Kissing Shakespeare (10 page)

I must have looked pathetic, because Stephen said, “Would you like to come, Olivia?”

I knew he was simply being kind. “No thanks. It sounds like a guy thing.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “As you say, then. Maybe you’ll find an opportunity to spend time with Shakespeare tomorrow. If not, most surely on Easter. I shall look for you after the ride. We can share a meal.” He turned and strode off.

“Right.” I didn’t mention he’d interrupted Will and me as we were about to kiss. If he was so eager for me to seduce Shakespeare, why had he acted so weird about the love poetry?

I strolled over to the windows and looked out onto the courtyard. I glimpsed Stephen as he emerged from the house, on his way to the stables. He seemed very single-minded in his purpose, and yet I sensed protectiveness toward me too. Like he cared for me a little, in a brotherly way, even if he did think I was promiscuous.

Maybe losing my virginity to Will Shakespeare wouldn’t be a bad thing. After all, it had to happen sometime. Why not with Will? He was definitely cute, and he liked me. Even if I didn’t love him, I loved the sonnets and plays. Those were a part of him, and would forever be a part of me, too.

I smiled, thinking about how hooking up with Will would really give me one up on my mother. Not that she’d ever know about it.

I
WOKE UP FAMISHED
on Saturday morning, only to find out from Bess that the day before Easter was a strictly observed fast day. The only food and drink in my near future was a slice or two of coarse brown bread and a tankard of ale. Lucky for me, I had one hot cross bun left from yesterday. I’d save it for later, though. By evening I’d probably be half dead from hunger. I felt restless, like I might start screaming if I didn’t find someone to talk to or something to do. Since I’d been trapped inside yesterday, a walk around the grounds sounded appealing. I couldn’t find Stephen, so I headed downstairs by myself.

On the lower level, I passed the library, backed up, and decided to peek in for a quick look around. The door stood partially open, and I heard voices, which I recognized as belonging to Will and Thomas Cook. After scoping out the hallway to make sure no one else was around, I pressed my back against the wall, as close to the door as I could get without being discovered.

“You are shaken about what you witnessed yesterday,” Thomas Cook was saying.

“In truth, I never thought to see something so evil. I have not found my heart’s ease since, I confess.”

“I am sorry, Will.”

“You are not to blame. Did you know the poor man?”

“In Rome, but I did not know he had been sent to England. ’Tis a lonely and fearful life we lead here.”

So Stephen had been right about Cook being the Jesuit. The events in Preston must have been horrific for him.

“Your life could be in danger too, Father Thomas!”

“I have made my peace with God, Will. I do not fear death, although I would not like my life to end so soon.”

“Indeed, no.”

“Prayer offers great comfort after such as we saw yesterday,” Thomas said.

“I—I have tried to pray, but each time, the image of the man burning leaps into my mind. All I see are his haunted eyes.”

“I find at times like these, solitude and quiet enable me to find God’s peace.”

“Aye,” Will said. He sounded depressed.

Maybe to lift Will’s spirits, Thomas changed the subject. “Have you given thought to further education?”

“It was my wish, and my father’s, too, that I be educated at Oxford. But Father fell into debt, and so here I am, a lowly country schoolmaster.” There was a slight pause, and then he said, “Do not mistake me, sir; I am grateful to have this post.”

“But mayhap there is another path you could take.”

“What do you mean?”

“The one I chose. The priesthood and the Society of Jesus.” I could hear the passion in his voice, could imagine him leaning close to Will, his eyes gleaming. I stepped away from the door. I had to tell Stephen about this. But Thomas kept talking, so I kept listening.

“You could leave England for the Continent. Rome, perhaps, or the Low Countries. You’d be in the company of many Englishmen, and could remain there until things are more settled here.” Thomas Cook’s voice was made for the theater. It was deep and resonant, almost hypnotic, and he spoke with perfect diction. Mr. Finley, my annoying drama teacher, would love him.

