The Betrayal

by Mary Hooper

  ‘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 of linens, 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 steeled myself not to run. It would be thrilling to see Tomas again, and even more so to see how he behaved in his everyday life. Even, perhaps, discern how it stood between him and the lady, who was of course fixed in my head as my rival. I walked back towards the shadow of the stable block, pulling my coif well down my forehead and ensuring that it covered as much of my face as possible. I’d just had a maidservant flirt with me, so thought I must make a passable-looking lad. Besides, I knew from experience that the nobility hardly looked at the vast army of servants who underpinned their day-to-day lives.

  I turned slightly away from the riders. ‘New play at the Curtain!’ I called as two street-sellers, possibly having seen potential customers approaching, appeared.

  One was calling, ‘Fine ribbands of all colours!’ and the other was an old, old man croaking, ‘Whitstable oysters, all fresh and new!’

  There were six riders in all, and Tomas was off his horse the first, standing up in his stirrups and leaping to the ground. He ran to the lady-in-waiting and helped her down from her pony, then (while I wondered if she’d lingered in his arms a little longer than was strictly necessary) led the two horses towards a stable and began speaking to a groom.

  I took the opportunity to approach the group.

  ‘A new play at the Curtain!’ I said, offering them a bill.

  None of them gave any indication of having heard me.

  ‘The Country Husband, at the Curtain!’

  My rival, who was dressed in a black fur jerkin with embroidered fastenings, turned and glanced at me, and I did not imagine the look of complete disdain on her face. Of course, I was dressed very humble, not in satins and velvets as were her party, nor with hair as deep and shiny a brown as the conkers that boys game with – but there was no reason for her to look at me with such contempt.

  She beckoned to the ribband seller and, with the other three ladies of the party, exclaimed over his wares. ‘Such colours!’ she said, picking up the ribbands and letting them slide through her fingers. Tomas returned and she tossed back her hair and smiled at him. ‘Tomas! Do you think a green ribband would suit the colour of my hair?’

  ‘It would suit it very well indeed, Madam – as may be discerned from the many other green ribbands you have already!’

  She gave a little pout at this, which pleased me immensely, for to me it meant that Tomas was not in the habit of buying her ribbands. This practice (though I own it may be different in London), if followed at home in Hazelgrove, meant you were practically betrothed, and was at least a sign that you were walking out together.

  The ladies turned away from the peddler and began to walk towards the archway I’d come through, while the other male member of the party stopped to speak to a groom. How delightful it would be, I thought, to play a jape on Tomas in return for the many he’d played on me. Seizing my chance and my courage, I called out to him, ‘New play at the Curtain!’

  He held out his hand and I gave him a playbill. ‘And are you a player?’ he asked.

  ‘I am, Sire!’

  ‘What part do you act in this play?’

  I prayed I was not blushing. ‘Just a small part. A maidservant.’

  ‘You play the girls’ roles?’

  ‘I do, being … er … smaller of stature and softer of voice.’

  He nodded. ‘Indeed. I think that must be the only place where such qualities are called for in a man.’

  ‘You speak truly,’ I said, my heart in my mouth. ‘But ’tis a good new play. Perhaps you might come next week with your friends.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘Will you be taking a part every day?’

  ‘I believe so, Sir.’ I gave a short, formal bow, Tomas returned the same and we then turned to go in opposite directions. My heart was thumping furiously. I’d seen him; actually spoken to him – and he hadn’t recognised me. Oh, how I’d be able to tease him later!

  I reached the archway and a voice called, ‘Hey, Lucy!’

  Before I could stop myself I turned with the word ‘Yes?’ on my lips – and there stood Tomas, hands on hips, grinning at me.

  ‘Oh!’ I stamped my foot with vexation.

  He began laughing. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t know you?’ he asked. ‘Did you think that the queen’s fool could be fooled quite so easily?’

  ‘But when did you know it was me?’

  ‘Just as soon as we rode up. Before that, even.’

