Shakespeare's Lady

by Alexa Schnee

  That night there was a great celebration. The new bride and groom were full of spirits, and the rest of the company followed suit.

  The queen was not among them. She had already begun her travel back to her palace. She had refused to go through the receiving line and to even acknowledge the bride and the groom. The game Frances was playing had only just begun.

  LATER THAT SUMMER HENRY called me to his chambers to meet someone new to court. He told me to dress finely, and so I wore my scarlet gown because it complemented my skin tone. Margaret helped me brush my hair smooth and bind it into a bun. I wore a necklace that Henry had given me and the ruby ring from when he’d first asked me to be his mistress.

  I trudged to Henry’s chamber with a melancholy feeling. I couldn’t help but think of Frances. Daily, I had been checking the correspondence that came to the chambers for a letter from her.

  I entered Henry’s chamber with a placid smile. I found him with his back turned toward the door; he was focused on something on his desk. Another man stood beside him, pointing at the object. I leaned forward. It was a piece of paper.

  “Excellent, excellent,” Henry proclaimed. “This is first-class.”

  I made a small noise in my throat and both men turned around.

  The first things I noticed were his eyes. They had such a soul, a beauty that could not be described with words. I saw a thousand dreams, a thousand ideas, and a thousand new experiences. They were unlike anything I had ever seen. How could I not have noticed, when we’d met before?

  “Ah, there you are,” Henry said.

  I could barely hear him. I was still hypnotized by those eyes. All I wanted was to stare into in them.

  It was only when I felt Henry’s arm around my waist that I remembered who I was. It was as if I had awakened from sleep and only wished to fall back into my dream.

  “This is the lady Bassano, the jewel of the musician family,” Henry said. “She advises me in all my duties as Lord Chamberlain. This, my dear, is William Shakespeare, the playwright.”

  He bowed his head, a small smile still on his face. I noticed the hoop earring he wore like a gypsy and his simple style of dressing. He wore a plain doublet and worn leather boots.

  “We’ve met. Have you been well since I saw you last?” His voice sounded like Alfonso’s harp. He looked out of place in Henry’s exquisite quarters, with its fine curtains and dark oak desk. Still, he did not seem to be uncomfortable.

  I didn’t know if I could speak. This man had captured me in a way that I had never felt before. I felt nervous, excited, scared, beautiful, and unworthy all at once. It was almost too much.

  “Very well, thank you,” I forced myself to say. “How long do you plan to stay at court, Master Shakespeare?”

  He laughed a musical tone. “Please, William is the name I prefer, Lady Bassano.”

  “It is not every day one meets a man so humble.”

  “That is where you are wrong,” he said. “For humility is said to be the virtue I most lack.”

  “William has such a way with words, darling.” Henry unwrapped himself from my side. “He has written several plays and acted in them as well. He is part of the theatre troupe I am now financing. William, that was by my lady’s urging, mind you.”

  William laughed once again. “Yes, but I am a poor actor in comparison to many. I only do it because I imagine my characters after myself. They take on my mannerisms. After I’ve written about them so much, I can’t imagine anyone but myself playing that part.”

  Henry appeared to be delighted, a smile decorating his face.

  “I hear you are friends with the harpist, Alfonso Lanier. Lady Bassano is his cousin.”

  “Yes, I have known Alfonso for some time now.” His eyes then returned to me. “It’s odd, but I see no resemblance between them whatsoever.”

  I gave him a half smile. “You must be saying this in jest. I have always heard that we look exactly alike.”

  “Oh no.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You see, my lady, you may find this strange, but I do not much rely on appearances. I often find them false. You are as unlike your cousin as the dark side of the moon is the fair side.”

  “I find it hardly strange at all,” I replied. “I believe we would all benefit from your ideas.”

  He displayed that small smile, and I felt a strange stirring in my stomach. It was like the feeling I had at the Queen of Scots’ beheading. It was curiosity but also nervousness. I did not know what to think.

  “The queen has invited me to stay at court for the rest of the fall season and perform one of my plays. She is a great patron of the arts and, I hear, a poet herself.”

  “She is thrilled to have you here.” Henry strode over to his desk and picked up the piece of paper. “This is a great work. The queen will be pleased.”

  I did not ask to have it, even though my hands burned to take it out of his and read it for myself. I hated that a lady had to show manners at all times. I made sure that I kept my hands folded in front of me.

  “Thank you for coming, my dear.” Henry smiled. “I know how these matters weary you. You may go back to your chambers now.”

  My shoulders tensed. It sounded as if I were a child. I gave a curt nod and turned to leave. My heart still fluttered faster than I thought possible. How on earth could I feel this way? I had barely met the man, and I felt as though I were an entirely different person. Hesitating, I balled my hand into a fist and tightened it. I had to force my feet to move; they remained firmly in place. How could I leave now, just when I had discovered who this Shakespeare really was? Eventually, I was able to make my way to the door.

