Kathryn Kramer (18 page)

Most actors were musically inclined and
could play instruments. During the scene with Oberon and Titania the king and queen of the fairies played upon their instruments to add a sense of atmosphere.  As he took his place on stage, Nicholas was all thumbs, his singing voice as melodious as a croaking frog, yet he managed to fit in amongst the actors reasonably well. As the play unfolded, his nervousness evaporated.

He did in fact become a bit too sure of himself as the play progressed, a
nd that quickly brought about his downfall. He forgot a line and the hooting and booing from the groundlings did not help him regain his composure. Nor did  the gratuitous contribution of several apple cores thrown upon the stage assist his memory.  In fact his loss of temper nearly made him lose all reason entirely.  How dare they!

"Lysander!  Speak again, thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?"  Alandra's oh so welcome
voice called forth the line and Nicholas quickly repeated it, his memory restored at least for the moment.

Then Nicholas choked on another important line., when Morgana blew him a kiss from the gallery as he looked her way.
He felt of a certainty now that she knew him and could not help wondering if she would reveal his identity to Lord Burghley despite the danger to her.  Only by the greatest of self-discipline was he able to put aside his worry and speak his closing lines of the play.

Bowing low before the crowd
, the actors received their applause. When Nicholas raised his head to look at Morgana one last time, he was unnerved to see that she and Lord Burghley were no longer in their seats.

As he stood with the other actors near the stage, he learned of the
invitation extended to the actors to sup with the aging Queen's councilor and the newly widowed lady.  Somehow the summons boded ill, and he could not help but wonder if he were walking into another trap.  Or perhaps Morgana again had it in mind to run away to Scotland with him.  Would he go now that she was free?  Immediately he answered no as his eyes beheld the smiling countenance of an impishly pretty dark-haired, dark-eyed petite young woman running over towards him.

"Christopher, y
ou did in fact surpass all my expectations!"  For the moment Alandra was caught up in the actors’ jovial mood. “With the exception of a few muffled lines, that is.”

"Which you nonetheless spoke out very clearly when all was said and done,” Murray said, steadfast in his loyalty and thus overlooking Nicholas’s many flaws. “I am most proud of you.”

It was difficult for Alandra to pretend feelings which were at odds with her true emotions,  but she gave it her very best try.
Without  his knowing it, Christopher was being tested tonight. If he came to her room, then he was most likely innocent. If he went running off to meet Morgana Woodcliff, then there was a good chance that he was not. It was as simple as that in her mind.

Without a thought to the actors standing about
, she threw her arms around him  In that moment Nicholas forgot all about Morgana as he basked in the warmth and glow of Alandra's affection and praise.  Was there any woman like her.  Curious as a cat, mischievous as a monkey, graceful as a swan, as unpredictable as any woman could be.  She tugged at a corner of his heart.

How could he tell her no when she asked h
im to dine with her in her room for a quiet celebration?  Just the two of them. The little minx had saved his hide, not once but several times.  And if she had forgotten to prompt him on some lines tonight, he brushed it off as being due to the excitement  of the first night’s performance. Nicholas could not help thinking that perhaps her room would be the safest place for him, at least until he discovered  what Morgana was up to. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he followed the others into the inn.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Alandra couldn’t have been more apprehensive than if she had an appointment with
the hangman. The time had come for her to reveal to Shakespeare what she knew about the man masquerading among them. Worse yet, she would have to tell him that she knew all along that Christopher Nicholas was an imposter. She had known, and yet blatantly gone along with the lie and in so doing had risked the theater company’s well-being. Betraying Will’s friendship, she had entered into a deceit nearly as abominable as Christopher’s.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on Will’s door. He opened it immediately, and she could tell from the expression on his face that he had been expecting her.

“Come in, Alandra.” Though he seemed in a remarkably pleasant mood considering Christopher’s flawed performance, his eyes were hard. “I was expecting you.”

Alandra wished that she could
read Shakespeare’s mind. Usually, the playwright had mobile, flexible features perfect for acting and eyes that revealed his emotions, but he was maintaining complete control of his expressions so that his thoughts were unreadable now.

“I…I have something to tell you, Wi
ll. Something  I should have told you before.” Alandra swallowed hard. Being with the players was the only life she had ever known. Now, if that was his decision, Shakespeare could cast her out with but a word.

“About your friend, Christopher Nicholas.” He poured her a small glass of whiskey. “I think you might need this.”

She refused at first, but suddenly needing fortification, put her hands on the glass and guided it to her mouth. She swallowed once and choked on the harsh, fiery liquor.

Shakespeare shook his head. “Ah, Alandra. Alandra…..”

Alandra caught her breath;, staring as he filled a glass for himself. “He’s n…n..not who he says he…he is….” She stammered, making her confession.

“Aye, I know! He all to
o soon gave himself away.”

The eyes watching her were unreadable, yet  at least he didn’t show anger.

“You know?” She was startled by his revelation.

“And have for some time.”
His expression was carefully controlled.

“But you didn’t say a thing!” Alandra thought
to herself that she should have known a man like Will, one with such deep roots in the theater, couldn’t be tricked into believing Christopher Nicholas’s story.

‘I didn’
t” say anything because I wanted to see just what he was about. I was curious as to why he would pretend to be something that he wasn’t.” He took a drink of his whiskey in long, measured gulps.

“You thought it was some kind of game….” Alandra cast her eyes down to her shoes.
Will had known, but never supposed it was as serious a matter as it was.

“He did not rescue you, did he , Alandra?

“No!”

