Kissing Shakespeare (37 page)

I nodded, and gave Will a brief explanation of why I’d never trusted her. “A part of me still feels sympathy for her, though. I cannot help wondering if her father will force her to marry the man she finds so repulsive. She did what they asked of her, even though things didn’t turn out the way they wanted.”

“For her sake, I hope not. Perhaps she still has a chance for a happy marriage,” Stephen said.

“What will you do now, Will?” I asked.

“I think I can answer that.” It was Alexander. “I’ve been looking for the three of you.” Stephen and Will shot to their feet.

“Be seated, Uncle,” Stephen said.

Alexander claimed Stephen’s place on the settle. “Will, on the morrow I am sending you to my friend Sir Thomas Hesketh, a relation of my wife. He resides at Rufford Hall. He’s an amiable man, and I believe you will be happy there.” He smiled at Will. “Sir Thomas keeps a company of players.”

“Indeed!” Will said, his eyes dancing. “I shall be sorry to leave here, but I believe the stage is my true vocation.”

“Do not forget about your writing!” I said.

Will grinned. “The two blend well.”

“I think it would be in your best interests to change your surname,” Alexander said. “Later, when all this business is finished, you can change it back.”

“ ’Tis a good plan,” Stephen said, looking at Will. “If the sheriff is inclined to search for you, it would make things more difficult for him.”

“Where is this Rufford Hall, sir?” Will asked.

“ ’Tis twelve miles southwest of here, roughly,” Alexander said. “Nephew, you’re familiar with it, are you not?”

“Aye. My sister and I shall be happy to escort Will. ’Tis on our path home.” Stephen shifted his glance toward me. “Our parents have need of us. It is time to take our leave of Hoghton Tower, is it not, Olivia?”

I nodded. “Aye. ’Tis past time.”

“I shall lament the loss of your company,” Alexander said, looking sad.

We finished our ale and said good night.

In the morning, I hugged Bess and thanked her for everything she’d done for me. Elizabeth and Alexander awaited us in the courtyard. They kissed me goodbye on both cheeks.

“We shall hope to see you again soon, dear Olivia,” Elizabeth said.

“It is my hope too, Aunt.” I couldn’t imagine how Stephen would explain everything to his family. It was one of the few reasons I was happy to be leaving.

“God keep you, Niece,” Alexander said as he helped me onto my mount. “It has been a joy having you with us.”

I felt like the lowest of life-forms. Possibly lower.

For once, I was glad to be on the sidesaddle. It allowed me to look around and behind me more easily, to soak up my last view of Hoghton Tower. The forest, the tilting green and rose garden. I wouldn’t be coming back, I knew. Not in this century, anyway.

At first, our route took us by pastures where sheep and cows grazed, looking like figures in a landscape painting. Sometimes the road cut through farmlands, with enclosed areas for crops. In other places, the forest grew thick enough that the road seemed barely able to forge a path through the trees. Under the canopy of leaves, wild garlic and bluebells were beginning to bloom.

Where we could, we urged the horses into a trot. But the road was deeply rutted from the recent rain, and we didn’t want to risk an injury to one of the animals or to ourselves. So most of the time our pace was fairly slow, and we rode three abreast whenever we could.

“I’m worried about our uncle,” I said. “Will the sheriff make good on his threats?”

Stephen and Will glanced at each other. “I believe it depends on what happens with Campion,” Stephen said. “If he is captured and brought to trial, Alexander will be forgotten. If he is not caught, the sheriff may return to exact his revenge.”

“I am still aghast that they intended to arrest
me
,” Will said, shaking his head. “I cannot imagine what I should have done if they’d forced me to testify against Father Campion.”

“ ’Tis still possible, Will! Be cautious. Stay close to Rufford Hall until this matter is settled and do not speak of it to anyone,” Stephen warned.

Dropping back to ride alone, I gradually forced myself to think about what would come next. After we said our goodbyes to Will, I’d be returning to the present. If only I didn’t have to leave Stephen, I’d be happy to go home. The truth was, I ached to talk to my grandfather and Macy, and even to my parents. I missed acting, TV, movies, my iPod, my laptop, and, most of all, modern plumbing. But I’d give it all up in a heartbeat if I thought Stephen wanted me to stay. I was almost positive I would. Wouldn’t I?

But I’d looked at it from all angles and had to admit that Stephen had never given me any indication he wanted me to stay. To ease the unrelenting ache in my heart, I told myself that he did care for me. Maybe even loved me a little.

About midmorning we reached a crossroads, and Stephen reined in Bolingbroke. Will and I followed suit.

“Will, can you ride on to Rufford Hall without us? Our home lies in the other direction.”

We all dismounted to bid each other goodbye, and I looked at Shakespeare, feeling a surge of emotion. “I wanted to say, Will, it has been an honor to know you.” I hesitated a minute, choking up. “I believe you chose well. Let Edmund Campion attend to men’s souls. You have the power to capture their hearts and minds.”

Holding my hands, he kissed me on both cheeks. “You have been a valued friend to me, Mistress Olivia, always believing in me. I shall never forget you.” His gray eyes seemed genuinely sad.

“Trust me, Will. I couldn’t forget
you
if I tried.”

He slanted his eyes at me, but kept his thoughts to himself. “Thank you for … for helping me find the way to my true destiny. I hope we shall meet again someday.”

I blinked.
Not me. Stephen, maybe
. “Now, go and make a name for yourself,” I said, giving his hands one more squeeze.

Stephen and Will hugged, clapping each other on the back. “You’ll have to ford Martin Mere,” Stephen said.

