Read Kissing Shakespeare Online
Authors: Pamela Mingle
“And betray Thomas? My uncle will be locked up for a few days, pay his fines, and be sent home. Thomas, I fear, would have a much different end. Would you want him to suffer like that poor priest they burned in Preston?”
“Of course not! Maybe they would have deported him, or thrown him in jail, and he could have come home with your uncle. It’s just … well, we want to get rid of him, don’t we?”
“Deported him? He may have spent time elsewhere, but he’s an Englishman! Do not be so naïve, Olivia. We will find another way. We
have
another way, if only we could set it in motion.” Despite his bruises, he managed to send me an evil look.
I sighed. “I’m working on it. I’ll let you know when I have something to report.” He probably thought I was making it up to appease him. “I’ve been worrying about the sheriff asking us about Will. Do you think he has some reason for going after him?”
“His family are known Catholics, but so are many others.”
“That last conversation I overheard between Will and Thomas—I forgot to tell you one part of it. Now it seems maybe it’s important.”
“Pray do not keep me in suspense,” Stephen said with a slight groan.
“Sorry.” I related what Thomas had said about Will’s father making his “spiritual testament.” “Do you know what that is? Will said he came north with the priest who witnessed it.”
“I’ve heard a rumor that some of the Jesuits have been traveling around, holding covert meetings and urging people to sign a document promising loyalty to the Catholic Church. ’Tis possible Shakespeare’s father signed such a thing.”
“And could something like that make the situation more dangerous for Will and his family than for other Catholics?”
“I know not, but ’tis all the more reason to move things along.”
“I was thinking maybe the sheriff knows about Mr.—Master—Shakespeare signing the spiritual testament. That could explain his interest in Will.”
“It is of no great import. A Jesuit about is a far greater threat.”
“Shh. Someone’s coming,” I said.
Thomas Cook entered the room, with Will close behind. “Mistress Olivia,” Thomas said. “Is he—”
“I shall be fine,” Stephen broke in. “I do not feel so bad as I must appear.” Thomas strode over to the bed.
“Please, be seated,” I said, rising and gesturing toward the settle.
Thomas shook his head, so I reclaimed my seat. “Master Langford, how can I ever thank you for what you did? You saved me, so that I might continue God’s work. I am most grateful, sir.”
“You would have done the same were our positions reversed.” Stephen glanced at me. “Olivia did her part as well. She bore the sheriff’s bullying bravely and never gave in, though he questioned her harshly.”
Master Cook turned to me. “If that is the case, I owe both of you my gratitude.”
Stephen spoke to Will. “How did you fare in your session with the sheriff’s men? Were you hurt?”
Will stepped closer to us and shook his head. “In truth, the man who questioned Jennet and me seemed quite disinterested in the whole matter. Especially after Jennet told him she was a Protestant, and her father a minister. Soon afterward, our interrogator was called away and we were told to stay put.”
He was “called away” to help beat Stephen to a bloody pulp
.
“Neither Fulke nor his father was harmed. ’Twas the two of you who suffered the brunt of the sheriff’s wrath,” Thomas said. “And Master Hoghton, of course.”
“Master Cook, may I ask a favor of you?” Stephen said, trying to sit up. He made it about halfway.
“Anything,” Thomas answered.
“My aunt. We must summon her home. Would you speak to the steward?”
Will caught my eye and motioned to me while they were talking. Taking my hand, he led me toward the passage. He leaned so close to me I could feel his breath on my cheek. “I am sorry for your brother, but I am most happy that the sheriff and his men did not harm you, sweet Olivia.” He pressed my hand before releasing it.
Hmm
. I wished Stephen could have overheard that little exchange. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so hard on me.
When I overheard Thomas talking about death, my head snapped around and I walked back to the bed.
His face sober, he removed his cap and sighed from deep within. “I am prepared to die, expect to die in this great cause. But I do not believe the time is right. There is more work to be done.”
I was horrified. “How will you know when it is the right time? In truth, ’tis never the right time to submit yourself to … to arrest and torture, in my opinion, that is.”
Shut up, Olivia. You’re babbling like an idiot
.
They all stared at me like I was some clueless girl. Which I was.
“I know it is coming,” Thomas said. “Yet I do not care to leave this life until I am confident the true church is restored in England.”
“Thomas, you have traveled about and given people the courage to practice their true faith again. Do you wish to continue in this way?” Stephen asked.
The passion so often reflected in Thomas’s expressions leaped out at us, and I heard it in his voice too. “I want to save the queen herself,” he said. “And her privy councilors. Her court. I want them to see the error of their ways and return to the old faith!”
Will and I looked at each other and I lifted my brows. He compressed his lips, a worried expression crossing his face.
“Sir, how can you possibly bring about such a thing?” Stephen asked.
“I have asked him that very question,” Will said.
Thomas smiled ruefully. “I cannot say now. But you will know, you will all know, in good time.”
“Maybe ’tis time for you to leave Hoghton Tower, go on to another home that is not under suspicion. You would be safer,” Stephen said.
Thomas raked a hand through his hair. “God bless you, but I cannot leave. Although I know I would be welcome in many places, I have need of the library here.” He put his hat on and bowed. “Now we must leave you to your rest. Thank you both again for what you did. I shall pray for you.”
When their footsteps had faded away, I looked at Stephen and said, “Nice try.”
