Man Behind the Façade

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Rebecca smiled. ‘How clever of you to read my mind. I’m certain you would find her more than satisfactory. She’s good with children and you know how they tire you out at the moment.’

‘That might be so, Rebecca, but why should I have need of someone to look after the children when I have you living here? I thought you enjoyed their company.’

Rebecca knew that she shouldn’t feel annoyed by that comment. After all, she had a roof over her head and food in her belly and it wasn’t costing her a penny to live here. But she worked hard for that privilege and although she was thanked for what she did and received several gifts a year, there were times when she felt put upon and wanted to kick over the traces. Regardless of these feelings, she knew that she had to be careful how she worded her response to Jane’s question if she were to help Tabitha. ‘I was thinking that Tabitha could step into my shoes if I wanted to spend some time with my brother. Giles was truly dear to both of us, I know, so I am sure you understand my need to see Davy now and then.’

Jane’s brown eyes filled with tears again and she reached out and touched Rebecca’s arm. ‘Of course, I understand. I suppose the least I can do is to go and take a look at these players and Tabitha. But how will I recognise which one is Master Hurst when I have never met him?’

‘I could go with you,’ said Elizabeth eagerly.

Jane glanced at Rebecca. ‘Well, what do you say to that?’

‘It is not a play for children.’

‘I see. Then you’d have to come with me and as there is no one to care for the children in your absence, it seems that is out of the question.’

Rebecca so wanted to see Phillip in the play again that she said swiftly, ‘I shall go and fetch Maud and I will pay her myself if necessary with the money that is over from that which Simon gave me.’ She did not wait for Jane to agree, but hurried from the house.

When Rebecca returned, she told Jane that Maud would be with them within the hour. ‘Just enough time to allow me to change out of my travelling clothes and wash away the dust of the journey,’ she said.

‘I can see you’re determined to have your way!’ Jane pushed herself up from the table. ‘You will have to carry a stool for me to sit upon, Becky,’ she warned. ‘And we will come away if there is aught of which I disapprove.’

‘Of course,’ said Rebecca, smiling warmly. ‘I would not expect you to stand about in your condition. But I swear, Jane, that you will enjoy the performance and you will like Tabitha and approve of what I have done.’ With a whisk of her skirts she hurried from the room and upstairs to her bedchamber. Despite her aches and pains and her impatience with her sister-in-law, her weariness had evaporated and she could not wait to see Phillip perform again.

A motley crowd had gathered on the open space where the wagon was parked and there was an excited buzz at the sound of a loud drumbeat and then another and another. The people hushed and the next moment a figure, unrecognisable as Phillip, stepped into the arena. Rebecca felt her pulse quicken as he began to speak.

As with most tales, this one had a moral and Rebecca, who had been too distracted last evening to consider fully what the play was about, now had time to think about its meaning as the story unfolded. She could not take her eyes from Phillip, who not only had the title role, but the difficult task of playing more than one part. He had to magically change himself from an old hag into a fair young woman with lightning speed.

The play came to an end and the cast took a bow to thunderous applause. Tabitha went round with the hat and beamed at Rebecca, who introduced her to Jane. Tabitha bobbed a curtsy as if she were a real lady. ‘It’s an honour to meet you, Mistress Caldwell.’

‘At least you have pretty manners,’ said Jane, her expression thawing. ‘Tell me, how long will you be staying in Oxford?’

‘That depends, mistress,’ replied Tabitha earnestly. ‘Master Hurst thinks we should stay for at least a sennight, I reckon. I have been told he has no need of me for that time.’

Jane gave her a nod and said no more and Tabitha continued taking round the hat. ‘No doubt her husband will also appreciate some work,’ said Jane, looking thoughtful as she stood up. ‘Maybe I could use him in the garden. Tell me, Rebecca, which one of the players was Master Hurst?’

‘I thought you would have asked before now,’ said Rebecca, picking up the stool on which her sister-in-law had been seated. ‘But I could see that you, too, were enraptured by the play. He had the title role, as well as that of the hag and the fair maiden.’

Jane’s jaw dropped. ‘Well, you do surprise me, Becky! It’s a mystery to me how he managed those changes so swiftly. Beneath that paint no doubt he is as handsome as my stepdaughter thinks.’ She took in a breath. ‘Still, what is of more importance is the moral of the story. How interesting that it should be don’t judge by outer appearances, beauty is to be found within. I’m sure you agree with me?’

‘I think you’ll find that the tale has several strands,’ said a voice from behind them.

Rebecca whirled round to see Phillip standing there. He had changed out of his costume and removed the paint from his face and he did look as Margaret and Elizabeth had described him, handsome as a Greek god. ‘May I introduce my sister-in-law, Jane Caldwell, Phillip. Jane, this is Master Phillip Hurst.’

Phillip inclined his flaxen head. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Caldwell.’

