A Love Most Dangerous (39 page)

She turned back to her cooking but then paused. 'Women
can be treated cruel in this world,' she said without looking at me. 'I'm lucky
because I found a good man. Not everybody has my good fortune.' Despite her
words her voice sounded pensive, almost sad. I wondered at it but decided not
to ask why. I never did find out.

Robert and Hannah were kept busy on the farm and in
the house. The eldest son, Edward, spent most of his hours working on the farm
and the few hours left over looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He was
seventeen years old and a tremendous blusher. He was a good-humoured, talkative
soul except when I was near. Then his tongue would trip him and he'd babble
like a baby, going crimson in the face. After a few moments it would get too
much for him and he would beat a hasty retreat. His parents smiled indulgently
and his younger siblings would cry out, 'Edward loves Alice, Edward loves Alice.' He would never respond apart from blushing even more furiously, though
once I saw him cuff his younger brother who had kept on with his taunting while
stepping within Edward's reach.

The other children showed their approval of me in
different ways. They followed me around when their tasks were done, they threw
themselves into my lap and demanded that I tell them stories of the King and
the court. I obliged them as much as I was able and as much as I saw fit. I
soon found out they were not my only audience. Hannah had no inclination to
hear my tales but I sometimes found Robert listening, every bit as enthralled
as his children. 'Strange doings in the palace,' he muttered to me sometimes.
'Strange doings.' But he always wished to hear more.

Of all the Cooper family it was Sissy who was most
fascinated by me. Whenever she could she tried to stay close beside me. When we
were all working preparing food she would summarily move any sister who had the
temerity to sit next to me and would take her place without a glance at me. She
was the most insistent in demanding that I tell stories. Although she loved to
hear about the King and Queen she was far more interested in what it was like
to be a maid-of-honour. What, in fact, it was like to be me.

She would hang on every word, slowing down in her work
so much that her mother got exasperated and had to upbraid her. I apologised
when this happened but Hannah always shook her head.

'It's not your fault, Alice,' she say. 'There's no
harm in talk and stories. Only harm when Sissy can't use her hands at the same
time as her ears.'

Sissy would not answer, contenting herself with poking
out her tongue when her mother turned her back. Then she would turn to me and
put her finger to her lips with a conspiratorial grin.

Because I was not used to farm work I was not much
help outside of the kitchen. But I was keen to do as much as possible
especially as the family were so busy with the harvest. I helped as much as I
could but the cutting and stacking of the wheat was much more complicated than
it looked. I must have been very poor at it for I was soon assigned to a gang
led by ten year old Rose, picking up the stalks the others had missed. It was
back-breaking work and I was not much use at even this task, working at about half
the rate of the youngest of the girls who was five. But I was pleased to do it.

The other job I was given I performed much better. I
was asked to tend to the hens, making sure they were fed and safe from foxes
and collecting the eggs each morning. This was a wonderful task and I always
took the two smallest children with me when I did it. I had not realised but
hens were often prone to lay their eggs in strange and hidden places. We
sometimes spent a deal of time searching out the eggs which had gone astray.

'I do believe these eggs have little legs,' I said
once. 'They see us coming and run away, hiding their feet when they see us
approach.'

The children became convinced of this tale and
earnestly told the rest of the family and got annoyed when they laughed and
would not be persuaded of the truth of it.

'Alice told me about the hens' legs,' said little
Annie. 'And she knows the King.'

That settled it of course. I knew the King so whatever
I said must be right.

The most useful job I did at the farm, however, was
nothing to do with the Coopers' lives as they lived them up until that point.
It happened by chance.

One day, about a week after arriving at the farm, I
felt more than usually tired and picked up a book I had brought with me from London. All of my possessions had disappeared when I'd been abducted by Crane and I was left with
nothing I could call my own. But Tom Pepper had borrowed, as he called it, a
dozen fine volumes from the King's library at the Tower and pressed them on me.
I sighed when he handed them to me, thinking of how books had led to my liaison
with the King. Would he resent me receiving them, I wondered. I know I had
fallen out of favour with him but surely he could not begrudge me the solace of
a few books? Not after what had happened to me. So I quietened my misgivings
and took the books.

The book I started to read that afternoon concerned a
merchant's travels to far distant lands in Africa and the Americas. He wrote of marvellous mountains and dreadful deserts and how he had almost lost his life
battling storms and the fiercest of winds. But more exciting for me were his
stories about the strange peoples he encountered, pygmy men with jet black
skin, hairy little men who lived in trees and could not speak except with their
hands and stately peoples conquered by the Spaniards who wore cloaks made of
feathers and had replaced every one of their teeth with gold ones.

He also wrote about the amazing creatures he had seen.
Giant fish who swam alongside his ship, crocodiles with armour-plate and razor
teeth and large cow-like creatures who lived in the river Nile and could open their jaws so wide a man could sit inside. He spoke of basilisks whose stare
could strike a person dead and salamanders who lived in the fiercest fire. I
almost began to doubt the merchant's stories but then he described birds as big
as ponies which had no wings but could run faster than the wind. I recalled
Tom's story of the giant bird in the Menagerie and realised then that the
merchant spoke only the truth.

As I was reading I became aware of someone watching
me. It was Sissy. She was standing in the doorway, a pail of milk in her hand.

'Is that a book?' she asked.

I nodded, surprised at the question.

She put the pail upon the table and stood beside me,
drooping on my shoulder, scanning the book intently. She pointed to the type.

'What are these for, Alice?' she asked.

'They're words,' I said.

She shook her head. 'But they don't speak do they? Not
like real words? Like words we're saying now?'

