Edward Marston - The Mad Courtesan

Lawrence Firethorn was aware that he owed a profound debt to Nicholas Bracewell and he was generous with his thanks. He was also able to rely on the discretion of his book holder. Margery would be told only a fraction of the truth in the privacy of the marriage bed but Firethorn hid nothing from his friend.

‘I was a blind fool, Nick,’ he confided. ‘I laughed with the rest of them at Nimbus but I was only watching myself. I was a stallion led astray by a mare. You stopped me from making an exhibition of myself before the whole company.’

Nicholas was tactful. ‘We are glad to have you back.’

‘Sebastian and I were yoked together in lunacy.’

‘Were you?’

‘Both of us succumbed to mad courtesans.’

‘Sebastian paid the higher price.’

‘I’ll not forget that.’ Firethorn sighed. ‘His father and his sister have much to thank you for, Nick, and my own gratitude will be never-ending.’ He put an affectionate arm around the other’s shoulders. ‘Look at this place. We have known such joys, such victories, such acclamation in this inn yard. Hector of Troy has fought here. And Vincentio, and King Richard, and Pompey the Great, and Black Antonio, and Julius Caesar, and Troilus, and the mighty King Gondar.’

‘Do not forget Jenny, sir.’

‘Jenny?’

‘The chestnut mare.’

‘Ah, yes! It was Jenny who conquered Nimbus.’

‘She was the maddest courtesan of them all.’