She looped her arms about his neck, his hat falling to the ground as she laced her fingers through his hair and held on to him. His tongue traced the soft bow of her lips, urging her to open to him, welcome him, before he pressed inside to taste her.
She met him with a soft moan that drove his need to even hotter heights. They fell together to the ground, wrapped around each other, their kiss deepening.
Rob traced his mouth over her jaw, the softness of her ear, the curve of her throat, until he rested his head on her shoulder and just held on to her. Breathed in deeply of the warm, summer rose scent of her.
‘I wish we could never leave this place,’ she whispered. ‘Do you think the fairies would carry us off to live in their realm forever?’ She gently cradled his head against her and kissed his brow.
‘They would make you their fairy queen.’
Anna laughed softly. ‘And you their clown. But surely in fairy realms a queen and a clown could be happy together.’
‘Happy forever, I’m sure.’
‘Then while we are here we are in our very own realm,’ she said. ‘Nothing can touch us—not here.’
They held on to each other in silence as the light turned sparkling and golden around them and time itself seemed to stand still. It was only them, Robert and Anna, in the perfect silence of their own realm, watched by fairy eyes that kept away the wider world with the force of their spells—or by the force of Rob’s own will, that wanted only one more moment with her.
But not even the most ferocious will, nor the spells of the fairies, could keep away the world forever.
Chapter Seventeen
Anna turned before the looking glass on her chamber wall, twisting her head one way then the other as she studied herself. She wasn’t sure it was really her, Anna Barrett, who stood there, even as the reflected woman obeyed her movements.
Lady Elizabeth had loaned Anna her own maid again to help her dress and fix her hair for the ball, and the woman had worked wonders. She could almost be a fairy queen in truth, with her dark hair piled high in smooth, shining waves, pinned with pearl skewers and crowned with a delicate wire and pearl headdress.
She wore another gown borrowed from the White Heron’s costume coffers—a bodice and overskirt of white and gold brocade, with a quilted petticoat of deep crimson velvet. Lady Elizabeth had also sent jewels—pearl earrings and a long, looping strand of more pearls—and a white feather fan and silver pomander hung from her waist.
Such a creature could surely sit upon a golden throne in Rob’s enchanted grove, presiding over the fairy revels. But was it her?
‘It is me tonight,’ she said with a laugh, and reached for her bottle of scent.
Ever since the visit to Rob’s fairy circle, ever since he had kissed her there and held her so close, she’d felt—different. Lighter. As if she drifted above the ground on a golden cloud, dancing with each step. She wished she knew the antidote to keep the spell from fading away. She wished that she could always feel just like this—always.
She turned away from the glass and the false image it held to tempt her. Soon this party would end. The days were flying past, faster with every moment, and soon she would go back to Southwark. Back to looking after her father, keeping his ledgers, badgering bawdy housekeepers for their rent. Wearing grey gowns and living backstage, behind the action and noise and colour.
‘But in the meantime I will dance and dance,’ she declared aloud. She whirled round and round in her fine skirts, whirling until she was dizzy and laughing.
Until she collided with a solid, strong male chest.
She heard the sound of Rob’s laughter, and he reached out to catch her in his arms before she could topple to the ground.
‘Have you begun the ball so early, my lady?’ he asked. ‘And without me?’
‘I thought I should practise my steps,’ she said, breathless from her spinning—and from his touch. ‘I fear that particular dance might be rather unpolished for company.’
‘Not once they’ve had their fill of Edward’s fine Malmsey wine.’ Rob nuzzled his lips just below her ear, his breath warm on her skin. ‘You smell delicious, Anna.’
She wanted to melt deeper into his arms, seize him by the folds of his crimson velvet doublet and drag him closer and closer, but she could hear the faint strains of music from downstairs. She pushed him away.
‘And you will muss Lady Elizabeth’s maid’s fine efforts,’ she said. ‘I fear one touch will bring this great edifice collapsing down.’
Rob kissed her hand in a most gallant, courtly manner, bowing low over it. ‘You will be the most beautiful woman there. All the men will be brawling for the chance to dance with you.’
