‘I—I—I want to go home,’ said four-year-old James, pressing himself against Rebecca and hugging her knees. ‘I—I—I mith Mama.’

She lifted him up on her knee. ‘I know, sweeting, and I would have risked the highway on our own to take you there, but your father would not allow it. Fortunately, Master Hurst is to escort us, so all is well.’ She kissed his rosy cheek. ‘You do know that you must be on your best behaviour? I do not want Master Hurst regretting his offer.’

‘I be good,’ said James, nodding solemnly.

If only I could believe that, thought Rebecca wryly, aware that four leagues was a long journey for a small boy. Well, she would just have to hope for the best. Few women would like to have two boisterous young ones thrust on them for such a journey, but hopefully this Tabitha would accept the situation without complaint.

After a breakfast of bread, butter and eggs, washed down with small ale, they made their way outside. The horse was saddled up and, after taking their farewell of their father, the two youngest children were lifted on to the back of the horse by Phillip. He took it upon himself to lead the beast before Rebecca could protest that she was quite able to do that herself. She pecked Simon on the cheek and he slipped several coins into her hand, saying they were for anything the children might need on the journey.

She thanked him and set out to walk beside the animal with Margaret next to her and Phillip the other side. Elizabeth chattered to her sister in a high voice that informed Rebecca that she was a little nervous about being up on the horse without Rebecca to cling on to.

They had not travelled far when Phillip suggested that the children might like to hear a story. Instantly they chorused agreement, as did Rebecca, who was far from averse to listening to one of his tales to while away the journey. She was surprised when he launched into the fable of the tortoise and the hare. By the time he had finished they had arrived at the church in Witney and James was clamouring to get down and wanting to be a tortoise.

‘And the moral of this story is—?’ asked Rebecca.

‘You tell me,’ responded Phillip, raising his eyebrows.

‘Don’t be over-confident or look down on others who appear less able than yourself. This isn’t one of your own creations, is it?’

Phillip’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve heard it before?’

She nodded. ‘If I’m not mistaken, it was written by a Greek slave hundreds of years ago and you won’t find it in any book written in English.’

‘I wager Beth Raventon told you that. I know she stocked a Latin translation in the London shop and she is extremely well read.’

Rebecca smiled. ‘I wouldn’t deny it. I have a lot to thank Beth for. She has been extremely generous with her time and sharing her books with me.’

‘I was told the story by Frederick, who was my mentor when I first left the shipyard. You’ll be meeting him soon and it’ll probably surprise you to hear that Frederick was a scholarly cleric who has travelled widely, including to Greece and its islands. He translated the story for me to turn into a play, as well as some of the Greek tragedies.’

‘Tragedies?’ She pursed her lips. ‘There doesn’t sound much to amuse one in such plays.’

‘You’d be surprised,’ he said with a grin. ‘There was also comedy in the Greek theatre, but it didn’t really become popular until after the Peloponnesian Wars and was known as the New Comedy.’

She was impressed. ‘You surprise me, Phillip. I never expected to hear of such from your lips. Do all strolling players know of the Greek plays?’

‘No, but I have visited Greece and one of its islands myself,’ he said, doubly taking her by surprise. ‘But some like Frederick studied at Oxford. Here he comes now,’ said Phillip.

Rebecca turned to see an elderly bald man limping towards them. ‘About time you made an appearance, Pip,’ he grumbled. ‘We need to be on our way. The road will be busy and we don’t want to be held up.’ Even as he spoke, his rheumy eyes were on Rebecca and the children. ‘These are them, are they? They look a motley crew. Let’s get the young ’uns inside the wagon and they’d best behave themselves.’

Elizabeth gazed up at him nervously and James clung to Rebecca’s skirts and sucked his thumb. ‘Come, children, no need to be frightened of ol’ Frederick,’ said a woman, poking her head out from beneath the canvas flap of the hood. ‘He’s got no authority in here. It’s me that says what’s what.’

‘May I introduce Tabitha to you,’ said Phillip, lifting up one of the children. ‘Tabitha, this is Mistress Rebecca…’ he hesitated before adding ‘… Clifton—and her nieces and nephew.’

Tabitha nodded a welcome as she seized hold of Elizabeth. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mistress Clifton.’

‘Thank you for your help,’ said Rebecca hastily, taking in the other woman’s appearance. She was not in the least like how she would have expected a mistress of Phillip’s to look. Beneath a man’s cap, she wore her fair hair frizzed on her forehead and about her ears. She had a fresh complexion and was clad in a garment that appeared to be a man’s shirt. The draw strings at its neck were unfastened to reveal a generous expanse of cleavage. Suddenly there came a baby’s cry from the wagon’s interior and Tabitha jerked her head in that direction. ‘There Edward goes again, but as soon as we get moving he’ll quieten down and won’t be any bother.’

‘You have a child?’ blurted out Rebecca. Was it possible that Phillip had fathered a son?

‘Aye, has Master Phillip not explained our situation?’

‘No, I haven’t, Tabitha,’ said Phillip, glancing at Rebecca. ‘I didn’t see any need for anyone else to know what is your private business.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Tabitha. ‘But Mistress Clifton might like babies and will wish to see him, and the children will certainly want to play with my manikins.’

‘What manikins?’ asked Elizabeth, clinging on to Tabitha’s shoulder, her eyes alight.

‘You’ll see soon enough,’ said Tabitha kindly. ‘Now, what about your little brother?’

Rebecca was aware of Phillip’s eyes on her. His mention of private business had made her feel the outsider she was, but that did not make it any easier for her to accept. She glanced at the woman’s hands and saw that she wore no ring. The child must be Tabitha’s bastard, but was it Phillip’s? How could Tabitha smile so easily in such a situation and how did she cope with a baby and the travelling life? She allowed Phillip to take James and lift him up, so enabling Tabitha to seize hold of him and hoist him into the wagon.

