A Love Most Dangerous (38 page)

'You had a bad nightmare,' said Mrs Pepper with a
worried look.

'It was nothing,' I said.

She placed her hand upon my shoulder and looked into
my eyes.

'It was something,' she said. 'Don't dismiss it so
lightly. Learn from it.' She gave a fleeting smile. 'It's all to the good, it's
necessary for your healing. But it will stay with you all your days.'

I nodded although I did it out of courtesy for her
concern. I did not understand what she meant.

Amy joined us for the noon-day meal that day.
Apparently it was Sunday and she had an hour or two as holiday on that day.

'You look much recovered, Alice,' she said. 'You have
looked so grey and lost. Now you look more like your old self.'

'Do I?' I asked. I had no idea for there was no
looking-glass at the Pepper's and if there had been I would not want to look at
myself in it.

'Much recovered,' said Tom Pepper. 'You had bad dreams
last night. Edith sat in your room half the night, watching over you. It was
like the breaking of a fever.'

'You watched over me?' I said in astonishment.

Mrs Pepper inclined her head and gave the smallest of
smiles.

I got up and knelt at her feet, taking her hand in
mine.

'That was such a kindly thing to do,' I said.

I bent my head in her lap and felt her hand rest
lightly upon it. The tears began to fall then. They were not painful tears,
though, not tears to rack and shake my body. They were tears like rain, tears
of summer rain that cleared away the torrid heat of summer.

The next morning I found Tom Pepper sitting in the
living room on his own. He was mending a net and looked like a fisherman
sitting by the banks of a river.

'We've been talking, Edith and me,' he said. 'We think
that now you're on the mend this place is maybe not the best for you. Too much
clamour from the beasts, too much smell and jostle.'

I had not thought this although I had not left the
house and walked close to the Menagerie. As soon as he said it I realised he
was right. The sight of those caged beasts would prove a nightmare for me. They
would remind me of his little daughter. And they would remind me of Crane's
brothel.

'So what we thought was,' Tom continued, 'and this was
Edith's idea, not mine, what we thought of was that we'd take you up to her
brother Robert's place. It's out in the county, far from London. Lots of fresh air and peace for you. It will do you good. We can't go for a month, mind,
because we've got some foreign dignitaries visiting. But we'll be able to go
late August.'

'That's very kind of you, Mr Pepper. But I couldn't
intrude on you or your brother-in-law any further.'

'Can't you though?' Tom said, putting down his net. 'I
say you can, Alice Petherton.' He looked in my face for a moment and then
turned away and stared at the window. 'I'll never forget how you tried to save
my Molly, never forgot that as she lay there dying she was cradled in the arms
of a caring woman, comforted and made more peaceful. I'll never forget what you
did for her, Alice. And I'll never forget your courage.'

He picked up the net and began to work at it once
more, whistling with hardly any sound. His eyes began to film with tears.
'Least we can do,' he muttered. 'Least we can do.'

A month later I found myself in a little cart on the
way to a town called Stratford-upon-Avon. Tom Pepper had decided to take a few
days from his duties and Amy had also determined to join us on the outing.

'A week outside of London,' she cried. 'What a
wonderful thought.'

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

To Stratford-upon-Avon

20th August 1538

As soon as we left London I felt my spirits begin to
lift. It was like climbing out of a noisome drain. The air was fresh and moved
with gentle breezes. The sky was a bright August blue, dotted with clouds like
lambs on distant meadows. The sun blazed in the sky and there was not a threat
of rain. The forests were bright and green, though here and there the leaves
were beginning to turn to gold. Huge flocks of birds beat across the sky as if
playing some delightful game and the sound of bird-song was everywhere.

It took us only three days to journey from London to Stratford-upon-Avon. The weather was as fine as only late August can provide.  In the
fields on either side men, women and children worked from sunrise to past
sun-set to gather in the harvest. It looked hot, exhausting work. In some
fields the harvesters worked like a well-drilled army, heads down, cutting,
stacking, moving on, cutting. Other fields looked much more hap-hazard with
little groups wandering about seemingly as the mood took them. Some gangs
worked in silence. Others filled the air with song. Quite a few looked to be
teetering on the verge of drunkenness. 

The summer heat had dried up the roads and made the
going good for travellers on foot, horseback or on carts. A few horsemen
hurried along on pressing business. Most seemed content to amble and enjoy the
last of the summer weather.

Our cart was an excellent one, more a carriage to be
honest. As soon as I saw it I realised the advantages of being the King's
Beastmaster. Tom Pepper had access to all manner of means denied to ordinary
people. He had selected one of the better made of the Tower vehicles, chosen
the finest horses to pull it and crammed it with good food and wine for the
journey.

At one point he told a long story concerning a huge
great bird from Africa which could not fly but could run faster than a horse.
One of the keepers had taken bets to see if he could ride it. He managed to keep
his seat for several minutes before tumbling on the ground. He received a
vicious peck from the giant bird and then the bird proceeded to chase the
keeper round the compound, pecking at the man's bottom with its vicious beak.

Tom told the story  so wittily that I found myself
laughing out loud. When I had finished and wiped my eyes I glanced away, deep
in thought. I could not remember the last time I had laughed. I thought at
first it might have been with Art Scrump but I could not be sure. My mind flew
back across the weeks and months, searching for the last time I had laughed
aloud. And then I had it.

Susan Dunster had given an impression of Thomas
Seymour chasing after me. She wrapped one hand in a thick brown cloth and
pretended it was his beard, but a beard with an independent, lusty life of its
own which Seymour was powerless to control. It waved itself in the air, stroked
and nipped at Mary, Lucy and me and even engaged in witty banter with its
owner. That day I laughed until my ribs ached. Tom's story did not have that
effect. But at least I was laughing once again.