  ‘Truly?’

  He nodded. We looked at each other and my heart thumped again.

  ‘Well, Lucy,’ he asked very seriously, ‘how do you fare here in London?’

  ‘I do very well, I thank you, although the Dee family is not yet arrived.’

  ‘And now I find that you are working for the playhouse!’

  ‘I have only just been taken on there because of sickness,’ I said, adding hastily, ‘and they don’t know that I’m a girl!’

  ‘’Tis a good disguise,’ he said, looking at me closely, ‘and one that we can employ, mayhap.’ I fought the sudden urge to pull off the coif and let down my hair, knowing I must look awfully plain with not a curl to be seen and not a bit of lace or frill about my person.

  ‘But what of the Scottish queen?’ I asked. ‘And when will you send for me to do some work for Her Grace again? How does our royal lady? Is her heartache eased somewhat?’

  He smiled at my pell-mell of questions. ‘The Scottish queen is to be moved to Fotheringay Castle, where she will be watched day and night.’

  ‘So Her Grace is perfectly safe now?’

  He shook his head. ‘One can never say that, for Walsingham’s spies discover new plots at every turn. While Mary of Scotland lives, Her Grace can never be truly safe.’

  ‘Then why doesn’t she order her death?’ I asked in a low voice.

  Tomas shrugged. ‘’Twould be an awesome and shocking thing for the queen to do, for they are both crowned heads of state and God’s anointed. Besides, they are close related: first cousins.’

  ‘But is it still likely that Mary could …’

  He was shaking his head before I finished. ‘You need not be too fearful,’ he said, ‘for Mary’s Catholic followers don’t have enough money to raise the army they need in order to overthrow her guard, march on London and take the throne.’

  I smiled, relieved about this, at least. ‘And what of the other matter? Is Her Grace more composed now? Has she forgiven Robert Dudley?’

  ‘She has not!’ He smiled wryly. ‘She has banned him and his new wife from Court.’

  ‘Indeed!’

  ‘Although she is somewhat occupied by something else at this moment …’

  ‘A new suitor?’ I asked eagerly.

  He shook his head. ‘No, she is well occupied with Sir Francis Drake’s treasure, for he’s arrived back from a skirmish with such a burden of gold and jewels that his ship rides low in the water.’

  I gasped.

  ‘Amongst the treasure there is said to be a diamond which is as big and blue as a plum,’ he whispered.

  I marvelled at this very much. ‘Has he given it to the queen?’

>   ‘It’s believed that he’s given her a share of the cargo: gold and treasure of innumerable worth, but no one is sure if she also has the blue diamond. The value of such a rare and beautiful object would be almost incalculable.’

  I shifted the remaining playbills in my hand, wanting to bring the conversation to a more personal level. ‘And are you busy in London just now, Tomas?’ I asked. ‘Does the queen hold as many fête days and masques as she did in Richmond?’

  ‘Not as many – but as spring arrives, there will be more.’ In the background, I saw my friend from the royal laundry, Barbara, passing, looking at us curiously. ‘And as you know,’ Tomas went on, ‘the queen much enjoys a new play, so perhaps your company of actors will be requested to perform at Whitehall.’

  ‘I’d very much enjoy that.’ I paused and forced my face into a pleasant, enquiring smile. ‘And the new lady-in-waiting that you were squiring; has she settled into her position?’

  ‘Mistress Juliette?’

  I did not know this was her name, but it was the sort of name I would have expected her to have, so nodded.

  ‘She has settled. Mistress Juliette quite enjoys riding now, and she makes music, composes poetry, embroiders and sings with the other ladies at Court as easily as if she was born to it. Which she was, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ It was an effort to keep the smile on my face, but I believe I managed it. I was about to bid Tomas a reluctant farewell when I heard the thundering of hooves and in a moment a black horse, sweating very much, came around the corner. Its rider – who was dressed in a deep-purple velvet cloak and hat trimmed with silver – slipped off and tossed the reins to Tomas, saying, ‘If you please, Sirrah!’