  I should have been ashamed for the thoughts that were running through my mind. I knew nothing of him, and yet it felt as if I knew everything. When his eyes met mine I encountered an emotion that I could not control. I felt so feeble. Instead of going straight to the chambers, I made my way to the palace chapel. Kneeling in front of the cross, I prayed and confessed. The desires I felt were unhealthy.

  After I finished my confession I did not get up. My knees were so sore that I could barely stand it, but I stayed there. I couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes. The sky darkened. I knew I had to go back to the chambers when no more light shone through the stained-glass windows. Margaret would be wondering where I was, and I needed to return in case Henry called for me. A pain shot through my legs when I stood up. I yelped and rested on my knees. Eventually I was able to limp back to the large wooden door of the chambers.

  I knocked on it, expecting to see Margaret’s worried face on the other side. No one answered, however, and I had to pull it open myself. All the ladies had gone to their beds. No one waited up for me. I took a glance at the great clock that stood in the corner before I also went to my bed. It was well past midnight that his eyes lingered.

  I SAT UP FROM my pallet the next morning and walked stiffly over to where Margaret sat with a handful of fabric in one hand and a needle in the other. The room was neatly arranged—the handmaidens had probably just come and gone. The ladies were not on their pallets. I assumed they had already gone to break their fast. Birds chirped outside, greeting the morning with joy.

  Margaret looked exhausted, and she held a hand to her head to steady herself. She did not know that I was watching her.

  “Good morning,” I said. I fell into a nearby chair, afraid my knees would give out. The pain was strong.

  “Good morning.” She smiled. She glanced at me with a tired expression, her eyes glazed over. “You were out late.”

  I sighed. It was no use hiding where I had been.

  “I was in the chapel.”

  “Oh?” She was surprised. “That must have been an immense sin.” “I was also praying,” I added.

  She bit off the thread from the mended bodice. It was one that she had worn more than once or twice.

  “For a child?” she asked. She stood up and placed the garment on a nearby chair. Her hair was down; it was one of the few t
imes I had seen it loose.

  “Yes,” I said. It was partially true.

  “You’re young.” She strained to smile, as though she were so fatigued that it was all she could do. “You will soon get what you have asked for.”

  She was unusually pale, and her stomach looked as though it were going to burst from the corset that enclosed it.

  Now I understood—Margaret was with child. No wonder she always looked so tired. She had to carry this baby and look after the queen and watch over the new ladies.

  “Margaret?” I asked and pointed to her belly. “Have you been given what you asked for?”

  She sighed. She placed a hand on her round stomach and nodded.

  “I must ask the queen for her permission to leave court,” she said.

  “Have you?” I asked.

  She sat down with difficulty, and though an intense pain shot up my legs when I stood, I went to her side and steadied her. Margaret was with child. What wonderful and terrible news all at once. If the queen knew, there was no telling what she would say or think. Elizabeth had control over all the ladies’ coming and goings.

  “No,” she replied. Margaret always seemed so much older than me, but she was only thirty. She seemed more wan now that she was carrying another life around with her.

  “You need to. Lady Bess and I will take care of the fresh group of ladies. You need to go home and rest. When will it come?” I carried a footstool over to her and made her place her legs upon it.

  “In about five months,” she said. “You can see why I didn’t tell you. Frances left, and then the queen did not want me to go. I couldn’t tell her that I was with child, Emilia, I just couldn’t.”

  Fat tears began to roll down her face, and I wrapped my arms around her neck. I worried over her. Here I was, infatuated with a man I’d just met and confessing for hours while Margaret needed me.

  “We need this baby,” she said. “George and I, well, we are no longer as young as we used to be and the child…” She swallowed. “The child would help. I have miscarried once before this, and the other boy died in infancy.”

  “Oh, Margaret,” I cried, tears coming to my own eyes. “You should have told me. I would have helped. It was dangerous to be carrying it without anyone knowing.”

  Margaret smiled and a tear rolled down one side of her mouth. She looked so ragged. How could I not have seen it? Curses on Frances. She always attracted all the attention. It was easy to overlook Margaret, even when she was obviously with child, because of Frances.

  “We must tell the queen,” I said.

  “We cannot.” She took my hand with force. “She will be furious that I did not come to her when I first knew.”

  “You have no need to be ashamed,” I said. “You were busy with all the other things that the queen insisted you do.”

  Margaret intertwined her fingers.

  “Emilia?” she asked. “Would you mind?”

  I knew what I needed to do. I would have to go to the queen myself and insist that Margaret be sent home. “I will go to her. You are my friend and deserve to go home and raise the child. At the most you will be gone a couple of months, and then you can return. Lady Bess is fully equipped to take over for you while you are gone.”

  I did not know if the last statement was true, but I worried that if Margaret stayed any longer she would be too far along to move. I fetched a cup of water and made sure that she drank it all. If she minded my mothering, she didn’t mention it.

  “You are so good to me, Emilia,” she sighed. “When will you go to the queen?”

  “I will get dressed and talk to Henry. He might be able to set an audience with her sooner,” I responded. Perhaps William Shakespeare would be in the chamber again. I tried not to look as though I wanted to go.

  “Very well. Let’s hope the queen is in a forgiving humor.”