He smiled, but his face looked haggard. “If only Thomas would leave here. That would be the simplest way of preventing his influence over Shakespeare.”
“Did you notice how Will looks at him? You can tell he’s worried about Thomas’s agenda. It’s almost as if he feels it’s his duty to protect him.”
“Which means the threat to Shakespeare is double edged. Even if he decides against taking his vows, he may feel some moral obligation to safeguard Cook’s life.”
I sank onto the settle. “As if we didn’t have enough to worry about.” An idea struck me. “Stephen, have you ever thought maybe Thomas is writing something? Why else would he need the library?”
He looked at me, considering what I’d said. “You may be right. Something to persuade the queen.”
“He’s determined to stay until he’s completed his work, whatever it is.”
Stephen’s eyelids were drooping. We’d been talking for far too long, and he must be exhausted.
I rose. “Before I go, please drink some of Jennet’s concoction. She asked me to insist.”
“Aye, ’twould probably do me good.”
I helped him sit up. He clung to me while I put the cup to his mouth, and drank all of it in one gulp. “God’s breath, that was vile!”
I laughed. “I’m sure it will have you feeling better in no time.” I set the cup down and turned to leave, but felt Stephen’s touch on my arm.
“Stay with me until I fall asleep. It should take only a minute or two.”
I sank back onto the settle. “May I ask you one question?”
“Go ahead. I know I could not stop you.”
I was pretty sure that wasn’t a compliment. I sneaked a look around to make sure we were alone and lowered my voice to a whisper. “The visions … Couldn’t you have foreseen what was going to happen with the sheriff and prevented it?”
“It does not work that way. I cannot summon them at will.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“Olivia, since I have no wish to see the future, I have not tried.” He shifted and moaned, and I could see I was upsetting him with my questions. “Go.” He gestured weakly toward the door. “If you persist in tormenting me, I shall do without your company.”
“I’m sorry.” I reached down and touched his cheek where the worst of the bruising was. “Does this hurt?”
“Not there. Here.” He slid my hand slowly under the coverlet, placing it over his ribs. So close to his heart, I could feel its life-affirming, steady beat. “That’s where Simon kicked you,” I said, not moving my hand.
“Mmm.” He was drifting off. Reluctantly, I slipped my hand away and dropped back onto the settle, where I remained until Stephen’s breathing became measured and even. And until my heartbeat slowed to its normal rate.
A
FEW DAYS AFTER THE BEATING
, Stephen had healed enough to sit by the fire and read or, if he could find a willing partner, play cards. I looked in on him before heading off to meet Will. Our get-together had been postponed until today, Tuesday, because of the sheriff’s raid. I knew he was expecting me because he mentioned it last night after dinner.
Stephen held an open book in his lap, but his gaze was focused somewhere off in the distance. “Olivia,” he said, when my presence finally registered.
“I can’t stay. I just wanted to check on you.”
“Ah. You tempt me with your company only to disappoint me. Who has claim upon you?”
I gave him my best woman-of-mystery look. “This morning is my meeting with Will. I mustn’t keep him waiting.”
“Hmph. Off you go, then.”
“See you at lunch.”
His eyes held a bewildered look, and I knew he was dying to find out what I had up my sleeve. I waved and hurried away.
“Fare thee well,” he muttered under his breath. I smiled to myself.
On my way to the classroom, I heard footsteps behind me. Curious, I turned and glimpsed Samuel, the man who’d carried my trunk upstairs on the first day. He was holding a folded and sealed paper in his hand.
“Is that for Master Shakespeare, Samuel?”
“Aye. Father Thom—that is, Master Cook asked me to deliver it to him.”
“I’m on my way to meet with Will. May I take it for you?”
“I do not know.… I-I promised I’d put it directly into Master Will’s hands.”
I didn’t want to get the man in trouble, so I smiled and said, “You must do so, then.” He hurried off ahead of me after a quick bow. The letter had been sealed, I could see, so I wouldn’t have been able to read it anyway. And the handwriting would have been a challenge for sure. Why would Thomas write Will a letter, since they saw each other every day and had plenty of opportunities to talk?
“Good morrow, Will,” I said when I entered his classroom.
He leaped up from a table that he’d obviously claimed as his personal workspace. It was situated near the windows, and the sunlight streaming in dappled the papers and books spread out on its surface. The letter was not among them.
Damn!
After kissing me on both cheeks, Will said, “Welcome, mistress. I have been looking forward to your visit.”
“Samuel passed me on his way here. I offered to bring your letter, but he insisted upon doing so himself.”
“Aye, well, I shall read it later. Come, sit down.” He led me to one of the student tables. After I was seated, he hurried off and collected some of the books and papers I’d noticed before. When he sat down across from me, his eyes shone with excitement. I couldn’t help smiling at him.
“I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to be acquainted with someone who is interested in my writing! Although you may change your mind once you have heard some of it.”
“I have a feeling it will please me exceedingly,” I said.
He leaned forward. “Since my arrival at Hoghton Tower, I’ve been composing a play! Scattered scenes that have come to me little by little. Would you give me leave to read some of it?”
Now, this was interesting
. “I love drama and the stage! Tell me a little about it before you begin.”
“ ’Tis about a lady named Kate, who’s known as a shrew. Her father betroths her to a man she hates, Peter. He’s a braggart, full of himself, but once he learns her father is wealthy, he is determined to have her and tame her.”