‘Can’t I go in the wagon, too?’ asked Margaret wistfully.

‘If you don’t mind being squashed, then you’re welcome,’ said Tabitha, beaming down at her. ‘Here’s Jack and Ned now. We’ll soon be on our way.’

Margaret stood on the rim of the wheel and was helped up into the wagon. Rebecca turned to her horse, but before she could hoist herself up on to its back Phillip had seized her by the waist and lifted her off her feet and dumped her on the saddle. She was caught unawares, so that she slipped sideways. She jumped as he placed a hand beneath her bottom and pushed her back into the saddle. She had to bite back the rebuke that hovered on the tip of her tongue, hating the thought of his being intimate with the other woman. She did not know how she managed to smile so sweetly when Phillip introduced her to the two other members of the troupe.

They had returned with loaves of bread and something savoury smelling in a napkin. One was the youth who had passed round the hat last evening and was called Jack and he looked a little wan. The other appeared to be slightly older than Phillip and was named Ned. They nodded in way of greeting. Then Ned handed up the food to Tabitha before going to the horse’s head, whilst Jack had a low-voiced conversation with Phillip before helping Frederick up into the wagon. Phillip mounted the other horse and gave the signal to walk on. As the other two men were on foot, they kept the horses reined in.

For a while Phillip and Rebecca had not spoken. She was pondering on the duplicity of men, when he said abruptly, ‘No doubt you have noticed that Tabitha does not wear a wedding ring, even though she has a child.’

‘You do not have to explain. You made it quite clear that it was no business of mine.’ Rebecca’s voice was cool and she did not look at him.

‘Even so, I do not wish you to draw the wrong conclusion. It isn’t at all what you might think.’

Rebecca’s hand tightened on the reins. ‘I deem it a shameful situation for a young unmarried woman with a baby to have no proper home to raise that child. You mentioned the troupe having no winter quarters. Could you not ask your brother, Christopher, to take her and the child into his household when the weather worsens?’

‘I would if the father did not object to it,’ said Phillip.

His words took her unawares and she spoke without thinking. ‘Aren’t you the father?’

He shot her a glance and snapped, ‘You really shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Ned is Edward’s father, not me.’

She felt her cheeks burning. ‘I do beg your pardon.’

‘At least I know what you think of my morals,’ said Phillip in a hard voice.

Her colour deepened. ‘I admit I was wrong to judge you. Your private life really is none of my business.’

‘No, it is not.’ He felt deeply hurt that she should think ill of him. What had he ever done that she should think so badly of him? Surely that one passionate kiss he had pressed upon her earlier was not the cause? Suddenly he remembered what she had said last even about seeing him at court surrounded by ladies. Perhaps she thought he had set one or even two of them up as his flirts as well! If only she knew how he never knew what to say to them when he was just simply Pip Hurst, playwright, and not Phillip Hurst, actor. Suddenly he noticed that her hands trembled on the reins and instantly knew he had to take the sting out of their exchange and searched for the right words. He cleared his throat. ‘Yet I suppose by my offering to help you, I have invited you into my world and left myself open to your judgement. You do seem to care about Tabitha and her baby, but I am presented with a dilemma.’

‘Are you wondering how to bring pressure to bear on Ned to marry her and provide them with a home?’

Phillip shook his head as if in despair. ‘You’re doing it again. Jumping to conclusions. Tabitha and Ned married once the child was on its way, but he cannot afford to buy her a wedding ring. Its lack matters to them both. I offered him the money to buy her one, but met with a refusal.’

‘I see,’ said Rebecca, feeling mortified. ‘Again I beg your pardon for reading the situation wrongly. I wish I could help.’

‘As it stands, all the money he makes goes on living expenses and putting a little by for winter. Soon he’s going to have to decide whether, with a wife and baby, he can continue the life of a travelling player. Yet I know it will break his heart to give up acting. I wonder…’ He hesitated.

‘What do you wonder?’ asked Rebecca.

‘Whether your sister-in-law has room for a serving maid and if she would hire Tabitha and be prepared to accept the baby as well? Just for a short time whilst I sort lodgings out for the winter?’ His blue eyes met hers.

Rebecca thought that here was a way for her to make amends for misjudging him. ‘I am certainly willing to put the idea to Jane. At the moment she is not the easiest person to live with, but, as she is with child, allowances must be made. Have you spoken to Ned about it?’

‘I have only just thought of it.’ Phillip’s brow knitted. ‘It’s possible he will refuse to allow it, even if your sister-in-law agreed. Let us hope we make a decent sum this evening. Now the nights are drawing in, there won’t be many more performances, unless some lord asks for the troupe especially. It is different for me. Not only do I have my writing, but I can always return to shipbuilding. I am not short of ways to make money.’

‘You are fortunate in your brothers,’ she said earnestly. ‘And this year it has been a good year?’

‘For me, aye. If it were not that I was worried for Nicholas’s safety, I could almost be happy.’ He paused before adding, ‘If I receive news of him when next I visit the shipyard, then I will find a way of letting you know.’

She thanked him, thinking that Phillip still seemed to be of a mind that she cared for his brother. She should never have agreed that she had been in love with him when they were younger.

They both fell silent.

An idea suddenly occurred to her, but it remained unspoken. Rather she wanted it to come as a surprise and she thought he might prevent her from acting in a way that he might consider foolish in the light of her own situation. In the meantime she must consider what to say to Jane, to persuade her to hire Tabitha and allow her to have her baby with her. Maybe she might also be willing to hire Ned, temporarily, to do all those tasks around the house and in the garden that were more suited to a man.