“All right! I promise. Where are we going?”
“To the library, where we might have some privacy.”
In a few minutes, I was lounging on the settle while Stephen coaxed a pitiful flame to life in the fireplace.
“How much of our conversation did you hear?”
“Enough to make me afraid.”
“Thomas seems to be fearless.” Seating himself next to me, Stephen shook his head, baffled. “I believe he is overly confident about his present safety. After the sheriff’s raid, I do not see how he can be so unconcerned.”
“Will Shakespeare seems worried about him. I wonder what he would do, how far he would go, to protect Thomas.”
Stephen looked at me, his expression inscrutable. But I had the feeling he was making a valiant effort to keep quiet about my … duty. Shrugging, he said, “There is little you or I can do about it tonight.”
“You mentioned something about Walsingham’s spies. I don’t know who Walsingham is, but the whole spy thing intrigues me.”
“Olivia, this is not something meant to amuse you.”
I bristled. “Is that what you think?”
In an instant, his expression changed from annoyed to apologetic. He reached over and took my hands. “Forgive me, of course I do not. I grow tired of the whole business, that is all I meant. Pray continue.”
“Well … haven’t you wondered how the sheriff knew there was a priest here?”
“People wish to say their confessions and hear Mass. Word passes from one family to the next. ’Tis only natural.”
“But the sheriff knew there was a Jesuit priest on the premises. Doesn’t that make a difference? Aren’t the Jesuits the ones they’re really after?”
“Aye, you are right. ’Tis the Jesuits they fear.” Stephen rose and paced around the room.
“So … I have a theory. Do you want to hear it?” I hurried over to him.
“Do I have a choice?” I narrowed my eyes and he laughed.
“I think there’s a spy right here at Hoghton Tower!”
“You have an exceptional imagination, mistress,” he said, eyeing me skeptically.
“The first day I was here, when we were outside dancing, someone was watching us. I saw the curtain pulled aside, and it fell back into place when we turned to come in.”
“That could simply have been a curious servant.”
“And something else. During my meeting with Will, I could have sworn I heard footsteps in the hallway right before we left the room. Nobody was there, but there were lots of hiding places.”
“Why did you wait so long to tell me these things!”
“I didn’t think they were that important, but now, too much has happened for us to ignore anything.” Stephen looked annoyed, but more willing to listen.
“Getting back to my theory.… How did the sheriff choose this home to raid? He must have an informant!”
“And who is on your list of most likely suspects?”
I leaned in conspiratorially. “Jennet, of course. The man she met with in the forest could be part of a network of spies,” I whispered.
“How exactly would that work?”
From the smug look on his face, I knew he was needling me, but I answered anyway. “Whoever she reports to passes on her information to someone else, who passes it to yet another person, and so on. Who knows where it ends up?”
“Who else is among your suspects?”
“One of the servants, maybe. I don’t know. I just think it’s too much of a coincidence that the sheriff knows there’s a Jesuit living here.”
“I’ve been acquainted with the servants since my childhood, and ’tis highly unlikely there would be a spy among them. They are fiercely loyal to my uncle. Jennet, I’ll admit, bears watching. I hardly think she has anything to do with Walsingham, but she could be spreading rumors. Something likely to attract the attention of anyone who means to harm Catholics.”
I reached under my bodice and extracted the note from my waistband. “There’s this, too.” I handed it to him. “I don’t know what it has to do with anything. With Jennet, or Shakespeare and Thomas, or spies.”
After raising his eyebrows at me, he looked it over. “Is the writing the same as the other one?”
“I think so. Since we burned the first one, I couldn’t compare them, but I’m almost positive.”
“I do not understand the purpose. Is it meant to scare you—us? Who could know we are not brother and sister? And what do they intend to do with the information?”
“I keep coming back to Jennet. She was away for Easter weekend and could easily have found someone to help her with the note. Plus, if she was the one watching us when we were dancing, maybe she thought a brother and sister wouldn’t be quite so, well, enthusiastic.”
Stephen smiled. “Indeed. And none of the others who can read and write seem likely.” He walked over and stirred the fire to life with the poker, and then threw the note into the flames.
“I agree. By now, Jennet would be able to write a short note. Even though she’s been friendlier to me lately, I think she’s still jealous when it comes to Will. At least a little.”
“Why? Thus far you’ve hardly given her a reason to be, have you?”
Immediately, tears filled my eyes. I put some distance between us so Stephen wouldn’t notice and told myself to get a grip. “I can’t think of a motive for Will.”
“Nor can I.”
“But Thomas might have a reason to threaten me. Maybe he’s figured out I’m trying to get Will away from him. And the church.”
“How would he know that? Even Shakespeare does not know, because nothing has happened!”
I was shaky, on the verge of tears. But I couldn’t let that comment pass without a response. Voice trembling, I said, “More has happened between Will and me than you know about.”
Stephen closed the distance between us in a second, but stopped short of any physical contact.
“You don’t care what happens to me, as long as I do exactly what you want!”
