The Mad Courtesan by Edward Marston Read Free Book Online

the advantages to himself. The most immediate ones now became clear. He was given a cordial welcome, a cheering stoup of wine, a delicious supper and a sympathetic ear. As soon as he retailed the miseries of his day, they were soothed by her attentive concern and lost all power to hurt him. Relieved of his worries, he was taken upstairs to his bedchamber and reminded just how voluptuous Margery could be when not encumbered by children or chores. It was like their marriage night all over again. Pounding the mattress with their shared ecstasy, they endorsed their union in the most strenuous way and were quite unaware of the vicarious pleasure they gave to the servants and apprentices whowere listening through the floor of the room above. Theirs was a love that truly enclosed the whole household.
    As they lay panting in each other’s arms, Margery spoke fondly of their marriage and its undying bliss. Firethorn was doubly delighted, savouring the wonder of what he had just experienced while looking forward to blessings of like nature in other bedchambers. His wife was going to Cambridge for a couple of weeks. He would be free from all restraint. This thought was uppermost in his mind when he mounted her for a second time and let out a whoop of joy that woke up half of Shoreditch. Marriage blended with mischief.
     
    It was late when he finally tracked them down in the upper reaches of Clerkenwell. They were plodding along together like two old oxen pulling a heavy cart that taxed their combined strength. Josiah Taplow and William Merryweather were typical watchmen, public-spirited individuals who did an unpopular job to the best of their mean abilities. Attired in long, dark robes that were belted at the waist, they had large caps shaped like helmets. Josiah Taplow carried a staff and a lantern while William Merryweather bore a bell along with his lantern and halberd. Their weapons were more for show than use. Like most watchmen, they were more adept at warning people of their presence than of apprehending any malefactors. Indeed, it would be difficult to find officers who would be less use in a fracas than Josiah Taplow, a retired plasterer and William Merryweather, an unemployed poulterer.Worthy and well intentioned they might be but they had little practical effect on the crime-infested area that they were doomed to patrol like lost souls in the outer darkness. It was unlovely work.
    Nicholas Bracewell stepped out to accost them.
    ‘Hold, sirs!’ he said politely.
    ‘We are watchmen both,’ said Taplow defensively. ‘Stand off a little further. We are armed.’
    ‘I intend you no injury,’ said Nicholas. ‘It was the coroner himself who sent me in search of you. Master Taplow and Master Merryweather, is it not?’
    The two men exchanged a bovine glance of bewilderment then held up their lanterns to illumine the newcomer’s face. Josiah Taplow was a wrinkled old man with a hook nose and a tufted beard. William Merryweather was bigger, sturdier but altogether more somnolent. He used a series of nudges to communicate with his colleague and left all the talking to him. Taplow took stock of the book holder.
    ‘Who are you, good sir?’ he asked.
    ‘My name is Nicholas Bracewell.’
    ‘What business have you with us?’
    ‘You found a dead body but yesternight, I believe.’
    ‘That we did.’
    ‘The gentleman was my friend.’
    ‘I am sorry to hear that, Master Bracewell,’ said Taplow with a wheezing note of apology, ‘for that gentleman did not die as a gentleman rightly should.’
    ‘I have seen him and know the worst.’
    ‘Words could not describe the horror of it, sir. We haveseen many foul sights in this occupation but none so foul as this. Is it not so, William?’
    Merryweather grunted and nudged his corroboration.
    ‘Where did you find him?’ said Nicholas.
    ‘On the corner of Turnmill Street and Cow Cross.’
    ‘Could you take me to the place?’
    ‘It is a tidy walk from here.’
    ‘I think I