He went on. “When I brought you back, even though I was so taken with you, you were a means to an end. I had to prevent something from happening, and I had no clear idea of how to do it. I apologize to you, Miranda, for using you cruelly.”
“You mean wanting me to seduce Shakespeare?”
He winced. “I am ashamed of what I asked of you. It was not the act of a gentleman.”
“You’ve already apologized. Remember? And I’m sorry for being so … difficult. I have mellowed a little, haven’t I?”
“Indeed, you are all goodness now.”
I smacked his chest playfully, and he caught hold of my wrist. “Now, sweet, ’tis time.”
“Stephen, no.” I could feel love pulsing up through me, making my eyes shine with it.
He pulled me close and we clung to each other for a moment, shutting out the world, both our worlds. Brushing my lips gently, he clasped my hand and led me toward the tower. “You must climb to the top,” Stephen said.
Clutching my backpack, I jolted to a stop. “Wait! Do you have the astrolabe? Are you sure you know what you’re doing? I’m not going to end up in a harem in Constantinople, or on the Mayflower or something, am I?”
“Be assured, I have everything I need. I know what I am about.”
I swallowed hard as he backed away from me. “What should I do when I get to the top?”
“Nothing. I will take care of … the rest. Look out over this English countryside so that you’ll remember it always. And one thing more. I had the pendant inscribed for you. Read it.”
I fumbled for it, but Stephen stopped me, shaking his head. “Not now. Do not read it until you are at the top.”
“All right,” I agreed, despite my overwhelming curiosity. I reached out for him once more, our fingers barely connecting as he moved farther away. Clutching my backpack, I dragged in a ragged breath and began climbing the narrow stone stairs, a shiver of fear shooting through me. Once at the top, I did as Stephen said. I whirled around, marking the countryside in my memory. The slant of the sunlight on undulating fields and flowering bushes. The gentle swell of the land, reaching up to meet a serene sky.
Dizziness rose up, and I grabbed hold of the iron railing surrounding me. I sensed an imperceptible shift, and my hands and feet began to tingle. Desperately, I raised the pendant and read the inscription.
Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing .…
At the last moment I screamed. “Stephen!”
And was gone.
Boston, Present Day
STRUGGLING UP FROM THE DEPTHS OF SLEEP, I opened my eyes and squinted at the sunlight streaming into my room. I lost the struggle, rolled over, and sank back into oblivion.
Later, my cell phone woke me. Not moving from my prone position, I twisted my neck until I spotted my backpack near the bed. I stretched out an arm and grabbed it. By the time I’d unzipped the right compartment, the ringing had stopped. I hadn’t really wanted to answer it anyway.
I flopped back down, only then noticing I’d slept in my clothes. The full realization of parting from Stephen was beginning to catch up with me. I was home, in Boston, feeling profoundly depressed. I vaguely remembered standing in the street near the Dennis School sometime during morning rush hour, seemingly only minutes after leaving Stephen. Everything had seemed out of sync. I hailed a cab, the sound and speed of the cars scaring me. The concrete sidewalk and asphalt streets felt unwelcoming beneath my feet. Intense exhaustion had overtaken me, along with a stupefying awareness of the time shift. After barely making it through the front door of our home, I’d gone to my room, thrown myself on the bed, and fallen asleep.
Why had I let myself be talked into leaving him? You agreed to this, Miranda. Remember? You weren’t talked into anything. A sound, something like a moan of agony, burst out of me.
I resisted the urge to sink back into sleep, and instead sat up and tugged my boots off. Then I padded over to my desk and started up my laptop. I wanted to see what date and day it was. When the desktop came up, the bar across the top told me it was Saturday, March 22, 1:11 p.m. So Stephen had been right; I’d only lost a few hours. I had a performance tonight. I raked my hair with both hands, trying not to freak out. Was I really home? It seemed impossible.
