The Lady and the Poet (50 page)

I ran up the stairs, past the startled stares of the yeomen of the dining chamber, my throat closing over and my heart beating so hard it pained my chest. What other than this fury had I looked for in my father when he found the truth? No two men more different could be found on God’s earth than he and my new husband. My father so narrow and restricted in his thought, a lover of things remaining as ever they had been, a firm believer that all should know their place, from the lowest to the highest. How could he not distrust a man like John, the son of an ironmonger, clever, ambitious, with a ready wit and a dangerous reputation, who dared to believe that merit should be rewarded for its own sake?

Once inside I did not wait for my father to come and lock the door but took the key, made of black iron and so heavy it would make a hole in any pocket, and locked the door myself.

I threw myself upon my bed and wept bitterly. Yet not for long. I was not one for weeping, which had no end other than a wetted pillow. Instead I must act. I must get a message to John that thanks to poor Sir John my father now knew all. Our only remaining hope was to show my father that our love was honourable, and that he would make a worthy son-in-law.

This task seemed like that of a mahomedan trying to reach Mecca by walking there from Loseley, yet there was no other choice. Perhaps his master the Lord Keeper would vouch for him. Tomorrow my father would go to London to stir up trouble.

At once I knew I must go before him and warn my husband of the storm that raged around us.

I heard a quiet knocking at the door, too gentle to be my father.

Of my sisters only Mary would dare to defy my father’s edict.

And indeed it was she. I pulled her into the room.

‘What do you do now?’ she whispered. ‘Our father storms like
some miser whose treasure has all been stolen. Nick and Thomas try to calm him, but they are making him madder. Nick’s spendthrift ways are overlooked now there is a savage wolf that has descended on his poor innocent lamb.’

‘God’s blood, I am no weeping virgin. I went to his bed willingly enough.’

‘Not an argument that will placate our father. He would liefer believe Master Donne dishonoured you than that you dishonoured yourself.’

‘Mary, I must go to my husband now and warn him of my father’s intentions.’

‘It is six of the clock on a winter’s night. Are you mad?’

‘I know the way well enough and even you allow I ride better than a man. You must find me some food and water and I will do the rest. Father will leave himself on the morrow and you can say I will neither speak nor eat.’ I smiled at that. ‘A story he will believe, since it has the ring of truth.’

‘Ann, I dare not. Something might befall you.’

‘Unless I can get to John my life is over. He must be warned so that he can ready his defence.’

‘Then send a messenger.’

‘No, I need to see him myself. To stoke our strength for what comes after.’

‘It is the last thing I do for you, Ann.’

‘You have done much already.’ At that I held fast to her as if she were the last tree left standing in a flooded landscape. ‘Thank you, sister.’

She brought me some plain warm clothes an hour later, with a parcel of food stolen from the kitchen. ‘Good luck, and come swiftly back. I cannot keep others from your door for long.’

It was but nine of the clock when I at last crept out, locking the door behind me and hiding the great key in an alcove behind a thick curtain on the staircase.

I knew which horse to take, the best chestnut mare, and saddled her quickly, as I had watched the groom do a thousand times.

I opened the stable gate and led her out. To my great good fortune
a full moon was lighting the sky and I could see my way almost as clear as day. With a swift glance behind me to make sure none witnessed my departure, I began my journey.

God must have been on my side for the rutted way stretched out ahead of me like a shining river, quiet and empty.

Tess the mare and I were old friends and we rode as one.

She only reared once, startled by a fox that ran suddenly into our path, but I soon calmed her, talking to her softly, and calming myself at the same time.

From I know not where came the strength to keep me going hour upon hour, stopping but once to give her water and some oats I had stolen from the stables. By three of the morning we approached the outskirts of London long before day was beginning in that great heaving city. Hiding my face under its borrowed cap, I joined the stream of carts, horses and flocks of cackling geese that crossed London Bridge. It seemed not so long ago that I had done the same on horseback with my father, yet it was two whole years past, two years in which I had passed from childhood to being a woman and now to my strange state of being a secret wife, with none of those dues or comforts which wifedom promised to accord.

Did I regret it, alone in my deepest silent contemplation, that I had taken so grave and dangerous a step, one that I had hidden even from those who loved me?

I had not noticed, so deep was I in thought, that my cloak had blown back from my face, revealing my true nature to the grey, damp morning world. ‘Ho, there, mistress!’ A rough, leering man tried to grab my reins, jerking back poor Tess’s head. ‘What does a pretty maid like you do alone in London town? Looking for trouble, I’ll be bound.’ I felt his hot stinking breath as he tried to pull me from the saddle. ‘I’ll give you trouble, and more…’

At that I spurred Tess on, and she leapt forward, dragging the man with us.

‘Leave the wench alone!’ shouted a bedraggled woman laying out her few paltry wares on the broad pavement. ‘You be no good to any woman, Jeb Smith, least of all a young and comely one!’

He turned at his name and loosened his grip for an instant. It was long enough for me. I drove my horse through the complaining crowd,
my head down and cloak pulled over my face again, until it parted like the Red Sea, mumbling and spitting, but at least giving me road until I was safely across the river.

Heart racing, I turned left and made my way towards my husband’s lodgings, not allowing myself the thought of what I would do were he not within.

To my great relief I came upon Wat, sleeping like a faithful dog on a pallet outside the door.

‘Good morrow, Wat.’ I shook him gently. ‘How is your master? Still asleep?’

Wat sat up, looking troubled. ‘Not good, mistress. He strides about his chamber all night long, never sleeping. And last night I heard him pray out loud, begging God’s forgiveness that he had done wrong, and most of all wronged you, an innocent young maid, by marrying you.’