  Tomas bowed, half-mockingly, for it was obvious that the rider had mistaken him for a groom.

  ‘See to it that my horse is stabled,’ the man continued, then strode off at a fast pace towards the palace.

  I looked after him. ‘Who was that?’

  Tomas grinned, swinging the reins. ‘Did you not know him at close quarters? That was Sir Robert Dudley.’

  I clapped my hand to my mouth. ‘You said he was banned from Court.’

  ‘Banned – yes. But that doesn’t prevent him from trying to see Her Grace. And married or no, it is obvious that he still loves her and has her best interests at heart.’

  I twisted the groat at my neck. ‘Remember that I, too, love the queen and want to serve her,’ I said, for being within the grounds of the royal palace and observing the workings of the Court all around me had reminded me of how thrilling it was to be close to Her Grace.

  ‘Your turn will come,’ he said. ‘And now I must see that this horse is stabled, then go and check what entertainments the queen has asked for tonight.’

  We smiled at each other and I, remembering in time that I was still dressed as a lad, did not offer him my hand to kiss.

  ‘I will see you very soon.’ He gave a formal bow, winking at me the while, and I returned the same and we parted.

  What entertainments would he preside over that night? I wondered all the way home. Little masques and playlets that he would act with Juliette? Pastoral scenes with her dressed as a milkmaid and he a shepherd boy? The new dance from Italy which required the gentleman to clasp the lady around the waist and lift her into the air? In my head, I imagined all these and more, and therefore was not in a good humour when I arrived back at the house in Green Lane.

  I went indoors and, stopping to take off my pattens, heard voices in the kitchen and realised that Sonny had returned. Pleased at this, for I had begun worrying about how long he’d been gone, I went down the passageway eager for news. To my surprise I found him sitting hunched up before the fire looking miserable, the track-marks of tears on his face. There was an unpleasant smell in the air; something earthy which I could not quite discern.

  ‘Whatever’s the matter, Sonny?’ I asked anxiously.

  He stuck his bottom lip out and shook his head as if he couldn’t speak of the matter.

  ‘He’s been pushed about. Had a rough time of it,’ Mistress Midge said indignantly. ‘When he got to our house in Mortlake, that so-called gent’man Mr Kelly seized hold of him and shook him.’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘Not only shook him, but shouted at him and said that they had no intention of using a street urchin to send their valuable messages!’ fumed Mistress Midge. ‘The man’s a venomous varmint! He swore at you and me for thinking up such a scheme and accused the lad of being a common vagabond.’

  ‘And what of Dr Dee?’ I asked. ‘What did he have to say?’

  Mistress Midge indicated that Sonny should answer, and he gave an enormous sniff and wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve before he did so. ‘I didn’t see him, but he sent a message to say that I wasn’t to come there again. He was all the time in the bedchambers. There was summat happening … summat goin’ on but I never found out what.’

  The cook and I looked at each other.

  ‘That’ll be the mistress for sure!’ she said.

  ‘Taken ill again?’ I asked, for Mistress Dee had never been a particularly robust lady.

  ‘Or worse,’ she said darkly.

  ‘What of Merryl and Beth?’ I asked Sonny. ‘Are they all right?’

  Sonny nodded. ‘Well enough. They was busy a-doing things with their tutor and didn’t speak to me much.’

  ‘I’m sure they would have done if they’d had time …’

  ‘No one spoke to me; they just shouted at me. Only the monkey was pleased to see me. An’ … an’ I had to wait an age to get a boat back here, and when I did it was on a barge that held night soil what they fix up to tip on gardens and it stank summat rotten.’

  I sniffed, realising then what the earthy smell was, and Mistress Midge and I exchanged looks of horror.

  ‘Well now,’ said Mistress Midge, patting Sonny on the head but keeping a little distance between them, ‘how would you like some lovely, tasty gingerbread mice to eat, all warm from the oven and frosted with sugar?’