'No they don't speak like that,' I said. 'But they do
speak to me. A man wrote these words, as if he was telling a story, and when I
read them it's almost as if I can hear him speak.' I fell silent, wondering if
I made any sense at all.

'But you can't hear him?' Sissy said. 'You can't hear
him speaking?'

'In my head I can,' I said. I bit my lip. It was
harder to explain reading than I imagined it would be. Or it was to someone who
did not know what a book is. I wished that Father Luke or Susan Dunster were
here. I was sure they would explain it better than I could.

Sissy put her hand upon my cheek. 'Will you teach me
to read?' she asked. 'Will you please? I'd love it if you taught me how to
read.'

She came round and stared at me, her eyes big with
pleading.

'Of course I will,' I said. 'I'd like to. As long as
your father and mother agree.'

When Sissy and I went to ask permission we found that
Hannah was reluctant. 'It's not for girls to read,' she said. 'No good will
come of it.'

I wondered for a moment if she was alluding to me.

But to my surprise, Robert was more enthusiastic.
'Surely it can do no harm,' he said. 'The sons of rich men learn how to read at
school. As sure as eggs is eggs it can't do Sissy much harm. Her head's enough
in the clouds as it is. A little book learning can't make her any worse.'

So, despite Hannah's reservations I began to teach
Sissy to read.

She was a quick learner, even though she was
constantly interrupted by her younger sisters who also loudly declared that
they wanted to learn. In the end I gave in and began to teach all of the
younger children.

'You're a regular scholar,' Robert said to me one
evening, 'and it seems you're making little scholars out of my children.' He
came closer to me and put his hand on my arm. 'Take it slowly, Alice. Hannah is not keen on book-learning. It didn't do her uncle and aunt any good from what I've
heard.' He shook his head at my questioning look. 'She won't talk about it, got
angry when I used to ask what had happened to them. So please, don't go making
my children too fancy and above themselves.'

'I won't,' I said. 'In any case I won't be here long
enough to teach them more than their ABC.'

He shrugged. 'You can stay as long as you like, Alice. It's a joy to have you here.'

I watched him as he walked away, nervously wondering
if there was anything behind his words. I told myself not to be so foolish. I
must not think badly of every man, must not think the worst of them.

Sissy continued to work very hard at her reading,
spending every spare minute going over the alphabet until one day she was able
to recite it from beginning to end without a slip. I clapped with pleasure and
she went as red as her brother did.

'Go and show your parents,' I said. She was reluctant
at first but then agreed to do so after supper. When all the plates had been cleared
away she whispered in her father's ear and he smiled broadly.

'Sissy has a little trick to show us,' he said.

Sissy stuck her lips out at his words. 'It's not a
trick, father. It's something I done for myself.'

'Come on then,' he said, not unkindly. 'Let's here it
before the stars come out.'

She stood up and recited the alphabet, her hands
behind her back and her head in the air as if she were plucking the letters
from the ceiling. She made several mistakes in the order and repeated the
letter j three times but I was the only one to notice and did not draw
attention to it.

When she finished I led the applause. I cast an
anxious eye at Hannah. At the beginning of the recital she had sat in
stony-faced silence. But as Sissy proceeded her look began to melt and when the
time came she clapped as loudly and as long as anybody.

'Clever girl,' she said. Then she darted a quick,
stern look at her. 'But don't go thinking you're a lady like Alice. It's the cow-shed you'll be working in, not a palace.'

Sissy laughed at these words but I sensed that she was
a little hurt by them.

The next day, the weather grew very hot and sultry,
strangely so for mid-September. Storm clouds massed far to the south and the
heat grew more torrid. It was so hot that Hannah decided we would eat supper
outside. The children got almost hysterical with joy at the news and our meal
felt almost like a feast.

'Food tastes better outside, mother,' Edward said.

'I agree with Edward,' I said. He blushed right down
to his neck and I thought he might expire on the spot. 'Your cooking is always
excellent, Hannah,' I continued, 'but today it is the best I have ever eaten.'

'Better than your grand feasts at Hampton Court?' she asked shyly.

'Much better. Much much better.'

The air grew hotter as night fell. The children were
sent to bed and the adults and two older children sat under the stars a little
while longer while Robert told them stories about the doings of Badgers and
Hares. Finally, yawing with pleasure, everyone went to bed.

Sissy bundled her sleepy sisters into a tiny corner of
the bed and fanned herself with her hand.

'It's so hot,' she said. 'I'd like to sleep outside
but I daren't.' She paused and then her words came quiet in the darkness.
'Besides, I'd get lonely with only the old moon for company.'

'It's better safe and sound in here,' I murmured
drowsily.

'It is better, isn't it?' Sissy whispered. 'Even if it
is hot.'

I woke in the dark hours of the night feeling as if a
heavy weight was smothering me. I realised what it was as soon as my eyes
flickered open.

Sissy was lying on me, stroking my stomach as gently
as a mouse. With a shock I realised that she was quite naked.

I wanted to jump up but something told me not to. I
did not want to alarm or upset her. Instead I lay still as she stroked and
fondled, her breathing fast and light. I bit my lip and still I did not move.
Then she moved her head, slow as a cat hunting birds, until I could feel her
breath upon my cheek. She kissed me gently upon the lips. I thought of my
dreams of Anne Boleyn and could not prevent a sigh. I felt Sissy pause and
listen, and then she kissed me on the cheek and lay down beside me, her hand
upon my thigh.

'Sweet dreams, Sissy,' I thought. I realised that she
was having a girlish crush on me and smiled. I felt strangely flattered and
pleased at her attention. For the first time since being abducted I felt loved
and good and pure.