“I don’t know if I want that life, sir. With all due respect, one gives up much to become a priest. And after yesterday … I fear I am too cowardly to submit to torture and burning.”

“Not all are asked to make such a sacrifice. That does not mean you are not suited to the priesthood.”

“I will think on it,” Will said.

He didn’t sound at all convinced. Should I interrupt, say I was looking for someone to walk with? I hesitated. The sound of footsteps heading my way decided me. I didn’t want to be caught listening at the door, so I pushed it open and strolled in.

“Oh! Pardon me. I was looking for Stephen.”

Both men turned toward me. Master Cook, whose face fell when he saw me, stood near the fireplace. Will was on the settle.

“I believe Fulke and your brother are practicing with the longbow,” he said.

“ ’Tis such a lovely day, now that the rain has stopped. I thought a walk about the grounds would be pleasant. Would either of you like to join me?”

Will took the bait, practically leaping off the settle. “I would,” he said. Bowing briefly to Master Cook, he offered me his arm. Thomas tilted his head a fraction, and I curtsied. Outside in the hallway, we found Jennet studying a tapestry. Had she been eavesdropping too? More likely, she’d heard Will’s voice and was waiting for him to emerge.

“Mistress Jennet, come walking with us,” Will said.

A glow suffused her face at his words. Jennet really was attractive, which had slowly been dawning on me. She was one of those lucky girls whose hair grew thick and wavy, and its tawny color framed a fair complexion and brilliant green eyes. Her teeth were still white and even, which was pretty amazing, because dental work, or the lack of it, was definitely a problem in these times. Missing and decayed teeth seemed pretty common.

Jennet held Will’s other arm. Outdoors, although the grass was wet, the sun shone strong and bright. We headed toward the tilting green, where Will said the shooting was taking place.

“Pray go ahead of me,” I said. Once we’d left the outer courtyard and stepped into the garth—Stephen’s word for the stable yard—dodging puddles and dung was easier to do by myself. I did manage to listen in on Will and Jennet’s conversation, though. I was turning into a first-class snoop.

“I thought you were leaving us this morning,” Will said.

“My father will presently arrive to escort me home for Easter Sunday. I wanted to take my leave of you first.”

Will smiled down at Jennet. “I am glad that you did. When do you return?”

“On Monday morning.” Jennet gave him a dazzling smile, and then abruptly changed the subject. “What were you and Master Cook discussing?”

“My education,” Will answered. “He believes I should continue my studies.”

“And will you?”

“I have no plans to do so at present.” His answer seemed guarded. He mentioned nothing about the priesthood idea.

Maybe Thomas Cook faced a real challenge in recruiting Will, who, at least for now, didn’t seem that interested in becoming a Jesuit. If that were the case, Stephen wouldn’t need me, and I could go home.

We heard Stephen and Fulke before they came into view. “Friend, do you wish to become more indebted to me, or shall we just shoot for the sport?” Stephen asked.

Fulke hooted. “Lady Luck has favored you, Langford.”

“And your bragging is more skilled than your shooting,” Stephen shot back, extracting arrows from the target. As he pivoted toward the shooting line, he spotted us.

“Good morrow, ladies,” he said, bowing. “Master Will, some archery practice?”

“Would you mind?” Before Jennet or I could answer, Will pulled away from us and accepted the bow from Stephen.

“May I walk with you, ladies?” Stephen asked.

“I shall stay here and watch the archery,” Jennet said. “Go on without me.”

“As you wish,” Stephen said. He whistled, and Copernicus came galumphing over and walked along beside us.

“So, you’re an archer and a musician, as well as a time traveler,” I said. “What other talents do you possess that haven’t revealed themselves yet?”

“Mind your tongue, Olivia. You could be overheard.” He glanced quickly around. “To answer your question, only skills all lads of my class are taught, so that one day we can provide for our wives and children.” He turned sober for a moment, his eyes darkening and revealing that wounded look. Something was troubling him. Something besides the Shakespeare mission.