I found my cell phone and checked to see who the missed call was from. I listened to the message. “Miranda, it’s your grandfather.” As if that voice could belong to anyone else. “I know you must have had a late night, but check in with us when you’re feeling human again.” If he only knew the truth …
Until I’d had a shower, I wouldn’t feel human again. Flipping on the bathroom light, I recoiled from its glare. I’d have to readjust to the brightness of artificial light. Candlelight was soft, and so forgiving. Looking at myself in the harsh glow of modern lighting, I sensed that I looked different in some way. More grown-up. I turned the shower on and stripped, and it wasn’t until then that I remembered the necklace. My body heat had warmed it. The thin red ribbon curved around my neck, the oval resting just above my breasts. I unknotted the ribbon, flipped the pendant over, and read the inscription once again, even though I had committed it to memory: Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing. Did Stephen really believe that?
The sting of the hot water spiking from the showerhead seemed almost like an invasion of my body. And in a way, a betrayal. I was washing off all traces of my time with Stephen. I tilted my head back and let the water pour over my hair and face. Hot tears joined with the streaming water, and I allowed myself a bout of uncontrolled weeping.
I dressed—fresh, soft clothes felt wonderful against my skin, no denying it—and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. As I waited for it to brew, I fingered the pendant and thought about the inscription. If I had to guess, I’d say it was the first line of one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. I’d have the rest of my life to work it out. Right now, I simply wanted to treasure it.
After pouring a cup of coffee, I carried it to the kitchen table, where I had an expansive view of the backyard. Daffodils and tulips bloomed profusely all around the boundaries of the yard. The grass was greening, and the crab apple trees showed off their gorgeous pink blossoms. I slid open the patio door and stepped outside. It was a mild day, perfect for a run. I’d call my grandfather afterward.
I went for that run, took a second shower, and made the call. Tears flooded my eyes when I heard my grandfather’s voice. “Hi, Gramps!” It seemed like so long since I’d talked to him.
“Miranda, my dear. Glad to hear you’re among the living.” I loved that he had such old-fashioned manners and called me pet names like “my dear.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked. Not too obvious, but definitely worried about whether I was obsessing over last night’s performance.
“I’ve thought things over today, and I think I have a better grasp of Katherine.”
“Good. She was ‘young and beauteous / Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman.’ Don’t forget that. Katherine was a gentlewoman before she became known as a shrew.”
“There are great subtleties in her character. I understand that now.” Now that I’ve had a month or so to think it over.
“Believe in yourself, child. You have the inner strength to get it right.”
“Thanks, Gramps. You’re the best.”
He chuckled. “One more thing. I didn’t know whether I should tell you or not, because they wanted to surprise you, but your mother and father will be in the audience tonight. I thought it would be too great a shock if you happened to spy them in the middle of a big speech.”
“What? But they’re in Rome … aren’t they?”
“They’re flying home to see you play Katherine.”
I bit down hard on my lip, feeling as if I’d been sucker punched.
“I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I pulled in a long breath. “No, you’re absolutely right, Gramps. I would have frozen if I’d seen them, probably forgotten my lines. I
’m glad you told me. I’ll do my best to act surprised.”
“Break a leg tonight, my dear.”
“Are you okay?” Macy asked as I stepped into the dressing room and threw down my backpack. She was already wearing her Bianca dress.
I smiled. “I’m fine. Thanks for worrying about me.” I gave her a hug, and when I stepped back, I could see the surprise in her eyes. I was normally not given to hugging. “How was the party?”
“Great, except everybody missed you and kept asking me where you were. John was bummed. Finley was afraid you were sick and Bridget would have to play Katherine.”
“She’d do okay.” I laughed when Macy winced. “I’m feeling better about everything, Mace.”
Her face lit up. “Good! I’m so relieved.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “You better get dressed. It’s only an hour till curtain.”
“I will. One more thing, though. I wanted to tell you how great you were last night. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything afterward. You were enchanting as Bianca, just the way she’s supposed to be.”
