Love's Will by Meredith Whitford Read Free Book Online Page B

He had never seen a worse pretence of casualness.
    “No, Father.”
    “Just as well, you’re too young yet. But you see rather a lot of Mistress Hathaway?”
    “We’re friends, yes.”
    “She’s a good woman from a good family. A very suitable friend.”
    “Yes, Father.”
    “But if, and, mind, I only say if, this playing company business seemed to have money in it…”
    “Yes?”
    “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to make some enquiries. Your friend Dick Field, now, he’s in London, apprentice to a printer. He would know his way around London a little.”
    “I’m sure he would.” William felt breathless.
    “Not that I am entirely without friends, useful people, even now. Look, son, don’t tell your mother but I’ve a little put away that she doesn’t know about; a few pounds only.”
    “Sir Alexander left me a tiny annuity in his will, and I’ve some savings.” O please, O please…
    “Suppose we let you go to London.” Quickly, as William began to speak, he held up his hand. “Only to ask, for now. To make enquiries. You could lodge with Dick Field and make some enquiries. There’s a Mr Burbage, who owns the Theatre.” He saw his son’s face, and laughed. “I’m not entirely ignorant, and not quite as stupid as you think.”
    “Of course I don’t...”
    “Well, well… and the other one, the play-house, called The Curtain I believe. If you went to these people, asked about being apprenticed, found out what sort of costs are involved, well, then we could think again. After all, if it’s a paying business, you might as well do something you’re good at and enjoy.”
    “Like you with the glove shop and the wool dealing.”
    “Just so. I couldn’t wait to leave the farm and I see the same impatience in you to be done with all this. So I’ll go this far: you may go to London for, say, a month, to make sensible enquiries about work and lodgings and pay. If necessary you can lay down indenture money. But be sure you speak to a lawyer first. I’m no admirer of lawyers but they have their uses, I suppose.”
    “Father, thank you! Thank you. But what about Mother?”
    “I’ll deal with your mother.” He took another drink. “I am,” he said, “still master in my own household.”
     
    Anne was hanging out washing when someone behind her coughed and spoke her name. A young girl stood there, shifting from foot to foot. She had russet hair and hazel eyes.
    “Mistress Hathaway?”
    “Yes. And you’re Joan, William’s sister. You’re very like him.”
    “Everyone says that. Will asked me to bring you a message.”
    “Oh?” said Anne, annoyed to find that her first reaction had been delight. It was a week since she had seen him. Then she realized that Joan was holding out a folded paper. Anne wiped her hands on her apron, and took the letter gingerly. It was sealed, and she could see the clear imprint of his thumb in the wax. She hesitated then flicked it open.
    She could read print well enough but had had little practice with hand-writing. Still, he wrote clearly, with care. She had no trouble making out what he had to tell her.
    …my father has given his permission… to London at once… dare not hope for too much but… nothing decided yet… no time to visit you before I went… always remember your kindness…
    “Joan, come inside, let me give you something to drink.” Chattering away, fetching the ale jug from where it hung in the well to keep cold, serving out the honey cakes she had made that morning, until at last she could say with seeming unconcern, “So your brother has gone to London?”
    “Mmm.” Joan’s mouth was full. “I was supposed to bring the letter yesterday but…”
    “But?”
    “Oh, well, it has been rather difficult at home. Mother didn’t want Will to go but Father insisted. They’ve been arguing. Mother’s made herself ill with it.”
    “A sudden decision, was it not? I thought your parents were against him going away?”
    “So we thought, but