  Sonny brightened up somewhat. ‘I’d like that very much, Missus.’ He looked around forlornly. ‘But how shall I fare now? Where shall I go? Don’t send me back to the horspiddle!’

  I patted his shoulder tentatively. ‘You don’t have to go anywhere at the moment. But as soon as we can, we’ll find a new place for you.’

  ‘Can’t I stay here with you?’

  ‘Maybe not, seeing as Mr Kelly has taken against you,’ I said. ‘But we’ll try and find something close by, so that you can come and see me and Mistress Midge whenever you like.’

  ‘Will you find me somewhere nice?’

  ‘Of course!’ Mistress Midge handed Sonny two gingerbread mice and he managed a smile. ‘And when you’ve eaten, then we’ll start boiling water and you can have a bath.’

  ‘I’ve never had one of those,’ he said, looking somewhat anxious.

  ‘You’ll like it,’ I promised.

  As Sonny ate his gingerbread mice, Mistress Midge spoke in a low voice, ‘For sure the mistress has miscarried the baby. She was not well enough to bear another so soon after little Arthur.’

  ‘Is that what you think?’

  She nodded. ‘That’s the pattern of her life – I have been with her since she was a babe herself, remember? She gives birth safely, then a miscarriage follows. The next time, all will be well.’

  ‘Poor lady,’ I said, wondering how long it would be before she was well enough to travel. ’Twas unkind of me not to wish her a swift return to health, but I knew it would suit me so much better if her recovery was delayed another two weeks or so, for then I’d be able to continue attending the playhouse – and possibly go again to Whitehall Palace.

  ‘How long would a woman take to recover from such a misfortune?’ I asked Mistress Midge.

  She shrugged. ‘It all depends on how well she was to start with. And the mistress has never been strong, we know that.’

  ‘So perhaps two weeks …’

  ‘May
be as long as three,’ she said, ‘although of course there’s nothing to stop Dr Dee and Mr Kelly coming to London on their own.’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said, and began praying fervently that they would not.

  ‘In the meantime,’ said Mistress Midge, ‘what are we to do about the list sent to Dr Dee of all the stuffs we want? What are we supposed to do about getting tradesmen in to fit the house ready for the family?’

  I shrugged, shaking my head to say I had no idea. In truth, I was already more worried about being on stage at the Curtain and wondering what I had let myself in for …

  Chapter Nine

  As if in answer to Mistress Midge’s worries, however, someone pounded on our front door the next afternoon. When I went to open it there stood a messenger – a lanky chap in a tweed doublet – holding a letter.

  ‘I bring an important missive,’ he said, and handed over a folded parchment bearing Dr Dee’s seal. ‘I was instructed by Dr Dee to tell you to go to the scrivener at the sign of the gold quill, who will read it for you.’

  ‘But I …’ I began, and then merely curtseyed, hiding a smile as I did so. In spite of writing to Dr Dee in my own hand – and my unformed and scratchy writing could in no way be compared to the scribing of a scrivener – it was obviously beyond Dr Dee’s comprehension that a humble maid could read or write. ‘I shall do so, Sir, I thank you,’ I said.

  I did not go anywhere, of course, but took the letter straight to Mistress Midge, who, as the senior member of our little household, removed the seal, unfolded it and handed it to me.

  The letter, in Dr Dee’s flowing hand, told us to apply to certain offices in the Strand, where he had appointed an agent, Mr Compton, who would verify any purchases of furniture and also appoint and pay the workmen needed to finish the house. There was no mention of when the family might arrive nor of the condition of Mistress Dee, but of course he wouldn’t think to appraise mere servants of these matters.

  The following morning Mistress Midge put on her best feathered hat and prepared to take herself off to speak with Mr Compton, and I decided to take Sonny along to the Curtain with me. I thought he would add to my credence as a boy – we could be lads together; brothers.