He seized my arm. “Do you think I am enjoying this? Do you think I like using you this way?” When I didn’t answer, he said, in a softer voice, “I do not. There is nothing to be done but get it over with.” He lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. “I hate to see you thus, Olivia.”
Our faces were only inches apart now. Somehow, my hands ended up on his chest, and he moved his to frame my face. Despite our argument, I wanted him to kiss me. I really wanted him to kiss me. He leaned in, and when our lips met, I opened my mouth a little to the softness of his.
He broke the kiss long enough to say, “You steal my breath, Olivia.” Then he kissed me again, as if he never wanted to stop. Something stirred in my heart, and I moved my hands up and slid them around his neck.
And then he drew back, just like he had the other day.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, hurt, not understanding.
“I forget myself,” he said, starting to turn for the door. “This is not … Kissing you is not a good idea. It will only hurt us both.”
“No! It’s okay. Kiss me as much as you want.” But he was already gone. Thank God. How mortifying was that, practically begging him to make out with me?
My fingers strayed to my mouth, where I could still feel the touch of Stephen’s lips. How could the person who was practically throwing me at Shakespeare kiss me like that? And why was he so set on pushing me away?
CURLED INTO A LUMP OF MISERY, I lay awake most of the night wondering about the mixed signals I was getting from Stephen. Did he care for me or not? Our feelings for each other aside, he was right about one thing. The seduction plan was going nowhere. Nor was I having any better luck with the antiseduction. Based on what I’d overheard last night, it was obvious that Will was devoted to Thomas. He’d probably be perfectly happy to remain under Thomas’s influence, do his bidding, and follow him anywhere. For the time being, it seemed like seduction was the only way forward, if I could only fin
d an opportunity for it.
Dawn was breaking as I hurried to the schoolroom, hoping to get there before anyone else. I wanted to search for the mysterious letter from Thomas. Given the situation, I thought it might be important to know exactly what it said.
I had no idea when the school day began, or what time Will and his young scholars arrived. The birds were twittering and swathes of peach and pink radiated through the sky as I made my way along the passages. Surely no one, even in this century, got to school so early.
The classroom door stood open, and I stepped over the threshold and closed it. Where to start? Will’s personal worktable would be the most obvious place. The room was dim, and I chided myself for not bringing a candle. Since I didn’t want to use up valuable time looking for one, I’d have to make the best of it.
I sorted through stacks of papers, all student work. Spotting a small wooden coffer resting on a shelf behind the table, I lifted it down and carried it over to one of the windows. There were several letters inside! I worked quickly, unfolding and glancing at each one. Some of them were from Shakespeare’s father. Two were from Alexander arranging Will’s employment as schoolmaster, and a few others were from various people I’d never heard of.
I unfolded the last one and had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. It was to Anne Hathaway, incomplete and never sent, obviously.
My dear Mistress Hathaway,
You have bewitched me with your beauty. When I should be tending to my duties, I think of you instead. The fullness of your breasts, the lovely slope of your neck, your delicate ankles peeking out from beneath your skirts. I long to see you again. Pray wait for me
He’d crossed out the part about waiting for him. Not knowing what his future held, was he afraid of giving her too much encouragement? If I could take one thing home with me … this would probably be it. What a stroke of luck to have even seen it!
I replaced the letters and returned the coffer to the shelf. Glancing around the room, I could find nowhere else to look. There was a narrow alcove with wooden pegs, where the students put their coats, but it contained no shelves or drawers. Tables and stools for the students, now standing lonely and deserted, were the only other pieces of furniture. Will must have taken the letter to his chamber. I’d have to search it one day while he was teaching.
It was time for me to get out. I pressed my ear to the door for a second, to make sure nobody was in the passage. Then I slipped out and back to my room, where I had time to undress and climb into bed before Bess could discover I’d been up and about at such a ridiculous hour.
After lunch, I drew Stephen aside. “I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” he asked, giving me a brief look before turning his gaze to the side.
“Privately,” I whispered. “It’s about Will. I searched—” Alexander was approaching us, so I closed my mouth around the rest of the words.
“Lad, when you and Olivia are done, I need a moment.”
“We are done now, Uncle,” Stephen said, walking away. “I shall see you this evening, Olivia.”
I nodded. If only I had that branch, I’d smack him with it again.
Later, I was lying on my bed fantasizing about kissing Stephen when he appeared in the passageway. I bolted up, embarrassed to be caught daydreaming. He strode over to me.
“Olivia, guests are expected tonight. This is what my uncle wanted to tell me.”
“So?”
“There is to be music and dancing after the evening meal. This could be a prime opportunity for you, for the seduction.” So aloof. He couldn’t look me in the eye when he said it.
“Great. I’m looking forward to it, and to going home.” I kept my eyes on the coverlet, pulling at some loose threads.
“About last night,” he said. “I should not have kissed you the first time, and certainly not a second. It was wrong of me, and I entreat you to forgive me.”
My head jerked up. There was so much more than a kiss between us. He was keeping me at a distance because of what he was asking me to do with Will. That was the only thing that made sense. How could he let his feelings for me show when he wanted me to seduce another man?