‘I should hope not,’ Anna said sternly. ‘I should hate to see Lord Edward’s grand hall wrecked for the sake of my clumsy pavane.’
‘Nonetheless, you will have many partners tonight.’ Rob suddenly looked serious. ‘Edward has invited all the local gentry and some friends from London, as well as his house guests. The ball will be very crowded, and some of them are people you would not like to know.’
Anna laughed, but she was a bit discomfited by the sudden solemn look on his face. ‘Rob, I collect my father’s rent from Mother Nan and the proprietor of a bear pit. I work in a theatre. I am quite accustomed to the less genteel sort.’
‘Some of these people make Mother Nan look the image of honesty,’ he answered. ‘Just try and stay close to me. And don’t listen to anything they might tell you.’
‘Oh, Robert. I can take care of myself—even amongst preening courtiers.’
‘I know you can.’ He kissed her hand again, a lingering caress, and held on to her as if he didn’t want to let her go. ‘But you should not have to.’
The music grew louder, and Anna feared if she stood there with him a moment longer she wouldn’t want to leave. ‘Shall we go down now?’
Rob held out his arm for her to take and gave her a bow. ‘Your revels await, my lady.’
Anna laid her hand lightly on his arm, feeling his tight and corded muscles under her touch. He led her down the stairs to the foyer, where they joined a stream of guests pressing towards the great hall. It seemed as crowded as when the audience surged through the doors of the White Heron when a play was announced, with a jumble of laughter and shouted greetings, the hum of excitement, as if something was just about to begin.
As she was swept into the hall on the tide of people, Anna was glad of her borrowed finery. Everyone here was dressed as if at Court, in embroidered silks, fine lace ruffs and jewels. The air grew warmer as everyone pressed in around her, smelling of oiled perfumes, lavender sachets and wine. She held tightly to Rob’s arm as they jostled around her, and thought Lord Edward must be popular indeed for everyone to journey to his house for a gathering when they might have stayed in London and seen the same faces any day at Whitehall.
Then they pushed their way farther into the hall and the crowd fanned out and grew thinner. She could see the musicians in the gallery, half hidden above the room. They played a lively galliard—the newest Italian version of the dance that was all the rage at Court and which Lord Henshaw’s Men were attempting to learn for their next production at the White Heron. A line of couples along the centre of the hall performed it now, leaping and spinning lightly in a blur of stained-glass colours and flashing feet.
The long tables were pushed to the walls and laden with silver ewers of wine and platters of rare sweetmeats. Liveried footmen circulated among the laughing crowds with heavy trays loaded with full goblets.
Rob caught up two of them and handed one to Anna as he led her around the edge of the dance floor. She sipped at it and found it was a rich, honeyed punch, sweet and deceptive in its strength. It went straight to her head and made her laugh.
‘I’ve never seen such a party before,’ she said, dodging around a brocade train.
‘There are revels aplenty in Southwark,’ Rob said.
Anna thought of Southwark—the sound
s of screams of laughter and shattering glass from taverns, the shrieks of Winchester geese in the streets. ‘Aye, there is drink and noise aplenty at all times. Just not…’
‘Not as well-dressed?’ Rob said.
Anna laughed. ‘Not quite so fine, no.’
‘A rich raiment can hide so much behind its glitter,’ he said, in a low, harsh, bitter tone.
Anna looked at him, startled. What did he hide behind those words, those watchful eyes?
‘Robert! Mistress Barrett!’ Lord Edward called. ‘So you join us at last.’
Anna turned to see Edward and Elizabeth standing together near the vast fireplace, both of them garbed in exquisite blue and gold satin, like peacocks in a glorious garden. Elizabeth’s hair was smoothed back and twined with a gold halolike headdress, while sapphires sparkled around her neck and on the bodice of her gown.
‘Robert, you must save me,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Edward refuses to dance tonight, and I cannot stand still when I hear such music.’
‘Refuses to dance with such beauty?’ Rob said, bowing to Elizabeth and holding out his hand to her. ‘His foolishness is to my gain, my lady, if you will allow me to be your partner.’
