“I was going to see if your remembered. If not, then I was going to tell you ‘twas Ned Alleyn, just to see if ‘twould have any improvement upon your acting abilities. But… you remembered who you were, worse luck.”
Despite the pain, Smythe smiled. “ Twould seem that I owe Ben a debt of gratitude,” he said. “Not to mention a new shirt.” He frowned. “Wait a moment. You said that Molly stayed with me while you and Ben went for Granny Meg?”
“Aye, she did. And she was most concerned about you.”
“And she is here still?”
“Aye. She would not go home until she knew that you were going to be all right. As Courtney said, she awaits downstairs, to see you and satisfy herself that you are in no grave danger.”
Smythe felt a pang of guilt at her concern. “Please send her up, Will.”
“I shall.”
“Oh, and Will?”
“Aye?”
“Thanks.”
Shakespeare smiled. “No need. You would have done no less for me. In fact, as I recall, you did save my life once.” “Then consider the score even.”
Shakespeare held up his index finger. “Not quite yet. But I shall be sure to let you know.”
A few moments later, Molly knocked and then looked in anxiously. “Will said that you were awake and feeling better.”
“Well, I am not so sure that I feel better, but at least I am awake. Please come in, Molly.”
“I am so very sorry, Tuck,” she said, as she came in and sat down on a stool beside the bed. “Does it hurt very much?”
“Like the very Devil. But your broth helped. Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Did you see who did it?”
Smythe shook his head and at once regretted it. The room spun and he closed his eyes a moment, hoping that he would not retch. “Nay, I did not,” he said, after a moment. “But Ben did. He said ‘twas the Steady Boys. It appears that I shall have a score to settle with Jack Darnley and his lot.”
“Granny Meg said ‘twas likely that you would recover fully before long.”
“I believe I shall,” said Smythe. “For the most part, ‘tis just my head that aches as if ‘twill burst. From now on, methinks I shall be more careful about walking through the streets alone after it grows dark. Which reminds me, Molly… I have a confession I must make to you. And I fear that it may make you angry with me.”
“You are going to say you followed me?”
Smythe grimaced. “You already knew. She told you.”
Molly nodded. “I am not angry with you, Tuck. I know you thought ‘twas a man that I was with and you only followed me out of concern for my safety and welfare.”
“She told you that?”
Molly smiled. “She did not need to. I know you, Tuck. You are not a scoundrel. There is no meanness in you. You have always been land to me. You and all the other players have always treated me as if I were part of the family, and I have always been very grateful for that. You are all very nearly the only family I know.”
“Well, I am relieved to hear you are not angry with me,” Smythe told her. “And you have repaid my kindness with kindness of your own. But I still cannot help but wonder… What in the world have you to do with the likes of Moll Cutpurse?”
Molly glanced down at the floor. “ ‘Tis a private matter, Tuck, and I wish you would not ask me.”
“Well, I know ‘tis no concern of mine, but-”
“Just so, Tuck. ‘Tis no concern of yours. And I would be grateful if you did not press me on the matter.”
“But you do know who she is, Molly?”