“No apologies necessary,” I said coldly.
“But—”
“Please, let’s not discuss it.”
“As you wish.” There was a distinct lack of emotion in his voice. “You started to tell me something.”
“Remember the letter Will received from Thomas? I said I’d try to find it.”
He nodded, and even plunked himself down on the edge of the bed.
“After what they were discussing last night, I thought I should look for it. I was up at dawn and made a thorough search of the classroom, even found some letters. But none were from Thomas. Do you want me to search his room?”
“I could do it, but you would be more likely to recognize it.”
“I’ll find a time when I’m certain he’s busy somewhere else. You could be my lookout, though.”
He nodded and headed back to the door, turning briefly. “Wear the crimson gown tonight, and make sure Bess arranges your hair.”
“Leave me alone,” I said, flopping backward on the bed.
After Stephen left, I lay there a long time going over the pros and cons of making love with Shakespeare. In the plus column was the fact that nothing else seemed to be keeping him from caving in to Thomas. While Will hadn’t made any major moves on me, other than a few kisses, I knew he liked me, especially since I was interested in his writing and acting. I was pretty sure he’d be a willing partner. In fact, there’d been a few times when I’d thought he was seducing me. Stephen, acting all cold and formal, had hurt me. After everything we’d shared, I was hoping he’d say there was no way he would let me do it. Maybe my going through with it would drive him wild with jealousy. Right.
On the negative side, I simply didn’t know if I had the audacity to carry it off. I realized this was the complete opposite of how I’d felt before, and certainly the opposite of the impression I’d been going out of my way to give Stephen. At first I’d been awed by Will. Just being in his company had been a thrill. It still was. Losing my virginity to him, someone I so admired and revered, would be so cool. And there was that ridiculous idea of one-upping my mother—as if she’d ever know.
But all this was before Stephen. Before I’d fallen for him. I desperately wished he would be the one I’d be making love with tonight.
And then I was struck by an idea so perfect, so obvious, and so right, I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. I needed help planning the seduction. Not only planning, but practicing. Who better than my host, my guide, and, coincidentally, the man I truly desired … Master Stephen Langford? Brilliant, Olivia!
I flew off my bed and went in search of my prey.
He wasn’t in his chamber, the library, the billiard room, or any of the drawing rooms. I was about to give up when I heard his voice drifting in from outdoors. Peering out the windows, I glimpsed him striding through the courtyard, dressed in riding clothes. My knees turned to jelly.
Back in my room, I swept the hairbrush through my hair a few times; then I straightened my skirts, smoothed my bodice, and fervently wished I had some blush and mascara. Meanwhile, I heard Stephen moving around next door, and after a decent interval, I moseyed on over.
“Knock, knock,” I said, peeking in. He’d stripped down to his shirt and was drying his hands and face with a towel. I could tell by his look he was surprised to see me.
“Olivia. Do you need something?”
I sauntered over to him and gave him my version of a smoldering look. “Yes. I need your advice regarding tonight. The … events … of tonight.”
He must have guessed I was up to something, because he narrowed his eyes at me and tilted his head to one side. “Indeed?”
“Indeed. Can you spare me some time?”
He sighed. “Very well.” He stood there staring at me, waiting.
“No
t here,” I hissed. “We could be overheard, or someone could walk in.”
“The library, then?”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head slowly. “We need more privacy than that.”
Now he really looked suspicious. Turning his back on me, he went to his wardrobe and found a doublet. When he’d finished fastening it, he said, “Come. You’d best get your cloak. And bring Cop, if he’s there.”
Once outside, we set off for the forest, picking our way around trees, fallen logs, and ferns. I was glad to have Copernicus loping along beside us, since there was nothing between Stephen and me but silence. Before long, a few rough buildings came into view in a clearing.
“Where are we?”
“These are sheepfolds and shepherds’ huts.” After rapping on the door of one of the thatch-roofed huts, Stephen pushed it open. He commanded Copernicus to stay, and we entered. “Cop will alert us if anyone approaches.”
“Aren’t we trespassing?” The hut was snug and clean, the floor covered with fresh-smelling rushes. The only furnishings were a small wooden table and a bench. There was no fireplace, but I’d noticed some fire rings outside. We sat next to each other on the bench.
“The shepherds are hospitable folk. If they should find us, they would probably think it an honor. Now, would you care to tell me what we’re doing here?”
I sucked in a deep breath. “I think we should practice the seduction.”
“What you should say?”
“No. What I should do.”
“Ah. Do. Well, then.” He barked a laugh. “What game are you playing, Olivia?”
“This is not a game, Stephen. I told you I’ve never seduced anybody.”
He dropped his forehead into his palms and nodded. “I remember.”
“I think you should teach me.”
He kept his head in his hands. Was he going to refuse?
Finally he looked up. “What is your plan as to how things will proceed tonight?”
I gave an exasperated shrug. “Talk. Dance. Flirt. Suggest we go somewhere we can be alone. Then—”
Kissing Shakespeare Page 18