  I HAD TO WAIT only a day to see the queen. I was fortunate that Henry was so close to Elizabeth. I wore my Easter dress with the embroidered flowers dotted along the skirt and bodice. It was late summer and autumn was just around the corner, but this was my finest dress.

  I waited outside the throne room for an hour, my hands shaking. I took large breaths, but they didn’t seem to help. I needed to do this for Margaret, but I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else. I didn’t know if this would jeopardize the queen’s opinion of me, but I did know that this was necessary for Margaret’s health. I fingered the silver chain around my neck and found myself scratching my forearm even though it did not itch.

  I was let in just as the clock struck noon. I had been in the throne room, where she met with her subjects, only once before. I was suddenly transported back to the day I had arrived at court, my first audience with the queen. I was so naïve about the world and the people in it. Had I changed? Or was I still naive, thinking that the queen cared what I had to say? I walked the length of the room with my hands folded tightly in front of me. I kept my eyes down as I had those four years ago.

  The room was long, with solid wooden floors and a red carpet leading up to the queen’s throne. The floors had been freshly stained, and I could smell the substance they had used to make them shine so impressively. Stained-glass windows cast colors onto the boards, and every now and then my silk slippers would pass into the light it cast.

  “The lady Bassano.”

  Once again I curtsied and once again I felt her eyes upon me, judging every breath I took, every time I blinked. It was all I could do to keep from turning around and running back out of the room.

  “Rise.” The queen’s powerful voice echoed throughout the room.

  I rose from my curtsy, my sore knees shaking. I wondered how many men and women had felt as I did in front of that throne.

  “I hear that you wish to speak to me,” she said.

  I finally mustered up the courage to look to her face. She looked younger than she did from a distance. There was not a wrinkle on her face, which wore a harsh countenance. Her eyes were the only thing that gave her away. They were soft. They had not been that way at Frances’s wedding, nor when I had seen her at holidays. She looked upon me with favor still. I did not know if that would change after I made my request, but I prayed it wouldn’t.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” I said. I was afraid that my voice would come out frail, but it was stronger than I thought it would be. I couldn’t help but feel a little proud of myself. “The lady Russell, Countess of Cumberland, is with child.”

  The queen’s face didn’t falter. Her eyes remained the same. She acted as though she hadn’t heard. She fingered a ring on her right hand.

  “And?” she asked.

  I was taken aback. I thought that she would at least seem upset or surprised, but she was neither. She was as calm as a summer’s day. It took me a moment to think of what to say next. I’d had it perfectly rehearsed in my head before I came, yet now the words seemed to fly from my mind.

  “As her companion, I think it would be best that she return to Cumberland with her husband for a few months,” I said softly.

  “So be it. Tell her I will call her back when I need her,” the queen replied.

  I curtsied and was about to turn and leave when the queen addressed me.

  “You remind me so much of my mother. I was only three when she died, but I still remember her. A child does not forget those who are kind to her.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I took it as a high compliment, even though I was fearful of associating my reputation with Anne Boleyn’s.

  “Take care, Lady Bassano. We must all remember where our allegiances lie and how best to serve them.”

  She seemed to be thinking aloud more than talking to me, but I took her advice to heart. It was easy for her to say. She could choose her lovers and friends and had unlimited funds…but there was wisdom there.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Retreating quietly, I left the queen alone with her thoughts and memories. She continued to finger her ring and stare out the large s
tained-glass window. She did not even seem to notice that I was leaving. Her mind was far, far away.

  I rushed back to the chambers. I could only imagine Margaret’s face when I told her of the queen’s lenience. Her greatest wishes, to have children and to be with her husband, were about to come true. Now we all had to learn to live without her.

  MARGARET LEFT THE NEXT day in a litter. I went down to the courtyard to see her off. She looked relieved. I told her to write as soon as the baby was born and to keep in good health. The queen would need her as soon as she got back to court, and she needed her time to rest.

  It was strange to wake up each day and not find her there. She had been such an influential part of my recent life. I no longer had anyone to talk to, and I felt alone. I waited up nights for Henry by myself, wondering how Margaret was doing at her home. Was she sewing baby clothes and singing lullabies? Was she enjoying motherhood? I imagined her sitting in a rocking chair, waiting for the baby to come.

  Lady Bess and I began to spend more time together while Margaret was gone. I kept my thoughts off Margaret and Frances during the day by helping Lady Bess with the younger ladies. There was a peace between us now that Frances had left.

  Autumn was breathed alive, and we all waited for the day when William Shakespeare was to present his play to the members of court. I often saw the troupe walking to and from the Great Hall where they rehearsed, though I never saw him. Every now and then I would go to a window that looked over the path that led to their quarters, pull aside the scratchy drape that hung in front of the window, and watch them pass. I made sure to pull it across again if someone looked my way.

  One day as I was heading back to my chambers, I passed the Great Hall. I heard his voice echoing throughout the room, his instructions to the players loud and concise.

  I peered through the door for only a moment, just to see if he was how I remembered. My hand went to the silver cross I wore around my neck. He stood in front of the naked stage.