Read Online To Tempt the Devil (A Novel of Lord Hawkesbury's Players) by C.J. Archer - Free Book Online Page A

other play put on by this company or indeed Lord Chamberlain’s Men?”
    “You speak of yourselves in the same breath as that illustrious troupe! You’re a fool as well as an arse, Style.”
    Teeth bared, Roger took a step forward but was held back by Edward and Henry. Rafe made no move to assist them. He simply crossed his arms and watched the proceedings with interest.
    “You…you vindictive swine !” Roger shouted. “Selfish, ox-brained…pizzle!”
    Gripp laughed. “That’s all you can come up with? Maybe Jonson could pen better insults for you. He certainly has a knack for them if The Spoils of War is an indication.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with that play,” Roger snapped. “It contains nothing of a treasonous nature.”
    “I didn’t say it was treasonous.”
    “Then what’s wrong with it?” Edward asked.
    Gripp smoothed down his moustache with his finger and thumb, drawing out the dramatic pause as expertly as any master actor. “I don’t need to answer to any of you.”
    Lizzy held her breath as Roger exploded with a series of curses that made even Freddie’s eyes pop.
    “I think we get the idea,” Rafe said in that calm but commanding voice of his. It got everyone’s attention, even Roger’s midtirade.
    “Exactly what I was going to say,” Gripp said, triumphant.
    But Roger would not be silenced. “All this hatred because Margaret chose me over you,” he said with a sneer.
    That seemed to put a prick into Gripp and deflate him.
    “It’s no surprise to anyone that she did,” Roger went on. “Look at you with your sour face and your dreary clothes. You are a dull, small man with an inflated opinion of himself. Leaving you was the best thing she ever did.”
    Gripp’s cheeks reddened above his magnificent whiskers. “You stole her,” he hissed. “You seduced her with your swaggering hips and your lewd ways.” His gaze swept around the room, taking in each of the onlookers. “You’re all vile creatures, acting in your crude plays for a barbaric audience. At least the Lord Chamberlain’s Men are a refined lot.” Someone—Henry?—snorted. “They’re the only company fit to perform in front of the queen. The only ones I’ll allow to perform for her. You and your men ” —he jerked his head at Antony— “will never grace her audience chamber again with your filthy ways.”
    “Filthy!” Antony cried. “I am certainly not filthy, unlike some others I could mention.” He gave Freddie a pointed glare. Freddie merely shrugged.
    Lizzy edged closer to Antony and squeezed his hand. “Pay him no mind,” she whispered.
    “I don’t care about court,” Roger said to Gripp. His lips stretched into a white, flat line. “This is where the money is, where the audience truly appreciates our art.”
    He was lying. Roger cared more about performing at court than he did about his own children. He idolized the queen and adored staging plays for her. It appealed to his snobbish nature.
    “I will ruin you,” Gripp went on. “I’ll make sure your audiences grow bored of you, and when they grow bored, they’ll maul you out there. They’ll make you wish you’d never become an actor, make you want to crawl back in here. I’ll ruin you, Roger Style, and your troupe.”
    With a frenzied cry, Roger ran at him again. Once more Henry and Edward had to hold him back. Rafe shifted closer but didn’t interfere. He seemed more interested than a stranger should be.
    “You destroy my company and I will kill you,” Roger spat.
    Gripp laughed and teased his moustache. “Of course you will.”
    “You might not think me capable.” Roger’s gaze switched to Rafe and lingered before focusing once more on Gripp. “But I know someone who is.”
    Rafe straightened to his full, formidable height and his face became strangely blank, not empty but masked. A chill crept down Lizzy’s spine. He was once more the youth she remembered from her childhood—cold, detached, ruthless.
    “I think it’s