Rory Clements - The Heretics

‘Come now, Mr Shakespeare. Anything spoken within these four walls is safe with us.’ It was Emilia Lanier who spoke. ‘Do we look the sort of ladies to spread tittle-tattle?’

Indeed, they did. Shakespeare smiled.

‘You know, Mr Shakespeare, you need spare us nothing. We will not swoon at some horror you tell us, nor will our little minds be befuddled by matters of high politics, the sciences or exploration.’ Lady Susan looked to her friends for approval.

‘Do indulge us, Mr Shakespeare,’ Lady Trevail said. ‘We gather here to discuss matters of great weight. . and mutterings of no import whatsoever. It would be such a diversion to hear a little of the world of intelligencing.’

‘But you must know I am sworn to secrecy, madam.’

The Countess of Cumberland, on the settle, put a hand to her mouth and made a noise like a chicken clucking, which was evidently laughter. ‘Oh, Mr Shakespeare, please,’ she said. ‘It amuses us to call ourselves the School of Day. Is that not droll?’

Lady Susan took Shakespeare’s arm. ‘Come, sir, you need have no fear of us. We are as able as any man on the Queen’s Council to discuss great matters of state. Why, we were just talking of the succession. Who do you think should succeed to the throne when Her Royal Majesty finally succumbs to time’s fell hand, as, certain, one day she must?’

‘I have no opinion on such matters.’

‘Oh, come, come, Mr Shakespeare. No one talks of anything else these days. You must know that this book late out of the Low Countries, Father Persons’s Conference about the Next Succession to the Crown of England , is spoken of in every great house in London. It is said he favours the Spanish infanta.’

‘Well, I would favour almost any man or woman above the wormlike little Scotch king,’ Lady Trevail said. ‘Even the monstrous Arbella Stuart who thinks herself a queen already would be preferable, for she must at least be pliable. Such a shame poor Ferdinando of Derby was not more careful about his venomous diet. He would have made a magnificent king of England, if a little proud.’

‘And a little too Romish, perhaps?’ Lady Susan said. ‘Or what of my lord of Essex? Now there is a man with the stomach and bearing of a monarch. Nor must we forget the charming infanta. Father Persons assures us that young Isabella is of John of Gaunt’s lineage.’

‘And she keeps a dwarf,’ the Countess of Cumberland said, adding with mischief, ‘just as our own beloved Elizabeth does.’

Shakespeare looked at her sharply and saw the glint in her eye. He was well aware that ‘Elizabeth’s dwarf’ was meant to be Sir Robert Cecil. This was dangerous talk. If it was intended to provoke him to discomfort, they were succeeding in their aim. So he was providing the ladies with their day’s mirth, but they would do well to be more circumspect; there were many ears in England. The Queen had never been amused by discussions about her throne and crown, and she especially disliked to hear of the merits of Spanish claimants.

‘Do you think it wise to talk of such things?’ he asked politely.

‘Are you afraid of losing your head, Mr Shakespeare?’ Lady Trevail said. ‘I had heard you were a brave man.’

Their eyes met and held. ‘I do believe that courage without caution is foolhardiness.’

Lady Trevail clapped her delicately gloved hands.

‘Mr Shakespeare,’ Lady Susan said. ‘I have no idea why you are here, but you are very welcome. At least take a sip of sack with us, for we would love to prise some secrets from you. Do you know all my friends?’

‘Indeed, I have met Mistress Lanier and I recognise the ladies Trevail and Cumberland from court.’

‘The young lady by the fire, who seems to be in a tobacco-induced dream, is Miss Beatrice Eastley, my young companion and protegee. Now then, Mr Shakespeare, be good enough to tell us why you are here.’

Shakespeare had little time. If Lady Susan would not see him alone, then so be it.

‘Very well, my lady, let me be direct with you. I believe that some years ago, the year 1586 to be precise, you took into your household a young woman named Thomasyn Jade.’

The woman on the floor looked up and removed the pipe as though she would say something. Meanwhile, a frown of puzzlement crossed Lady Susan’s brow, then her lips parted in surprise. ‘Thomasyn?’

‘You recall her?’

‘Of course, Mr Shakespeare, how could I not? Do you know where she is?’

Shakespeare shook his head. All eyes were fixed on him as though he were a bear in the ring. ‘I am afraid not, my lady. But I am looking for her. I had hoped you might be able to help me in this quest.’

‘Thomasyn Jade,’ Lady Trevail said, emphasising every syllable. ‘Wasn’t she the-’

‘Yes, Lucia, she was the poor young girl who was subjected to such horrible torments by those egregious priests. The things they did to her were beyond hideous.’ Lady Susan turned to Shakespeare. ‘But pray tell me, why are you looking for her now? Do you believe her alive? To speak true, I feared that, in her insanity, she had run away with intent to destroy herself.’

‘I regret I have no idea whether she is alive or dead.’

‘But why are you looking for her, Mr Shakespeare?’ Lady Trevail said. ‘What interest can Sir Robert’s chief intelligencer have in her?’

‘I cannot say. Did you meet the girl, Lady Trevail?’

‘Indeed, I did. And felt deeply for the poor thing.’

His eyes scanned the assembled ladies. ‘Do any of you know where she might have gone?’

‘I had believed her to come from Buckinghamshire, Sir George Peckham’s seat,’ Lady Susan said. ‘For that was where these rituals took place. But, Mr Shakespeare, this is most unusual and mysterious. Can you not give us a little notion of the reason for this strange visit?’

‘No, my lady.’

‘But it is clearly important to you and Sir Robert.’

‘Indeed, it is.’

The countess sighed. ‘I have thought about her often and would dearly love to discover what became of her. Mr Shakespeare, I shall do all I can to help.’

‘We will all do what we can,’ Lady Trevail said, to approving glances and nods from the Countess of Cumberland and Emilia Lanier. Only the girl by the fire, Beatrice, did not respond, nor even seem interested.

Shakespeare bowed again. ‘Thank you. In which case, Lady Susan, I would be grateful to hear all that you remember of her. Whom she met, whom she talked with.’

‘She was not well, physically or in the mind. I offered her sanctuary, for she needed a safe and loving home to recover from her torments.’

A maidservant came in with a tray bearing wine and a goblet for Shakespeare. He took it with gratitude and sipped the wine, which was sweet and smooth.

‘She was with us a week,’ Lady Susan continued. ‘I did not have her brought here as a servant, but as a pupil, just as I educated my friend Mistress Lanier here in her youth.’ She nodded towards Emilia. ‘It is the correct way, Mr Shakespeare. Girls need education as much as boys. Is not Elizabeth herself among the greatest scholars in the land?’

‘Indeed, my lady, I do not need convincing. My own daughters are taught to a high degree.’

‘Thomasyn had endured a great ordeal. But after four or five days, I truly believed that she was settling here and becoming more tranquil and serene. I thought she would fit very well into our household and that we would make a fine young lady of her, for she had wit enough.’

‘But something happened?’

The countess gave a sad smile. She was remarkably well kept for her forty years and there was kindness in her eyes. Shakespeare wondered why Thomasyn Jade had wanted to leave such a welcoming home.