Horatio recovered from his shock and replied, “Well, girl, you see, Canterbury knows that Henry already knows these things. He’s saying them because he’s trying to talk Henry into invading France. So he’s not informing, he’s reminding. Also, he’s pointing out that the French king and his cohorts are liars and hypocrites, and have unjustly stolen land that should belong to England.”
“Ah.”
“Besides, if he didn’t say these things, the audience would be in the dark about the history, and history is what the play is about.”
Again the girl said, “Ah.”
“What’s your name, girl?”
“Liza, as I said earlier.”
“Yes, you did. You know the play.”
She shook her head. “As I said, yer grace, ah cannae read. Nae a word, if it please ye.” She dropped a quick, bouncy curtsey for good measure.
“You have remarkable comprehension of the scene from just one speech.”
She nodded. “Ah’m good wi’ folks, yer honor, sir. I ken things that often leave others a-scratching their heeds.”
Horatio absorbed that for a moment, then said, “If you would go have a seat over there in the gallery, I’ll talk to you again soon.”
The girl grinned, lifted her skirts again, and obliged, happily flouncing off the stage in a flurry of skirts and barely contained bosom.
Horatio, the boys in the pit, all the workmen, and Suzanne watched her plop down on a pile of lumber, and for a long moment there was silence. Then Horatio turned his attention to the waiting hopefuls standing in the pit, selected one for the next audition, and the workers went back to their hammering and sawing.
Chapter Nine
Daniel stayed away from the theatre during this time, and that annoyed Suzanne. It had stood to reason he should come to the theatre, and part of her had assumed it would be often. That he didn’t was a surprise and disappointment.
Then it annoyed her that she was annoyed, because she hadn’t thought she’d wanted to see him. Yet another part of her knew it was foolish to think he would loiter about the theatre for the sake of financial interest. Surely that hadn’t been her reason for going to him for money. She told herself this more than once, all the while glancing out over the stage, past the pit, and to the large entrance doors in hopes of seeing Daniel’s carriage in the street. Surely her only reason for involving him was that he was the only man she knew with real money he might be willing to give her. Naturally he had been the one to ask. Wanting to see him had nothing to do with any of it. Did it?
Particularly after the way he’d treated her that night last summer.
But when all was said and done, it still annoyed her that he didn’t come. All those years he’d been away with Charles, she’d never thought of his wife as a rival for his attention, because he had been in France, not with Anne. His wife never entered into the picture, and Suzanne could imagine him pining for his mistress. After all, who could ever long for a wife selected by one’s parents? Suzanne thought it impossible to love a spouse one had not chosen, and so assumed that if Daniel’s heart yearned it must yearn for herself. Surely it must.
But now that he was living with Anne in the new house he’d had built in Pall Mall, Suzanne began to wonder why she heard from him so rarely, and then only when there was business regarding the theatre and only by messenger. She was the liaison between him and Piers, and so passed messages back and forth. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, Daniel was reluctant to deal directly with Piers, and so she took care of some business details that might have been handled by her son. It suited her, for she was not shy about telling people what to do and what she wanted to happen, but soon she wished Daniel would address her about something other than business. Eventually she wondered why he didn’t, and then found herself annoyed.
One day in spring, when the weather had warmed nicely, on a whim she hired Samuel and Thomas to carry her across the river and around toward Whitehall. She had no thought of what she would do once she got there, but like so many things in her life it was an impulse she couldn’t resist. She went to the palace just for a look, as if to see whether any of it had changed since her last visit, or whether there was anyone about she might want to espy. Such as Anne. It annoyed her that Anne might be there, where she herself was not welcome, and in a moment of honesty she admitted to herself she was going there to spy on Daniel.
The trip was not a short one, and it was past noon when she was set down in the street across from the palace entrance. Traffic through the gate was lively today. Carriages made their hoof-clopping way in and out, while pedestrians wended between them, some occasionally hurrying or sidling to avoid being run over. The guards kept a sharp lookout, but Suzanne knew they couldn’t eye everyone who came through, especially the passengers in vehicles. As Suzanne had come to realize during her last visit, the king depended on guards closer in than the gate, and his personal bodyguard, to protect his person. The closer one came to the king, the more likely one was to have a pike thrust into one’s face.
As she watched, the entire guard came alert as one and busied themselves clearing the entrance. Suddenly nobody was allowed in or out of the gate, and those approaching it found themselves barred by pikes held parallel to the ground, like a human fence. Suzanne came alert herself, sat up in the sedan chair, and peered at the palace gate to see who was coming out. For several minutes nothing happened. Everyone near the gate leaned in as far as they were allowed and stared into the palace. There was nothing for Suzanne to see, though it was apparent something was expected by those near the gate.
Finally some people began to emerge at a stroll. Those standing near the entrance gawked.
At the front was the king, tall, leggy, and aglitter with silk and jewels. He was too far off for Suzanne to see details, but every so often the sun would glint from a bit of his costume. A small entourage accompanied him, nearly as rich and fashionable, shining in the sun and bouncing with feathers. Two women and several men walked within speaking distance of him. A small cluster of men came behind at a slight distance, not entirely on their own, but neither were they part of the king’s immediate circle. Each company was more or less surrounded by a sprinkling of guards armed with swords and pikes, and near the king walked two wielding arquebuses. The guns, held at ready, glinted in the sun as if they were part of the king’s jewelry.