Jane offered him her hand and he brushed it with his lips. She seemed a little flustered and cleared her throat before speaking. ‘You played your parts well, Master Hurst. You have a definite talent for such tomfoolery but can you really make a living from it?’

‘I have not yet starved and life is never dull,’ said Phillip, smiling into her eyes.

Her colour deepened and she touched the crucifix about her throat and then clasped her hands tightly together. ‘We were not put on this earth, Master Hurst, purely for our own pleasure.’

‘I do so agree,’ said Phillip, continuing to smile at her. ‘But that doesn’t mean that life cannot be interesting and amusing even when it might prove uncomfortable and dangerous.’

‘I like my life to be comfortable and secure, Master Hurst, as I am sure does Rebecca,’ said Jane, meeting his gaze squarely.

Phillip glanced at Rebecca. ‘Yet she enjoys reading of my brother’s adventures.’

‘I certainly see nothing wrong with that,’ said Rebecca, deciding it was time she took part in the conversation. ‘A woman would not be allowed to live such a life, alas, so I have to live it vicariously.’

‘Alas, Becky?’ said Phillip, raising an eyebrow. ‘You would have such adventures if you could?’

‘God forbid that she should ever do so,’ said Jane swiftly. ‘I think it is time we were going.’ She slipped her hand through Rebecca’s arm. ‘I enjoyed your play, Master Hurst, and wish you well. May the saints preserve you.’

Phillip thanked her for her kind words, but instead of moving away, he took the stool from Rebecca, saying, ‘Let me carry this for you and escort you home. There will be cutpurses and other rogues on the streets this even, no doubt, and you might have need of a protector.’

‘That is kind of you, Master Hurst,’ said Jane.

He nodded briefly and without a word, he set off through the throng. Rebecca would have had no difficulty in keeping up with him if it had not been for Jane, who could not in any way match either pace. Soon they fell behind.

‘Well, I have never met a man like him,’ said Jane, clinging to Rebecca’s arm. ‘Charming, but he is now proving a disappointment. What is he thinking of going so far ahead of us when he is supposed to be guarding us?’

‘It is odd, isn’t it? I wouldn’t have expected it of him,’ said Rebecca, disappointed herself. She watched as Phillip paused on the corner of the street. He was looking their way, so she waved to him. He responded by jerking a thumb and disappearing from her sight.

‘Now where has he gone?’ asked Jane, her flushed face exasperated. ‘I hope you aren’t smitten like the girls by his handsome face, because I am certain dear Giles would not have approved of him.’

Rebecca was tempted to say that dear Giles was dead but was much too sensible to do so. Instead she followed in what she hoped was Phillip’s wake. They turned the corner into High Street where she had last seen him.

‘I assume he knows our destination,’ panted Jane. ‘Please do not rush me, Becky. A fall at this stage in my pregnancy could prove serious.’

‘There he is now!’ cried Rebecca, recognising the back of Phillip’s head and the spread of his shoulders beneath the russet-coloured woollen doublet. She was more than a little vexed with him herself, and puzzled. Why was he in such a rush? He was now approaching the Mitre Inn and fortunately he had slowed down. She watched what he did and pointed him out to Jane. ‘He has put down your stool and is going into the inn!’

‘Why is he doing that? My stool could be stolen. You make haste and get it, Rebecca,’ said Jane, giving her a push.

Rebecca ran the few yards to the inn and picked up the stool. She deduced from the noise coming from within that there was a rowdy crowd inside. What should she do? Go in and find Phillip or simply wait here for Jane? Her sister-in-law made the decision for her by coming up and seizing her cloak. ‘We shall not hang around here outside a common inn, Rebecca. It isn’t seemly! We shall carry on home and if anyone should attempt to attack us, we have the stool to use in our defence. I am disappointed in Master Hurst. He looks fair, but his manners are foul. Obviously he likes to keep low company and is fond of strong drink.’

Rebecca did not believe that was the reason for Phillip entering the inn for one moment, but she was not going to argue with Jane in her condition. She must see her safely home before deciding what to do next. She was still annoyed with Phillip and hoped he had a good reason for his behaviour. She hoisted the stool high against her chest and set off with Jane in tow. It was with some relief that they arrived back at the house without mishap. Annoyingly there were no lights in the house and no sign of Maud.

‘Where is that girl?’ said Jane, collapsing in a chair.

‘Perhaps she is upstairs with the children,’ suggested Rebecca.

‘If she is not, I will have a bone to pick with her. There should be a lantern lit down here at the very least,’ said Jane, removing her gloves and peering at Rebecca through the gloom. ‘What if the house had caught fire and no one here to save the children?’

Rebecca lit a candle from the embers of the fire and hurried towards the stairs. Jane rose to her feet and followed her. ‘I will come with you.’

The children were sleeping, but there was no sign of Maud. Both women concluded that once they had fallen asleep, the unreliable Maud had decided to skip off home. ‘That girl,’ said Jane wrathfully. ‘It will be the last time I employ her. Now let us to bed. It’s been a long evening.’