“Thank you,” Will said. “I’ll manage.” He remounted, and Stephen and I watched him ride away.

“W
E DID IT
,” I said, glancing at Stephen. I should have felt triumphant and insanely happy, but I didn’t. Not now. Stephen’s reaction was subdued too. We turned the horses and rode in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?”

“To a deserted abbey. It was pillaged during the Dissolution, but the ruins still stand.”

“That was King Henry’s doing, right? That man was a real tyrant, wasn’t he?”

Stephen grimaced. “On your TV, I noted that England is still ruled by monarchs, even in your time.”

“But they don’t have any real power. Their role is more …” I struggled for the right word. “… symbolic, I guess you’d say. They do a lot of charity work and christen ships and hold state dinners, that kind of thing.”

“I see.” He chuckled. “Far less dangerous that way.”

Up ahead, I glimpsed the abbey ruins rising from a grassy area surrounded by woods on three sides. Nearby, rolling farmland stretched out as far as the eye could see. I recognized gorse and rhododendron bushes growing wild among the fallen stones, which were all higgledy-piggledy. A tower remained intact, standing watch over the countryside.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

We dismounted and Stephen took my hand, leading me through the ruins, pointing out the cloisters, the cruciform shape of the old church, the monks’ cells. Sunlight dappled the stonework here and there. Birdsong and the whir of insects distracted me, but even so, I felt a heaviness weighing me down. We walked out into the sunlight.

“I have brought your things, Olivia, just as I promised. I want you to change into your modern clothing.” He pulled a bundle from behind Bolingbroke’s saddle. My backpack.

“No, I can’t. Don’t—”

“I beg you, sweetheart. Do as I ask, and then we’ll talk.”

I sighed, knowing it was futile to protest. I found a giant stone to stand behind and removed my traveling clothes. I pulled on my jeans, T-shirt, and hoodie, feeling myself sliding back toward the present, to Miranda’s life. After tugging on my boots, I fastened my watch, noticing it was about six in the morning in Boston.

When I reappeared, Stephen said, “Let’s sit a moment.” He pointed to a huge, flat piece of stone.

Neither of us said anything at first. I leaned back, placing my weight on my hands, letting the sun shine on my face. My foot swung, seemingly on its own, my boot heel hitting the stone over and over.

“I cannot think how I shall get on without you, but ’tis time for you to go,” Stephen said at last. I turned to look at him, fighting back the tears I knew I could keep at bay for only so long.

“But first, I have a gift for you,” he said.

“You do?”

“Do not look so surprised. Did you think I would let you go without giving you a token to remember me by?”

As if I could ever forget him. He handed me a small object wrapped in a white linen handkerchief. I opened it carefully, and a pendant fell out into my palm. A small oval, it was set with a sapphire surrounded by tiny pearls. I gasped. It was stunning.

“It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me when Mary and I were betrothed. I—I had planned to give it to her as a wedding gift.”

My heart surged. “Oh, Stephen. Are you sure? What if—”

“It means the world to me for
you
to have it, Olivia.”

I smiled up at him, caught his eyes with my own. “Then I accept. Thank you.”

“Would you like to put it on?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“I brought a length of ribbon.” Stephen threaded the ribbon through the circle on the pendant’s top edge. “Let me tie it around your neck.” He held it out and I lifted my hair as he knotted it. I started to turn back, but he stopped me, kissing the back of my neck. The touch of his lips sent a thrill through me.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you there for so long, Olivia.”

“I guess I’m Miranda now. Or about to be.”

“Miranda, then. By whatever name, you will always be dear to me.”

And then I lost it. My vision blurred, and the tears spilled over and down my cheeks. “I could stay,” I said, my voice coming out all squeaky and quivery. “I’d like to stay, if you want me to.” I swiveled back toward him.

“ ‘If I want you to.’ ” Stephen laughed, a short, bitten-off sound.

“Well. Do you?” I gazed up at him, willing him to say it. Even if I couldn’t stay, even despite all the obstacles, I wanted him to want me to.

“Miranda, you have become my other self. When I am not with you, I am thinking of you. But I must let you go, even though it is the last thing I want.”

“Come back with me, then. We could make it work.” I rushed my words, afraid he’d stop me. “You lived in the present before, and this time I’d be able to help you fit in. It would be easier than when you were all alone.”

Stephen grasped my arms. “Do you imagine I haven’t thought of that? That I haven’t worked out every possibility in my mind?” Abruptly he let me go and leaped to his feet. He walked a few steps away, and then spun back toward me. “I am a man of this era, made for this time. This is what I know.” He gestured expansively. “This is my world. You are a young woman of your time, one I am not accustomed to.”

“Why can’t I stay here, then?”

“Ask yourself if that is what you truly want. Never to see your family again. To give up your dream of acting. To be deprived of all opportunities offered to young ladies of your century.” He walked back over, pulled me up, and wiped my tears away with the handkerchief that had held the pendant.

“Aye, you could stay. We could marry, have a family, and you could do all the work a dutiful wife must do, while I supervised the farm and tenants. But I know that would not make you happy.”

“Yes, it would!”

“We are … you are too young. If I allowed you to stay, my heart would break to see the unhappiness in your eyes. I … cannot go through that again.”

I dabbed at my wet cheeks with his handkerchief. As much as it hurt to admit it, I knew he was right. I would love him with all my heart, but in the end, it wouldn’t be enough. I’d long for everything I couldn’t have, and that would kill the love between us. Not right away, but someday.