Charles and his courtiers headed for St. James’s Park, directly across from the palace. The park had recently been opened to the public, and everyone knew the king enjoyed a stroll through it now and then. Today Suzanne could see that when the king went on an outing, nearly half the palace tagged along. So did some of the gawkers at the gate follow at a distance. Charles seemed to be enjoying himself, chatting with the woman at his elbow, a wide smile visible even from where Suzanne sat.
Then she caught sight of Daniel, strolling amid some friends in the cluster that followed the king. He laughed at something and touched a hand to his hat as a breeze came up and made the wide brim flap and feathers wave.
To Thomas and Samuel, Suzanne said in a hurry, “Here, have your pay now, you’re dismissed.” She slipped from the sedan chair and handed Thomas enough coins to cover the one-way trip. “If you find another fare before I return, I’ll make my way home some other way.” Perhaps she might talk Daniel into taking her home in his carriage.
The men didn’t appear happy she was leaving them, but Thomas bowed to her without comment. Samuel acknowledged her with a nod. They would probably still be there if she returned, for folks in this part of the city wanting to cross to Southwark were few, and those who did had carriages. The men would stay long to have her fare for that trip.
They slipped from her mind as she drew her cloak around her and hurried to reach Daniel before he entered the park. He was absorbed in a joke being told by one of his companions, and didn’t see her approach.
“Gracious good afternoon, my lord,” said Suzanne.
All three men turned to see who was ad
dressing them. A guard with a pike stepped in to bar her, but Daniel held out a hand for the man to stand down, that she was with him. His friends relaxed when they saw she was a stranger, a commoner, and nothing to concern either of them. Daniel gave her a small, conditional smile. “Good afternoon, Mistress Thornton. How are you today?”
His formal tone was like a pinprick to her heart, but she reminded herself that they were not in Southwark today. Regardless of who she was to him in private, or had been in the past, out in the sunshine and fresh breezes she was nothing more than a reformed whore and the mother of a business associate. Notwithstanding the new freedoms offered by the king, in its own way the moral climate of the restored monarchy was as hypocritical as that under Oliver Cromwell.
She replied, “I’m quite well, thank you, my lord. I wonder if I might walk with you a distance today. It’s such a fine afternoon, one can hardly resist a stroll in the park.” She turned her face to the sky, and it was very nice to feel the warmth of the sun on it.
“I think I might enjoy that, Mistress Thornton.” He addressed his companions. “If you both will excuse us, gentlemen.”
The two nodded their acquiescence, and Daniel and Suzanne fell away and to the side of those accompanying the king, while following the same general path.
Daniel’s mouth was a hard line when he turned back to Suzanne, but his words were mild and he offered her his arm. She laid a hand on it, lightly. He said, “You really ought not to come here, Suzanne.”
“I embarrass you?”
“Not today, but what if Anne were here? She does sometimes come to the palace, if not to see me specifically, then to visit with her brother.”
“She can see her brother anytime. She doesn’t need to come to the palace.”
“She likes to socialize with others of her rank. At home are only servants, and no family or friends to keep her company. No children. I can hardly blame her for wanting to spend time here of an afternoon. Very often, she does.”
“But she doesn’t happen to be here today. Aren’t you the fortunate one.”
Daniel gave her another thin-lipped look, then said, “What might I do for you today? Is there anything wrong at the theatre that couldn’t have been brought to my attention by messenger?”
His tone stung once more, but she pretended it didn’t, and kept her own voice light. “I was wondering when you would come to the theatre and see what your money has bought you.”
He grunted and gazed out across the park lawn as if enjoying the view, though she could sense he was enjoying nothing about this stroll. “I’ll be along soon enough. Meanwhile, I trust you to make certain nothing goes awry. You’ve always been skilled at getting what you want; you don’t need me to meddle in your affairs.”
Suzanne didn’t quite know how to take that. She was quite certain she rarely got what she wanted, and wondered why Daniel thought otherwise. Further, she wondered why he sounded as if he thought success a character flaw. Succeeding in getting what one wanted was a skill she valued, and envied in those who were more wealthy and charismatic than she. Why should one ever want to be the sort who failed to get what one wanted? How was that more virtuous than success? She sighed and decided she was eager to see the park and was quite enjoying the walk, and never mind what Daniel thought about anything.
She allowed an excited smile to lift the corners of her mouth, and she began looking around, trying to see everything at once, like a squirrel in search of danger. The place was beautiful; she’d never seen such orderly nature. Smooth, mowed grass, perfectly trimmed trees and shrubs in shapes nature never imagined. Even the birds seemed to behave as if they’d been born to the nobility and taught manners from an early age. They sang with a music never heard in other parts of the city, where gulls and rats climbed over one for food and warmth, and crows leapt upon dead and dying people and animals for their dinner. It struck Suzanne how odd it was that this park, landscaped as it was in the French fashion, was nature made far more orderly than the jumbled, reworked, rotting, catch-as-catch-can man-made squalor that made up the rest of London. While the city built by men leaned against itself every which way and had been constructed according to whim for a millennium and a half, this sanctuary of the natural world, with its birds, grasses, shrubs, and trees, was as disciplined and organized as a Calvinist pastor’s study.