‘Hush, Wat.’ I knew one thing, that if my husband was thus weakened it would be down to me to steel him for the fight ahead. ‘Go, buy bread and beer and leave it by the door.’ I handed him some coins. ‘I will make it my business to raise your master’s spirits.’

He dropped to one knee and kissed my hand. ‘Mistress Ann, you are as one sent from Heaven.’

I looked rueful at that for I did not think God would bless me at this moment, especially for the means I had in mind of cheering my husband, but I let it pass. ‘Go.’

And, very gently, I opened the door of the chamber.

He was sleeping on his back, one arm flung behind him. His dark hair was spread upon the pillow. Quietly I slipped off my borrowed clothes, shivering at the sudden cold, and climbed onto the bed, pressing my naked flesh against his.

He woke and looked at me, startled. ‘Ann? Is it truly you and not some vicious vision come to taunt me?’

‘Wat thought me an angel sent from God,’ I teased.

He laughed, and taking in my naked state I saw his eyes narrow with desire. ‘I prayed yesterday that I had not wronged you and selfishly led you down a path of my own desiring.’

‘John. Husband. I may be young in years but I know that which I desire also. And it is this. And it is you.’

After that all was obliterated.

All but the feel of his bones on my bones, his skin on my skin, in the true mystical union of bodies and souls, with desire and love mixed equally. And in the white fire of our passion I saw that all his doubts were unfounded, that no matter what trials we had to face, the reward would be worth the struggle.

Yet we had to take action now before others than Master Manners blackened his name still further.

‘You must tell my father of our marriage at once, before others make the disclosure worse. I thought perhaps I could do it, yet I see now that it must be you who tells him yourself, and you must do it honourably, not humbly nor borne down by a sense of guilt, but with an honest face and sincere reasoning.’

He kissed my face, his own lit by a sadness that made me wish to shake him, for whatever happened he must not lose his resolve. ‘I am not sure it will matter in what manner I break the news. He will never accept me as your rightful husband.’

‘Then persuade him! Where is all that strange irresistible art your champions talk of?’

‘That is in my verse.’

‘Then put it also in your face and conversation. Charm him! Show him you are well regarded by your peers and your masters alike!’

‘Ann, Ann, would that I had your youthful optimism!’

I hit him with the pillow at that. ‘Cease! Stop talking as if you were an old man when you are but nine and twenty!’ The light was shining brightly through the windows now and I must get up and go or I would make things the worse for us by the discovery I had come to visit him.

I jumped from the bed and dressed at speed, helped by the cold air nipping at my naked flesh. The bed, our rightful home, had never looked so inviting.

‘Farewell, husband. Promise me that you will come soon. It will be for the best, I know, that he hears it from your lips instead of those of snakelike traitors and evil wishers who care not a jot for our happiness and would like to see you brought down and trodden underfoot. Goodbye.’

I gently stirred Wat, sleeping again outside, and bade him also farewell. With the great intelligence he always showed he had fed and watered my mare and she was ready to go.

And go, we did. Wat had bade me cross with her by water, and though she shied at first, being led into the small craft, she afterwards stood straight and proud. We alighted on the south side, gaining half an hour at least, and since I now had brought bread and a flask of small beer, we continued down the grey-streaked road stopping only once for rest, and by ten of the clock had reached the outskirts of the town of Guildford, which my father represented in Parliament. Here I kept my head well down, lest my face be known, and cantered on across country until I gained the quietest entry to our land. At last I dismounted, and not wanting to risk taking Tess to the stables, instead left her tethered to a tree from which I would untie her later, when all were busy at the midday meal.

Now all I had to do was get myself once more back into the house unrecognized, and pray that my disappearance had been well hidden by that consummate actress, my sister Mary.

I scuttled like a mouse to the side door and thence down the kitchen passage, wishing with my whole heart that my father stood not so on his ceremony, and employed not fifty servants but five. For each time I stopped, hiding in some darkened nook, I heard the laughter or chatter of more of my father’s men. It took me all of twenty minutes to safely gain my chamber, where I tore off my sweat-soaked clothing and quickly dressed in my proper attire, just as the bell sounded for dinner. Still banished to my chamber, I of course would not be joining them.

And then a surprising thing. A knock, and Frances stood at the door, smiling as if she were the bearer of a message twixt God and his creations. ‘Father has found no further evidence of your forbidden marriage. He says you may join us at the table.’

My heart raced like the bellows at this news. For I knew all too well the truth of the matter.

Indeed my stepmother Constance told me with surprise that I looked well today and that my eyes were unusually bright.

‘And your cheeks uncommon red for one who has spent so long confined to her chamber,’ Mary added, one dark eyebrow raised in my direction.

‘Ann,’ my father’s tone bore a humility I had rarely heard before, so unexpected it pained me exceedingly, ‘sit down. I have an apology to
make to you. I have sent a message to the Lord Keeper himself on this matter and he denies it.’

At this I felt as if a piece of jagged glass ripped at my heart. Surely I could hide my secret no longer? ‘Father, speak not so, it is I who must ask your humble apology.’ I spurred myself on to tell him the whole truth. ‘For you see…’

‘Ann, will you so soon spoil my good opinion of you? Be seated!’

After that, all I could do was wait for my husband’s arrival and the axe to fall. Which happened three days later. Yet not at all in the manner I expected.

EACH MORNING AS
I waited for the storm to break I knelt and said my prayers, beseeching the Lord to help us, while my conscience asked if we had not committed too great sin to ask for His assistance. After I prayed I sat up on the window seat of my chamber watching for the moment my husband would appear.