She couldn’t hold back a huge grin. “Don’t worry about it. You were … upset.”
I carried my things to the bench in front of the row of cupboards and grabbed my first gown off the rack. Someone, bless their organized heart, had carefully rearranged all the costumes in the correct order.
Before driving over here, I’d rummaged through my mother’s jewelry box and found a silver chain that matched the pendant perfectly. My dress was cut low, and I debated whether or not to leave the pendant on. But in my heart, I knew there was no way I was walking out on that stage without it. Macy came over and fastened me up the back. When I turned around, she gasped.
“What is that? It’s gorgeous!” She moved her hand as if to touch the pendant, and I spun around, pretending I needed something from my pack.
“Just a piece of costume jewelry. I thought it might be fun to wear it for the performances.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like costume jewelry. It looks authentic. Are you sure that’s not a real sapphire? And those pearls—they’re not the weird color of fake ones.”
“I’m sure, but thank you. Good to know it looks all right.”
“Oh, before I forget, Steve Langford hasn’t shown up. He didn’t even call—can you believe that? Jake Ryan is playing Lucentio.”
I plunked down on the bench, the breath rushing out of me. Of course Stephen wouldn’t be here for the performance! If Macy hadn’t reminded me, I might have totally lost it when I first saw Jake.
Katherine isn’t in Act I, so after the curtain went up, I had some time alone to compose myself. I thought about my mom and dad changing their plans and flying home just to see me. A miracle. I was sure they’d have to fly right back. It was a major sacrifice, one I would never have expected them to make. Long flights were definitely tough on actors. However it had come about, I was happy they were here.
I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and summoned the spirit of Will Shakespeare. Then I gathered up the tangled strands of Katherine’s character and weaved them together. All that I’d learned, both in the present and in the past, began to meld. Gramps was right about her—she was raised as a gentlewoman. In some respects she was similar to Jennet, forced to do her father’s bidding. And then, ironically, Petruchio’s. In the end, Katherine’s newfound passion, purpose, and serenity began to surface, allowing her to be at peace.
A sense of calm washed over me. I felt much more prepared and much less nervous than I had on opening night.
“Miranda?” It was Derek, Mr. Finley’s assistant. “Time to get in position. The first act is almost over.”
“Thanks, Derek. I’m coming.”
I joined Bianca onstage to begin the second act. With every line, I felt a new confidence. I allowed the language, rhythm, and meter to control my speech and my interpretation of Katherine. I wanted her love for Petruchio to shine from within. In the end, with her “advice to the wives” speech, I let the audience decide if she was being irreverent and ironic, or subdued and obedient. Perhaps something in between.
When we took our bows, the applause overwhelmed me. Cries of “Brava” shook the house. It seemed unreal. I’d never experienced anything like it. When I looked out at the audience, I glimpsed my mom and dad, on their feet with everybody else.
The curtain came down and the cast surrounded me, patting me on the back, hugging me, telling me how wonderful I’d been. When I tried to congratulate them, my voice was drowned out. Mr. Finley actually grabbed me by the shoulders and said, “Brilliant!” I laughed, feeling almost giddy. And then I spotted my mother and father making their way toward me. “Excuse me,” I said quickly, and ran to meet them.
My dad caught me up in a big hug. “Oh, Miranda, you were magnificent. Never has there been a truer Katherine.”
“I can’t believe you came all the way from Rome, but I’m so happy you did.”
He let me go, and there stood my mother, eyeing me with an odd expression on her face. Her beautiful dark hair looked ruffled from her travels, but her eyes were bright. With tears, I realized. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “I am so proud of you, darling. You made Katherine come alive. You own the role, now and forever.”
Wow. I’d never heard such high praise for anyone from my mother.
Then she pulled me against her and hugged me tightly.
“Now, dear, I do have a few suggestions for you.…” I looked at Dad, and he rolled his eyes. I choked back a laugh.
