“I do not understand,” Elizabeth said. “Why would someone wish to kill you?”
“Because I had overheard their plot,” said Smythe.
“What plot? What on Earth are you talking about?”
“ Elizabeth, do you remember when I told you that ‘twas I who shouted out to warn you there were others present in the maze that night? There were two men… unfortunately, I never saw them, for there was a hedge between us, but I had overheard them plotting. One of them said to the other that with Catherine out of the way, he would be free to make his move. The plot, it seems, was to impersonate a nobleman and his son, then seek to secure Middle-ton’s consent for Blanche’s hand in marriage. The prize would be Blanche, herself, and of course, her dowry, which would likely be considerable, especially if Middleton believed that he were dealing with a nobelman. I heard no further, for I had made some noise and gave myself away, whereupon they tried to run me through with their rapiers right through the hedge.”
Elizabeth gave a gasp and stopped, staring at him with alarm. “Then twice someone has tried to kill you!”
Smythe took her arm and moved her along, not wishing any of the others to catch up and overhear them. ?
??True, they have tried twice, and they may yet try thrice if I cannot unmask them. But… here is my point. I know they were in the maze that night. And now I also know they must have seen me, for they now know who I am, which puts me at a considerable disadvantage. What if they had also overheard what you discussed with Mason? Then they would have known about the plan you made with Catherine. And they would have known that Catherine was not truly dead.”
“But if everyone believed that she were dead, and she was going away with John, then what purpose would be served in killing her?” Elizabeth asked.
“To divert attention and suspicion from themselves,” said Shakespeare.
“Precisely,” Smythe agreed. “We are clearly dealing with coldblooded men who shall stop at nothing to achieve their ends.”
“You must tell Godfrey Middleton about this!”
“He already knows, Elizabeth. As does Sir William. We have told them both about it and have their charge to do anything we can to help get to the bottom of it.”
“He knows about it?” she replied, with amazement. “Then why in God’s name does he blame John?”
“Because he is distraught, Elizabeth. Give the poor man some consideration. He has had a daughter murdered twice in the same day. And then there is his outrage over John being her lover, and worse yet, being a lowly groom.”
“A neighbor’s groom,” said Shakespeare. “A neighbor with whom he fancies himself to be in competition.”
“And do not forget John admitted that the dagger stuck in Catherine’s breast was his,” added Smythe. “Under the circumstances, can anyone blame Middleton for reaching the conclusion that he did? In time, when he has had a chance to recover from this heavy blow, then Middleton shall no doubt see reason and reach the same conclusions that we have. But in the meantime, we must do what we can to find the real killer.”
“And, with any luck, do so without being killed ourselves,” Shakespeare added, wryly. “God’s wounds, but this has been a day to try a man’s soul! Just when I think that things cannot possibly get any worse, they promptly do!”
“You seem to have had quite a time of it,” said Smythe. “You look a sight. What happened?”
“That fool of a driver wrecked the carriage,” Shakespeare replied.
“And some of your best clothes, it seems.”
“Aye, but that is of no consequence. What plagues me beyond all measure is that if Braithwaite was right, then if the wheel had not come off the carriage and delayed me, I could have returned in time to save Catherine’s life.”
“Oh, no, Will! Do not blame yourself for that!” Elizabeth said.
“ Elizabeth is right, Will,” said Smythe. “You are no more at fault than she is for helping Catherine, despite what Middleton has said. ‘Twas Catherine’s own choice to do what she did, as ‘twas the killer’s choice to murder her. We should not hold ourselves responsible for what others choose to do of their own free will. We can but be responsible for our own actions. Each of us must suffer the slings and arrows of his own outrageous fortune.”
“Gad, Tuck, that was well put! I wish I had said that.”
“Never fear, I am sure you will.”
“Zounds! You dare unpack your wit at my expense? I have half a mind to pay you back in kind!”
“That would make you a halfwit, then.”
“Villain!”
“Clod!”
“Scurvy knave!” “Steaming turd!” “Rustic mountebank!” “Bad poet!”