Much Ado About Murder (Shakespeare & Smythe 3) - Page 11

“And you are a prating capon.”

“Dissentious rogue!”

“Soused goose!”

“Carrion kite!”

“Perfidious wretch!”

“Churlish minion!”

“Mincing queen!”

“Oh, you venemous monster! I do not mince! ‘Tis but a slight limp in my leg.”

“Limpness resides in more than just thy leg, methinks.”

“You abominable apparition! Ungrateful bounder! Thus you impugn me when I have spoken up for you and fed you and defended you-”

“Defended me? ‘Gainst whom?”

“Well… ‘gainst certain individuals who wouldst’ have others think base things of you.”

“What individuals? What base things? What others?”

“Nay, now, let us speak no more of this. ‘Twould serve no useful purpose.”

“Who speaks ill of me?” persisted Smythe. “Someone in the company?”

“Well, now, I did not say that…”

“Not in the company? Then who… surely not Elizabeth!”

“Nay, not Elizabeth. What have I to do with her or she with me? It matters not. Forget I even mentioned it.”

“But I do not even know what was mentioned!”

“So much the better, then. Let sleeping dogs lie. ‘Tis for the best.”

“Will!”

“Nay, I have said all that I shall say. Thus let there be an end to it.”

Smythe folded his arms and gazed at him truculently. “Ah. So I see. No one has said anything, is that not so? You are but baiting me again, as is your wont.”

“Just so, Tuck. You have found me out. See, you are much too clever for me. I cannot outwit you.”

“Nay, you throw in your cards too quickly. Someone truly said something about me, did they not?”

“Not at all. ‘Twas all in jest, I tell you. You had it right the first time. I did but bait you, as I so often do.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

Smythe lay back on the bed and put his hands behind his head, frowning as he stared up at the ceiling. He gave an irritated, sidelong glance toward Shakespeare, who had turned back to the sheets of parchment spread out on his writing desk. Smythe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He cleared his throat. He wiggled his foot back and forth. He tried hard to lie still. He clicked his teeth together. Finally, he could stand it no longer.

“Will, honestly,

Tags: Simon Hawke Shakespeare & Smythe Mystery
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