“I’m sure you do, Mom. Come back to the dressing room with me. The cast will want to say hello.”
It seemed like hours before everyone left. I’d convinced my family to allow me a little time alone, but I was due at home for a celebration within an hour. Stretching it out for as long as possible, I removed my makeup, changed, and cleaned up. When I finished and there was nothing left to do, I stood utterly still and listened. Maybe I’d hear Stephen’s voice, or his footsteps. For a brief moment, I wondered if I’d dreamed him.
After a while, I sank down on the bench and reached for my pendant. I rubbed my thumb over the surface, tracing the facets of the sapphire and the roundness of the pearls. Then my fingers brushed over the inscription. Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing. I knew he wasn’t coming. I rose, reached for my backpack, and flipped out the lights.
“I will see you again someday, Stephen.” I will see you again .…
FROM WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE’S BIRTH in 1564 to his arrival in London around 1590, no diaries or letters related to his personal life exist. Shakespeare scholars often refer to this period as “the lost years.” Other than the records of his baptism, marriage, and the births of his children, there are only a few inconclusive hints upon which to build a picture of his life.
One of the more intriguing theories about Shakespeare’s youth places him in northern England, serving as a schoolmaster. John Aubrey, in a seventeenth-century work called Brief Lives, was the first to make this assertion, which has been mentioned as an acceptable theory in many of the major biographies of Shakespeare since. There is some circumstantial evidence that Shakespeare’s father, once prosperous, was struggling financially at that time, and a university degree for his oldest son would have been out of the question. It makes sense that Will would have sought employment, especially if he lacked enthusiasm for his father’s trade as a glove maker. The family of John Cottom, one of Shakespeare’s schoolmasters in Stratford, lived near the Hoghtons in Lancashire. If asked, Cottom might have recommended Will for the post of private schoolmaster at Hoghton Tower.
A potential clue has been found in the will of Alexander Hoghton, the man who may have employed Shakespeare in 1581. Hoghton asked his neighbor and relative, Sir Thomas Hesketh, to be friendly to “William Shakeshafte nowe dwellynge with me.” Although it is not universally accepted that William Shakeshafte is Shakespeare, some scholars believe they are the same person.
A number of experts think Shakespeare had a means of con
tinuing his studies. If he didn’t attend university, he almost certainly had access to a great library. The collection at Hoghton Tower would have fueled his intellect and imagination and helped fill in some of the gaps in his education.
About Edmund Campion, a renowned Jesuit priest of the time, we know more. By all accounts, he was a man of keen intellect, sharp wit, and great personal charm. He was educated at Oxford University and, after joining the Society of Jesus in Rome, returned to England in 1580 disguised as a merchant. At the time Kissing Shakespeare takes place, he was working on a document called “Ten Reasons,” in which he denounced Protestantism, proclaiming Catholicism the one true religion, and addressed Queen Elizabeth personally, exhorting her to renounce the new Church of England. Printed in secret, the small volume was brazenly placed on the benches at Oxford University’s Church of St. Mary before Commencement in 1581.
Ultimately tracked down by Francis Walsingham’s spy network, Edmund Campion was arrested in July of 1581 and sent to the Tower of London. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death as a traitor. Executed on December 1 of the same year, at the age of forty-one, he is considered to be a martyr by the Catholic Church. Campion was canonized in 1970 by Pope Paul VI.
Alexander Hoghton died in August of 1581, around the time of Campion’s arrest. His heirs continue to reside at Hoghton Tower, an Elizabethan manor house open to the public. It is near the city of Preston.
And the young Will Shakespeare? By the age of eighteen, he was living in Stratford, his birthplace, and married to Anne Hathaway, with whom he had three children. Eventually he made his way to London, where he was an actor in the theater companies for which he wrote his plays. In 1613, he retired to Stratford and died there in 1616, at the age of fifty-two.
Shakespeare remains the most celebrated writer in the English language.
Kissing Shakespeare Page 27