Movement among the trees and shrubbery caught her attention. There cavorted men and women who thought themselves unobserved, or else didn’t care that they were observed. Suzanne had a glimpse of one couple as they casually disappeared into a thicket, their shaded movements still visible from the lawn. For a moment she watched them fumble at each other until she was bored with it and she found something else to look at.
She saw peeking from another part of that same thicket a face she recognized, but couldn’t quite place it for a few seconds. It was only a wide-eyed face she saw, framed with leaves and shadowed by trees. Then she realized who it was, and still didn’t truly believe she saw correctly. William Wainwright peered out from between two low trees, watching the king and his escort stroll across the lawn. He crouched like a stalking cat, staring hard at Charles. Like the brazen lovers, he thought himself unobserved, so she had a good look at him. It was he, for a certainty. Though he appeared unusually pale, his lowered brow and pressed lips expressed his habitual anger. His gaze followed the king for a space, then he ducked back into the bushes and that was the last she saw of him, even when Charles drew much nearer to the thicket before veering off in his wandering.
Why hadn’t William gone to France? Had he even intended to go as he’d said? She wished he had, and she tensed to realize he was still lurking about London. Her mind tumbled with questions, until she realized Daniel was talking to her and she’d not heard a word.
“I’m sorry, my lord. What did you say?”
He went silent for a moment, then said darkly, “How far back need I go?”
“Tell it all to me in short.”
He sighed. “In short, I do wish you would refrain from coming to the palace. If you must see me, send a message and let me come to you. And please make certain the message is delivered discreetly.”
“Whatever for? Puritan rule is over; there’s no need to pretend you have no mistresses.”
“Anymore, I don’t have any mistresses.”
“I no longer count?”
“We are no longer sleeping together.”
“Thank you for letting me know. After last summer, I wasn’t entirely certain.”
He gave her a puzzled look, blinking and squinting. “I found you whoring at the Goat and Boar. I thought you were looking to earn some money. I know you needed it. I thought I was doing you a favor.”
Shame reddened her cheeks. She wanted to walk away from him, leave the park, and never speak to him again. Instead she drew a deep breath and told him what she thought. “I was visiting with friends. When you invited me to sit with you, I thought you were trying to rekindle feelings.”
There was a long silence as they strolled. Suzanne could hardly breathe, waiting for what he would say next. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “I don’t dare.”
She also had to cough to make her voice work. “I disagree. We’re both adults. We’ve both matured these past years. I believe we could be together and be quite reasonable about it.”
“Of course we could. And it might be nice. But it would also be unwise.”
“In what way? Surely the king wouldn’t judge you for it.”
“Of course he would not. He’s entirely reasonable about such things, and could hardly be anything but. Others, however, would judge me, and harshly.”
“I doubt there’s a man in London who hasn’t his hand up the skirts of several of his friends’ wives. Or isn’t buggering the friends themselves. And nobody seems to care who knows who’s banging whom. Such as those over there.” She pointed with her chin toward the thicket where the couple she’d seen before was now emerging, straightening their clothing
, and appearing inordinately pleased with themselves as they glanced around to see who had observed them. “Plainly those two haven’t the least worry about who saw them groping at each other in the bushes.”
“Ha! Those two are the worst kept secret in London. They would most likely strip naked on the lawn in broad daylight if they wouldn’t be chastised for stealing everyone’s attention from Charles and his growing brood. Less a mortal sin of adultery, and more a case of poor sportsmanship.”
Suzanne chuckled, and leaned in close as if in conspiracy. “Naked on the lawn; there’s an image to dwell on. That fellow’s belly nearly touches his knees, and she’s so tiny she can barely get her arms about his waist. Her size rather suggests his, don’t you think?”
Daniel laughed. “So you see, though others may indulge in unseemly French behavior, I am far better off being more decorous.”
“And how did you behave when you were in France? Just how French did you become?”
He sighed and shrugged, still smiling, but somewhat ruefully now. “I did make two daughters. I can’t say I behaved particularly well.”
“And now that you’re once again by my side you’ve a sudden fit of conscience and will only be with me if you think it a charitable gift?”
“I’ve a sudden need to please my wife.”
“She’s being a bit unreasonable, I think. To expect you to behave differently from other men.”
“Differently from other men whose fortunes are more secure than mine. Or who don’t care much how their fortunes rise or fall.” There was an edge to his voice now, but Suzanne ignored it and carried on the banter.
“I think you should—”
Daniel stopped walking and held her arm tightly so his fingers dug into her flesh. His voice had more than an edge of anger now. “Listen to me, Suzanne. You will do what I say, and never come to the palace again uninvited. Do you hear me?”
The Opening Night Murder Page 13