We stopped the first night at the home of one of Tom's
old friends in Aylesbury and the second at an inn in Bicester. Tom loved being
in the inn, for he was full of good heart and comradeship. Edith was less
happy, suspicious of strangers and the dangers they might present. Amy spent
most of the time scrutinising the workings of the inn and the behaviour of the
barmaids.

'These county girls don't have a clue,' she concluded.
'But it's a goodly inn and well run.' She glanced at one of the barmaids who
was standing with mugs of ale in her hand, talking with a customer on her way
to our table. 'The barmaids have it so easy here,' she continued. 'They don't
know they're born.' She gestured the barmaid to hurry along with our ale and
the girl sighed for a moment and finished her conversation before sidling over
to us. She plonked down the mugs with more energy than she had shown hitherto,
spilling a great deal of the ale on the table.

Tom picked up his mug and took a good long mouthful.
'The ale's good though, Amy,' he said. 'Can't complain about that.' And then he
rubbed his hands together as another barmaid approached with a huge pie,
steaming hot, and a dish of cabbage and broad beans.

We set off early next morning just as the sun was
peeking above the hills to the east. We made even better progress than on the
previous days for the roads were emptier and we were less delayed by slowly
trundling wagons. We stopped briefly for a bite to eat and arrived at Robert
Cooper's farm just as the sun was setting.

And what a welcome we had. Robert and his wife Hannah
rushed out to meet us with their seven children. They seemed to be everywhere,
chattering, laughing, hugging, kissing; a litter of puppies besieging their
mother at feeding time. In a twinkling they had emptied the carriage of
everything and I found myself swept along into the farmhouse.

I found myself in a long, wide room, with very low
ceilings and whitewashed walls. A huge fireplace was set opposite the door. It
must have made a goodly blaze in winter but today a scrap of a fire was all
that was burning, just enough to keep hot a cauldron suspended above it.

'You must be starving,' Hannah Cooper, cried,
directing us to take a seat. The children scampered to the table, pushing and
shoving each other with fairly good humour. The noise was tremendous. Then
Robert took his seat, folded his hands together and bent his head. The table
fell silent immediately and he said Grace in a voice which seemed to fill the
room. The moment he finished the clamour started up again and Hannah ladled out
a wonderful game stew onto our plates.

Later that night Amy and I shoe-horned herself into a
tiny chamber with the four Cooper girls. It contained nothing but one large bed
which did service for all the girls. Three were quite small, but the eldest,
Sissy, was fifteen years of age. She was a pleasant faced girl and she had been
struck by something about me as soon as we had arrived. Whenever I'd glanced in
her direction I found her eyes upon me. She did not seem embarrassed at being
discovered. She continued to stare and would finally give a little smile and
glance away.

'There's not much room here, Alice,' she said to me as
I walked into the bedroom. These were the first words she had addressed to me.
'But I'll shove up the others and we'll all be comfortable.'

She pushed her younger sisters to one side of the bed
and made room for Amy and me. I'll never be able to sleep like this, I thought.
But I did.

I awoke next morning with Sissy curled into me and the
youngest child draped around my neck.

The Peppers were tired by their long journey from London but I was exhausted, quite used up. It was as much as I could do to keep awake and I swear I
only did it because of the constant chatter and questions from the Cooper
children. Where was I from, who were my family, how old was I, who were my
friends, which animals did I like most, could I dance, could I sing, could I
play any musical instruments? The questions were like a constant downpour. And
then Sissy asked me where I lived and at this I stumbled for an answer.

'With your aunt and uncle,' I said. 'At least for the
moment.'

'But that's not been for long,' Sissy said. 'Amy told
me that. Where did you live before?'

The thought of Crane's brothel settled on me like a
flock of crows descending from the sky. I ran my fingers through my hair as if
by doing this I could shoo away the memory.

'I lived in Offal Pudding Lane,' I said. 'For a little
while.'

'That sounds horrible,' said one of the younger girls.
'Offal pudding. Yuck, sick.'

'And before you lived there?' asked Sissy. 'Did you
live with your family somewhere nice?'

I looked at her and wondered what her young life was
like and what it might turn out to be.

'No, Sissy,' I said, making up my mind. 'I lived in a
palace.'

No sooner had I said these words than the rest of the
girls and two of the boys appeared as if by magic.

'A palace?' gasped Sissy.

I nodded. 'Hampton Court Palace. Where the King and
Queen live.' Or where Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour used to
live, I thought.

'Never,' chorused the girls.

'Oh yes,' I said. 'For three years I lived in one or
other of the King's palaces. I was one of the Queen's maids of honour.'

Two of the littlest girls scrambled onto my lap and
the others sat themselves at my feet.

'Tell us everything,' Sissy cried, wild with
excitement.

So I did. Except the bit about being bedded by the
King.

I spent the rest of the summer at the Cooper's farm.
The Peppers left few days after arriving but Edith, seeing how well being in Stratford suited me, was adamant that I should not yet return to London. I was still so troubled and
exhausted that I did not have the strength to argue. And when I saw how happy
the whole Cooper family were at the thought of my staying I agreed. As soon as
I had done so a thrill of pleasure ran through me.

The Coopers were the most generous of hosts and
oftentimes I felt a little guilty at staying in their home and eating their
food. I broached this once with Hannah but she dismissed my worries with a
vigorous shaking of her head and a kindly smile.

'You've been through a lot, Alice,' she said. 'Edith
and Tom have told me everything but we needn't remind ourselves of it now.
You're here to recuperate and I'm going to make good and sure that you do.'