“Social class, you mean? I assumed you were a knight or something.”

Stephen chuckled. “No, I am merely a gentleman, the same as my uncle.” He took my arm. “Let’s walk to the rose garden.” Once there, he led me to a stone bench warmed by the sun, and Copernicus plunked down at our feet.

“Why did you name your dog Copernicus?” Hearing his name, Cop rose and rested his head in my lap. I scratched behind his ears, and he gave an appreciative whimper.

“Because I am interested in Copernicus’s cosmological theories, especially that the Earth revolves around the sun.”

I gulped. “I hope you didn’t mention that to anyone when you were—”

“I am not slow witted, Olivia. I knew enough not to speak of scientific matters.” He scowled at me before asking if I’d had a chance to talk to Shakespeare.

“Not alone. But I overheard a conversation between him and Thomas Cook.” I told Stephen what I’d heard the two discussing.

“So it is Cook! He is a man of great intellect and persuasive power. I could see Will easily falling under his spell.” He rested a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Nicely done, Olivia. Now that we know for certain what we’re up against, we—you—can concentrate on the real work,” he said, with a meaningful lift of one brow.

This seemed as good a time as any to speak my mind. “Stephen, I don’t think this plan of yours makes sense.”

“I beg your pardon?”

I smirked. “You heard me. My sleeping with Will won’t be enough to prevent him from becoming a priest. Don’t lots of priests have mistresses, even wives?”

“Indeed. But your … liaison … would, mayhap, be enough to convince him that his interests are more worldly.”

“I told you, Stephen, I’m not worldly. Not experienced.”

He looked like a man who wasn’t sure what he was about to say was a good idea. After hesitating a few seconds, he spoke. “The youth who played Petruchio in
The Taming of the Shrew
. John. He’s your lover, is he not? I saw the two of you embrace.”

Oh, God
. Macy was right—he had been watching me, and not just at rehearsals. “What, you were following me around?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Well, at least he wasn’t lying about it. “We were dating, but we never slept together.”

“So he hasn’t bedded you?”

I ground my teeth, hard. “Of course not. I don’t even like him that much.”

“That would be a problem?”

Breathe deeply, Miranda
. “It would be for me.”

“So you’ve never slept with a man?”

“No!” I repeated. “How many times do I have to say it?”

He looked skeptical, and I was pretty sure he still didn’t believe me. “While in your time I viewed some plays on the TV device. All the young ladies were bedded by their gentlemen friends.”

“What shows were you watching?”

Stephen leaned forward and propped his chin in his hands. “Let me see if I can recall. One was
Gossip
something.”

I was incredulous. “
Gossip Girl
?”

“The very one.”

“And you believed all that? You think that’s how girls in my century behave?”

“It wasn’t that alone. The colorful quartos in the shops. So many near-naked wenches with their bodies draped around their young swains.”

“What, you were hanging out in 7-Eleven reading
People
and
Us Weekly?
” I couldn’t help myself; I laughed out loud.

He looked so guilty that I smothered my laughter. “Stephen, the TV shows are exaggerated so more kids will watch them, and the ratings … Oh, never mind. The magazines—they’re just trash. Not about normal people.”

“Ah. So I was deceived.” He grinned sheepishly.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Soundly gulled, eh? And yet there must be a kernel of truth there. I took note of couples at the school, how they kiss and hold each other in public. And the young ladies dress provocatively.”

He had me there. No denying lots of couples were big on PDA, and girls went around in tight, low-cut tops and shorts as skimpy as panties. “Yes. But not me.”

He watched me for a long moment, and then reached out and grasped my hand. “Have you already put aside the vow you made yesterday?”

“Of course not. I’m just not convinced seduction will be enough.”

“It will be enough for now. We have an immediate need, and seduction would be an immediate help.”