Free The Betrayal by Mary Hooper Page B

courtyard containing, in one corner, a stable block. Here could be seen scores of horses. Some of these were being groomed, some exercised, and some were just standing patiently gazing out of their open stable doors. Opposite this line of stables was an orchard, and beyond this the entrance to a tilt yard with tall stands and coloured pennants flying. People came and went busily between all of these places.
    ‘A new play by the Queen’s Players!’ I called, and a young serving girl carrying a pile of starched linen napkins took a copy of my bill. She hardly glanced at it, however, and I doubted that she could read it.
    ‘A new play!’ she exclaimed. ‘And are you one who acts in it?’
    I cleared my throat. I’d not thought I’d have to answer any questions and I’d only rehearsed calling the same two sentences in my new, deep voice. ‘Yes, I have … er … a small part to play in it,’ I answered gruffly.
    ‘Indeed!’ the girl said. ‘I’ve long wanted to go to a play. Tell me, would it be seemly for a maid to go on her own?’
    This question put me in a dilemma. ‘Some say it is …’
    She smiled at me. ‘And what do
you
say, master actor?’
    ‘I say … perhaps it would be better if someone could accompany you. Do you not have a sweetheart?’
    She lowered her head and looked at me from under her lashes. ‘I do not.’
    This look, and this answer, perplexed me. I’d gazed at several young men in this way, but had never before been on the receiving end of such a look and found it disconcerting. ‘It may be … er … more seemly for you to go with one of the male sex.’
    ‘But I do not have a sweetheart.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘And I have no time to find one, for I work in Her Majesty’s laundries near every day of the year.’
    ‘That’s a pity,’ I said, speaking gruff and awkward.
    She smiled. ‘But I sometimes get two hours off in the afternoon, so I could easily come to the playhouse! I may come and see you.’
    ‘You may not recognise me,’ I said quickly. ‘I act as a girl, you see, and am to play the part of a waiting-woman.’
    She laughed. ‘To do that must feel very strange.’
    ‘Not that strange,’ I said before I could stop myself.
    She looked at me quizzically.
    ‘For an actor!’ I added quickly. ‘We are used to taking all parts: old, young, king, queen … ghost!’
    ‘And for how long have you been an actor?’
    ‘I admit, not very long,’ I said truthfully, for it was less than one hour.
    As we were speaking, those who looked after the horses were coming and going, and there was much noise from a nearby wooden building (which I found out later contained courts on which was played a game called tennis). Although all seemed perfectly open and informal, I could see that inside the palace doorways a guard with a sharpened halberd was standing, and if any strangers tried to force their way in, no doubt this would be used against them.
    ‘My name is Barbara,’ the girl said. She looked at me, head on one side. ‘And your name, master actor?’
    ‘My name’s Luke,’ I said.
    ‘And if I should come to the theatre next week, might I see you there?’
    I coughed, embarrassed. ‘Perhaps, perhaps …’ I said, raising a hand in farewell.
    The girl, smiling at me all the while, carried on towards one of the nearby buildings with her pile oflinens, and a group of kitchen ’prentices came up to me and asked for a bill, saying that they couldn’t read but would show it to one of the cooks, who’d once said that he’d take them to a play. I told them the names of the play and theatre and had begun to walk on towards where I could see a very large and flourishing kitchen garden, when a small party of horse-riders came across the orchard, calling to each other and laughing. I looked at them and my breath caught in my throat, for as the two leading riders neared us, I saw they were no other than Tomas and the new lady-in-waiting.
    My heart was thumping, but I