Elizabeth laughed and took his hand. ‘Most gladly I will. You’re a better dancer than he is, anyway.’
Edward snorted, but Anna could see the glow of laughter in his eyes as he looked at Elizabeth. ‘Go, then, minx—abandon me for a capering clown of a dancer. I will keep Mistress Barrett here with me, instead.’
Rob and Elizabeth hurried away, swallowed by the thick knots of revellers, and Anna was left with Lord Edward. He gave her another goblet of the delicious wine and took away her empty one.
‘What do you think of our little gathering here, Mistress Barrett?’ he asked.
‘“Little,” indeed, Lord Edward,’ Anna said. ‘I doubt there is anyone left in England outside this house tonight. You do have a great many friends.’
Edward surveyed the gathered company around him with narrowed eyes. ‘It doesn’t take much to lure anyone here to Hart Castle. A little wine, a little music. It is always useful to know people, Mistress Barrett, to hear their gossip and find out what is happening in their minds. To stay always a step ahead of them.’
Anna studied him over the silver rim of her goblet. There was a hardness about him as he watched his own party—a cool distance. He was there, a part of them, their leader even in fashion and courtly power, and yet he was so distant from it all.
Just as Robert was, when he thought no one watched him. When she felt that terrible longing to know what he hid in his heart.
‘That does not sound like friendship, my lord,’ she said.
‘True friendship is a rare thing, indeed, Mistress Barrett, as I’m sure you know,’ he answered. He looked at her and smiled, and those hard eyes softened. ‘That is why I’m glad Rob is here tonight.’
‘Is he your friend, then? Not merely your pet poet, as I hear Lord Southampton keeps?’
Edward laughed. ‘I pity anyone who would attempt to keep Rob Alden as a pet anything, Mistress Barrett. He is as unpredictable and changeable as the lion in the Queen’s menagerie. But as a friend he is loyal and honest. Aye, I do count him as a friend. We have known each other since we were boys.’
Anna was most intrigued by his words, by this rare glimpse of Robert before she knew him. Before he was Rob Alden, idol of the London playhouses. ‘He did say he grew up in the village here.’
‘His father was the local book binder and glover, and like me Rob had no brothers near his age to make mischief with. My older brother was much older, and my younger but a babe in arms then. My parents were often gone from home to serve at Court, and I had great freedom to roam the estate and get into trouble. Rob’s father was kind to me—let me hang about in his workshop when I was bored and lonely. Rob and I became friends, running wild over the countryside.’
‘And you knew each other all these years?’
Edward shook his head. ‘Nay. When my younger brother was in leading strings my parents sent me away to be a page in Lord Burghley’s household, so I could learn courtly ways. When I returned years later, as master of Hart Castle, Rob and his family were long gone. I didn’t find him again until I saw one of his plays in London. But we still have much in common.’
A lord and a player? Anna longed to know what those commonalities could be. ‘A love of poetry?’
‘And much else,’ Edward said with a smile. ‘Such as fair ladies and wild schemes to make things right again.’
Anna laughed. ‘I think anyone who would befriend Robert would have to favour wild schemes, Lord Edward. Such is the life of the theatre.’
‘Do you enjoy wildness, then, Mistress Barrett?’
‘I certainly didn’t before,’ she said. ‘But I am coming to see the advantage of a certain variety in life.’
Rob and Elizabeth danced past them in a peacock-blue whirl, and Elizabeth waved and laughed. Edward waved back at her, watching her as if she was the only person in the whole riotous hall.
‘You’re quite right, Mistress Barrett,’ he said. ‘There is much to be said for variety in life.’
The dancers parted into two lines with the figures of the dance, and for a moment she could see down the whole length of the room. A new guest appeared in the doorway, a burly, bearded man, red-faced and trussed in a gold-and-russet doublet, with a group of men gathered behind him. They watched the merriment with glowers on their hard faces and their hands on the daggers at their waists, while the bearded man beamed.
Edward’s shoulders stiffened.
‘Who is that?’ Anna asked. ‘Is it someone without an invitation?’
