This was a bad start. Shakespeare had no desire to cross swords with this woman. He stood there awkwardly, like a grammar school boy, looking at her, not sure what to do or say next. He did not want to play the heavy government agent with her.
“I am sorry, Mr. Shakespeare,” she said at last, a smile lighting her blue eyes. She wore a long dress of fine burgundy-red wool and matching bodice. Her ruff was simple and her long dark hair was uncovered. The whole effect was to accentuate the unwavering character in her eyes and mouth and the slenderness of her figure. “I am sure you did not come here to be berated so. It is unforgivable to leave you on the doorstep in the cold. Please, do come in.”
He thanked her and stepped into the warmth of the house. From within, he heard the sound of children laughing and playing.
“That is Mr. Woode’s children. Would you like to meet them? Perchance they have been harboring priests.”
Shakespeare found himself smiling. “Your sense of comedy may well prove your undoing, Mistress Marvell.”Shakespeare found himself smiling. “Your sense of comedy may well prove your undoing, Mistress Marvell.”
“Well, that is who I am, I’m afraid, sir. If speaking my mind leads me to Tyburn, it will say a powerful lot more about you and Walsingham than it will about me. I am sure of that.”
Shakespeare sighed deliberately and dismissively, the way his old schoolteacher used to do whenever a pupil gave a poor excuse for being late on a winter’s morning. “That, as you know well, mistress, is not the point. And you must know that it is not I who would bring you to the headsman’s axe. There are… others… others less understanding, less mindful of your welfare.”… others… others less understanding, less mindful of your welfare.
“Yes, I realize that. But you are in bed with them, Mr. Shakespeare, and you cannot so easily distance yourself from your bedfellows.”
“Nor you, mistress. For you must know that the Romish priest Ballard conspired to kill our sovereign lady. You must know that the Pope himself has condoned the Queen’s murder and sends seditious young men from the serpents’ nest of the English college in Rome to undermine her realm. Are these your bedfellows?”
Catherine’s eyes burned bright. “I have no bedfellows, sir. I am a maiden. Come, let us go to the children. They have better conversation.”
She led the way through to the nursery. The boy, Andrew, immediately ran to her and threw himself into her arms. He was a hefty six-year-old with fair hair like his father and the same broad brow. The girl, Grace, looked to Shakespeare like a younger version of the portrait in the hall of Woode’s late wife. Grace also ran to Catherine, dragging a wooden doll along the timbered floor by its one remaining limb. Catherine put her arms around each of them and crouched down to their level to hug and kiss them. Suddenly the children noticed Shakespeare and drew themselves closer into their governess’s arms.
“Andrew, Grace, this is Mr. Shakespeare. Will you please greet him as you should.”
“Good morrow, sir,” the boy said firmly as he had been taught.
Shakespeare bowed down and shook his hand. “And good morrow to you, Master Andrew.”Shakespeare bowed down and shook his hand. “And good morrow to you, Master Andrew.”
Grace merely turned her head away coyly and would say nothing.
“Never mind,” Shakespeare said. “I’m sure she has far more important things to do caring for her doll than talking with tedious adults.”
Catherine removed the two children gently from her arms and patted them. “Go and play while I talk with Mr. Shakespeare, please.”
The children ran off across the room, as far from Shakespeare as they could get. “Now, can I offer you some refreshment, Mr. Shakespeare? Perhaps some hot spiced malmsey?”
“No, thank you. Do not put yourself to any trouble. I have one or two questions, that is all.”
“And how should I answer you? Truthfully and risk my head? With comedy and set myself on the road to Tyburn? Or should I dissemble and stay alive, sir?”
Shakespeare ignored her barbed remarks. He knew he could match her atrocity for atrocity and more. He could mention the French Catholics’ slaughter of thousands of Protestant Huguenots on St. Bartholomew’s Day; he could regale her with the horrors of Torquemada’s Inquisition burnings. Instead he got straight to the point. “Did you know Lady Blanche Howard?”
Catherine barely hesitated, but it was enough for Shakespeare to notice. “I did, Mr. Shakespeare. I loved her like a sister.”
The honesty of the answer caught him off guard. “Why did you not mention this before?”
“Why, sir, I did not know it was pertinent to your inquiries. And, anyway, you did not ask me.”
“Please tell me how you knew her.”
Catherine stepped toward the door. “Come, let us go and sit in the library while we talk; we will not be disturbed by children’s prattle. Are you sure you will not take refreshment?”
Shakespeare thanked her and said that he would after all take some mulled wine. While he waited for Catherine to return with the drink, he paced the library, examining Woode’s extensive collection of books, many of them Italian. From somewhere, in another part of the house, he heard the sounds of hammering. When Catherine reappeared a few minutes later, he thanked her for the wine and asked about the noise.
“This house is not yet finished, Mr. Shakespeare. The carpenters and stonemasons are still working on the area to the west of the court.”
“It seems curious to me that such a large house should have so few members of staff.”
“That has been the way while the construction work has been continuing. Master Woode did not want to move away and disturb the children any more than necessary, so instead we stayed here and he reduced the household; I confess we have lived in a rather confined space. I have been the only one staying here; it is only recently that we have had so much room. Maids and cooks come in by day, as and when necessary, and I direct them. Happily, I believe we will have more domestic servants when the work is complete.”
Shakespeare gathered his thoughts. “Mistress Marvell, you were telling me about Lady Blanche. I confess I am surprised that you knew her. She was a lady of the court; you are governess to a merchant’s children.”
“I think you are trying to say that I was not of her standing…”
Shakespeare reddened. “I am sorry, I did not mean to imply that.”
“Really? I am sure that is exactly what you meant to imply. And you are quite right. I am a humble schoolteacher’s daughter from York, Mr. Shakespeare. I have no fortune and few prospects. Blanche was a daughter of one of England’s great families and might well have been expected to marry an earl or a duke. How could there possibly be any common ground between us?”
“Well, how could there?”
Catherine tilted back her head. “I feel sure you have already divined that, Mr. Shakespeare. It was, of course, our religion. Blanche had lately returned to the Roman church and we met at Mass.”
“Where, pray, was this Mass held?”Where, pray, was this Mass held?
“Mr. Shakespeare, you must know I cannot tell you that. I am only telling you this much because I wish the perpetrator of the terrible crime to be caught. And…”
She looked away from him to the window. The sky outside was winter white. Shakespeare waited. She turned back.
“And because I trust you, Mr. Shakespeare.”
Her words sent a shiver down his spine. The intelligencer in him, the state agent, feared her trust. The last thing he wanted was to be drawn into secrets that he could not keep. He sipped the wine and savored its warm sweetness. “Mistress Marvell,” he said at last, “you must realize that I cannot promise to keep secret anything you tell me. My first duty is to Mr. Secretary and Her Majesty the Queen.”
Catherine laughed dryly. “I know that. Don’t worry, I do not intend to compromise you in any way. All I mean is that I trust you to use whatever I tell you judiciously.”
“Then tell me more about Lady Blanche.”
“Well, she could seem very young at times-full of life and laughter. At other times she was serious and devout. She had ideas of going to Italy or France to join a convent, but then she changed her mind. At the time I did not understand what had altered. Now, of course, I know. She fell in love.”
