‘What am I going to do with it?’ Jack asked.
He was sitting up in Bessie’s bed the following evening, “major” wig askew after their latest tumble. Bessie was propped up next to him admiring Bowser’s snuffbox.
‘This is truly beautiful. He has shown me a number in his collection. Most have jewels on them like this one. Strange to waste expensive jewels on snuffboxes. I myself prefer the ones with the paintings on. Apparently there is a man called Le Sueur, or something of the like, who is famous for the miniature paintings on these boxes. So Bowser says. Such a delicate touch.’
‘Forget about the bloody paintings! I have got a tricky problem here. We are going to have to think of a way out of it.’
Bessie held the snuffbox up to the candlelight to see the diamonds glint again. Without taking her eyes off the box, she said, ‘I suggest that you tell Bowser that you have sent it.’
‘That is rather obvious!’ Jack snapped irritably.
‘Listen. Compose a letter to Garrick as though you know him. Friend to friend. You are good at making things up, so that should be no problem. Then show it to Bowser; say it is a copy of the letter you dispatched to Garrick. That will convince him that you have acted immediately.’
‘That sounds good so far,’ Jack conceded cautiously.
‘Then when no reply comes, you can always say that the snuffbox was lost in transit.’
‘Will he believe that?’ Jack was dubious.
‘Better still, you could write a letter from Garrick, sent via you of course, thanking him for the snuffbox and stating he was most keen to come north and act with young Flyford, but that he will be detained in London until later in the year. At least that will give you time. You can then always write again later from Garrick and return the snuffbox saying he cannot spare the time et cetera.’
‘’Tis a marvellous plan. Bessie, you are the most devious and most delicious of women.’
‘Why, I thankee, sir,’ she bowed her head mockingly.
That was one problem solved. Now, what about the other two more immediate ones? Jack found women, and Bessie and Catherine Balmore in particular, easy to confide in; which didn’t come naturally when conversing with men, not even Digges, though Jack himself had sat through many a tedious life story conferred on him. Men in taverns or coaches seemed to latch onto him and entrust him with their confidences. It was listening to one such in an Oxford alehouse after a seriously dull Natural Philosophy lecture that the idea of acting was first planted in his then straight-laced mind. Like a slow-burning fuse, his imagination was gradually fired. Discontent with his sterile studies fermented. Yet he now looked back with some envy at those docile days when viewed against his present predicament. Much as he wanted to, he could not confide his dealings with Thirsk to Bessie; she would never forgive his betrayal – though he had told Catherine that afternoon when he had caught her alone in the dressing room during the rehearsal.
‘Yes, Mr Thirsk did approach me to play in his company,’ she had said, smiling at the recollection. ‘He said he was lining up an exciting young actor of stature to play opposite myself.’
‘Who was that?’ asked Jack, fishing for compliments. He was most flattered at Thirsk’s description of himself.
‘A Mr Honeyway.’
‘Mr Honeyway!’ Jack spluttered
‘Why, do you know of him?’
‘No.’
‘Though I have not heard of him either, Mr Thirsk said he would bring him north from Buxton.’
Why, that scheming bastard! He had no intention of giving Jack the leading roles opposite Catherine. He would have strung him along until Garrick had turned up.
‘Anyway, I was not interested in the slightest in his proposal, though the rogue offered me sixty guineas.’
Sixty guineas! That was twice what he had been given. ‘You did well to ignore him. A bad lot if you ask my opinion.’
‘From the fact that you ask me, I presume he also tried to entice you away from our company.’
‘He did indeed. I, too, was offered sixty guineas, but I laughed in his face. And I told him straight; I said that others, like your good self, would never succumb to his Spaniard’s gold.’
‘You talked to him in such forceful tones?’ she asked in delighted amazement.
‘Catherine, I could not begin to tell you how I sorted the fellow out. I confess my language was stern and sometimes colourful. I would not repeat many of the phrases I used so as not to sting your sweet ears. But I felt it was my business to state plain that, though our captain may have fallen overboard, we would not desert the ship. We had to up anchor and sail on to our destiny, whatever that might be.’ Jack realised he had strayed into seafaring gibberish, but Catherine appeared suitably impressed.
‘Bravo!’ She clapped her hands. ‘Bravo, Jack!’
His chest swelled at her approval. ‘If I do not like a man and his methods, I will tell him so, be he the King himself!’
‘I would stop short of the King, for you do not want to lose that handsome head of yours.’ This was too good to be true – the more rubbish he spouted, the more flattering the compliments became. “Handsome head” indeed. Maybe there was still hope.
Bessie handed back the snuffbox and Jack leant over and put it in the pocket of his coat, which had been hastily flung over the chair when he had stripped for action.
‘Is it wise to put it there?’
‘I will keep it about my person at all times. I cannot afford to lose it. When the time is right, I will send it back with a letter from Garrick as you suggest. He will be furious no doubt,’ Jack sighed. Hopefully, by then he would be well clear of Newcastle.
Bessie snuggled up to him. He curled a protective arm round her and she laid her head upon his naked chest. ‘There is another matter that needs resolving.’
She raised her head and squinted enquiringly at him.
‘You know that one-eyed man I saw Courtney in conversation with at St. Nicholas’…’ Bessie turned her head back as though this was something she didn’t want to hear. ‘…and the same man who stood in the shadow and gave the order to attack me?’
‘You cannot be sure that they are one and the same; you said yourself it was dark,’ she muttered unconvincingly into his chest.
He ran his hand through the long strands of her hair. ‘Bessie, I am sure, for I saw him again last night after I had left Bowser’s house. I followed him to Sandgate and I know where his abode is.’
Bessie sat up. ‘You followed this man! If he is as dangerous as you believe, surely that was an act of madness!’
He was touched by her solicitude. ‘I was careful. But now that I have knowledge of his whereabouts, should I go to the loathsome Axwell with this information? He is convinced that I did the murder and that I am in league with Thirsk. Fortunately, Sheriff Ridley is taking little interest in the case or I would probably be incarcerated in New Gate Gaol at this moment.’
‘The trouble is that even if this man is arrested, he can deny your story,’ said Bessie voicing a reservation of his own.
‘I know. Yet I cannot just wait around for him to strike again. He might succeed next time!’
She leant towards him, ran the tips of her fingers down his cheek and kissed him gently on the lips. ‘Then, my dearest, you have little choice in the matter. You must go to Axwell and hope that he will act, and that this man will confess.’
‘If he does, you realise it may be the end of Tyler Courtney?’
She lowered her eyes. ‘I know, I know. Though in my heart of hearts, I cannot believe that he is involved.’
Jack needed no convincing. During his conversation that afternoon with Catherine, whom he regarded as his secular confessor, he had had time to mention his tracking down of Courtney’s man. It was only natural to do so as he was capitalising on the impression he had created with his fictional assertiveness over Thirsk. Again, Catherine had been taken by his bravery, though, touchingly, she had shown the same concern as Bessie. She had also advised an early visit to the authorities.
‘You take too many risks. Let the men of the law take the burden from you. I would not want to see you hurt once more. That would upset me.’ And yet again those eyes had drawn him in.
He had enjoyed her pretty little speech and was about to tut-tut it in a manly way and say that danger meant nothing to him when he realised that Courtney was standing in the doorway.
‘Would you like to join us for the next scene?’
As Jack followed Catherine and Courtney back to the stage, he wondered how long Courtney had been at the door and, more worryingly, how much of their conversation he had overheard.