As she watched him, Edward slowly relaxed and gave her a smile. ‘On the contrary, Mistress Barrett. That is my esteemed neighbour, Sir Thomas Sheldon. Perhaps you have heard of him?’
‘I have, indeed,’ Anna murmured. Thomas Sheldon was known in the environs of Southwark for being a cheat at cards and a rough customer in the brothels. Even by the lax standards of the neighbourhood he was a man no one liked to see coming.
Luckily for the White Heron he favoured Lord Weston’s Men at another theatre, and never darkened their door. But many was the time Anna had heard Mother Nan complain of him.
She studied him now with some interest. He looked like a round, red-faced elf more than a troublemaker.
‘Surely he is not your friend, Lord Edward?’ she said.
‘It’s always wise to know what one’s neighbours are about, don’t you agree, Mistress Barrett?’ he answered. ‘Especially when they have only recently come into the estate.’
Rob and Lady Elizabeth rejoined them at that moment, both of them watching the arrival of Sir Thomas and his escorts. Rob also rested his hand on the hilt of his dagger, and though he smiled and moved with a lazy grace Anna almost feared a brawl would break out there, like a scene from one of his plays.
‘My dearest Elizabeth, I should greet our new guests,’ Edward said. ‘I would not wish to appear inhospitable.’
Elizabeth grabbed his arm. ‘Not without me, Edward. I have only recently finished the refurbishment of this hall. I don’t wish to see it wrecked.’
‘Whatever do you mean? I am the soul of civilisation, my love. Nothing will happen tonight.’
Elizabeth frowned up at him. ‘What are you about, then?’
Edward kissed her cheek and gently loosened her hand from his arm. ‘I will take Rob with me to greet Sir Thomas, Elizabeth. I don’t want you subjected to his filthy nonsense. Stay here with Mistress Barrett.’
‘Edward…’ she began warningly.
‘I promise you, love. Nothing will happen.’ Edward nodded at Robert and the two of them set off across the room, threading their way through the increasingly noisy revellers. They looked as if they were entering the field of battle.
‘Aye, nothing tonight,’ Elizabeth muttered. She snatched up a goblet and drained the wine.
Anna felt chilly even in the overheated
room, and she rubbed at her arms as she tried to erase that heavy disquiet. ‘What is between Lord Edward and Thomas Sheldon?’
‘An old enmity,’ Elizabeth answered. She drew Anna to a quieter corner and whispered in her ear. ‘Edward’s younger brother died a few years ago—cheated of his fortune by Sheldon and then sent off to die on a ship to America. Sheldon has cheated many men of every status, but his villainy has not yet been proved to the Queen. He even tried to marry my poor niece last year—she was terrified of such a fate.’
‘How awful,’ Anna said. No woman should find herself married to a brute, as she herself had.
‘She is happily married to a man of her own choosing now, and in a strange way it was that which brought me to Edward. But Sheldon must be stopped, one way or another.’
‘You two must have great secret confidences, here in this dark corner,’ Rob said as he came up behind them.
He slipped his arm around Anna’s waist and tugged her close to him. Even though he smiled when she looked up at him, she could glimpse that familiar darkness lurking in his eyes.
Trouble and strife didn’t live only in the narrow Southwark streets. It followed them even into grand houses. Anna had the sudden urge to grab Rob’s hand and run from this place—from everything their lives held of secrets and plots and dark longings. To just—run.
But she knew running could not lead to escape.
‘Where is Edward?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘I hope you did not leave him alone with Sheldon!’
‘I’m not such a poor friend as that, Elizabeth,’ Rob answered. ‘We merely greeted Sheldon and found him and his men amenable dance partners among the ladies. Then your footman came to Edward with a question about the wine supplies. It seems your guests are so very greedy you are in danger of running out.’
‘That is ridiculous,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Edward’s wine is enough to last a century. Where is he now?’
‘In the kitchens, I believe. And Sheldon is just there, dancing with Lady Arabella—if you dare call it dancing.’ Robert waved towards Sir Thomas, weaving an unsteady path through the patterns of another galliard. Everyone else was having such a merry time they didn’t seem to notice when he went the wrong way and ran into them.
The Taming of the Rogue Page 15