“I thought not. Would you care to te
ll me the real story? I have a feeling that you are fairly bursting to talk to someone.” He settled his thin, long-legged frame into a chair.

“He took your horse, Will. Stole it! I followed after him. It is as simple a tale as that.” She frowned as she relate
d the story of their clamorous late-night meeting, of his determination to take her with him, of his near capture in Bodiam, and their clever ruse to escape the borders of that town.

“At first I was little more than his prisoner, but later on when he was in the direst trouble, I helped him of my own free will
. I had come to believe his story, and that he might be innocent you see. And I had to save him. I could not let him be imprisoned for a crime he said he did not commit!”

“And just what was that crime, Alandra? I have a feeling it was something that cannot be easily righted.” His eyes entreated her to confide in him.

There had never been any secrets between Alandra and Will. Since she was a little girl she had told him everything and he had given her his advice. She would have trusted him with her life. How then had she so woefully betrayed him?

Reaching inside her bodice, Alandra retrieved the handbill she had purposefully tucked away again.
She placed it in Shakespeare’s hand. “This will tell you all. Christopher Nicholas is Sir Nicholas Leighton, wanted by the queen and God knows who else for the murder of Lord Woodcliff, one of Elizabeth’s advisors.”

Shakespeare’s eyebrows shot up as he read the broadside. “I sensed him to be a fugitive, but not anything like this!”

“I was suspicious of him, right from the first. I saw him at court, you see, and knew him to be a nobleman. I tried to tell my father but for some reason he refused to believe me. He likes Christopher.”

“And
Murray is at heart a kind old soul.”

“Father and I were at the inn. In trying to get away from Lord Stafford’s men, Christopher, or Nicholas, hid out in our play wagon. I hit him
over the head, and when he woke up, he said he was an actor.” She laughed bitterly. “Actor. Ha! He proved today that he is not.”

Will crossed his legs. “Actuall
y, his voice is of a soothing timbre, his pronunciation sharp and well defined. Being a nobleman, he has been gifted with a certain grace of movement and stately carriage. Were we to teach him how to make use of these attributes…”

“Will! He’s wanted for murder!” Surely Shakespeare wasn’t saying he could stay. Besides, Alandra didn’t want him to. Not now. Not after seeing that Woodcliff woman!

Shakespeare pulled at his gold earring. “So he is!” His eyebrows furled. “And that does make it a more serious matter.”

Alandra’s tone was scornful. “I b
elieved him. I believed him when he said he might have killed that old man in the heat of combat because I wanted to believe him.”

Will studied the broadside intently again. “And how do you know that he wasn’t telling the truth?”

“Because…because…that…that woman was here in the audience tonight. Lord Woodcliff’s wife, the one Christopher was having an affair with. It was the scandal of the court!” She couldn’t keep the jealousy out of her voice. “No doubt they were co-conspirators and plan to fly off together.”

“Ah, so I see. Because she is here, you suddenly choose to see Christopher as a villain. But what if he is not? Then you greatly wrong him.”

Clutching her hand to her breast, she closed her eyes. “Oh, how I wish I knew for sure! The uncertainty is tearing me apart. There are times when I truly think him innocent and again times when something in his look makes me doubt it.”Alandra knew that she could fool anyone in the world, but not him. He could read her feelings for Christopher like an open book.

“Do you care so very much for him?
” Will’s piercing eyes bored into hers.

“I do. Fool that I am. But how can I care for a man who would do such a thing to another?”

“Even the greatest scoundrels have those who love them.”  Shakespeare shrugged. “Besides, things are not always what they seem, Alandra. .” The gallows are full of men who are innocent.”

“
But he may not be…!” But even now she wished with all her heart that he was. Even if he ran away with that woman, she didn’t want to see him executed for murder. Not Christopher.

“This broadside declares him to be a nobleman, Alandra. That changes a great many things.” His voice was soft. “I have no need to ask if you love him. Your eyes tell the tale.”

“Oh, Will! I lost my heart when he kissed me.” Twisting and turning her sleeve, Alandra unconsciously tied it into a knot. Realizing her mistake, she hurried to undo her mischief. “But what does it matter? After today, knowing what you know…”

Though
Will usually nourished her fantasies, his voice was stern now. “I will not lie to you. His traveling among us is risky. And were I to find out that he has done what is proclaimed, I would not hesitated to turn him in. But somehow my instinct--and I believe that I know people well—is that there is more to the matter of Lord Woodcliff than is being spoken. And if there is the slightest chance that Christopher is innocent, I would move heaven and earth to help him.”

“But the queen!”

“Would likewise want to know the truth. I have no fear of her. She is basically kind and merciful and mingles tenderness with her blows.”

Alandra could hardly believe her ears. Here she had been so certain that Will would be furious and now he was saying that he would shield Christopher.

“But as to your affections, I would not see you risk a broken heart. Mine was broken once long ago and I still feel the pain.” He reached up and touched his chest as if something inside tormented him. “Be careful, Alandra. I am certain he is a gentleman, that he would have no intent of hurting you, but the lords and ladies of the realm can often be like selfish children, playing with hearts as if they were toys, then cruelly casting them aside.”

“I know.” Alandra sighed. “I’ve told my
self a hundred times just what you speak of, but every time we are together, my heart outwits my head and I find myself longing for his touch. I want to taste of paradise, if only once.”

“As did I once….” S
adly, he shook his head. “But as to the matter of your young man, what are we to do?”

“I’ve invited him to dine with me tonight, to test him you see.” Ang
rily, she stamped her foot.  “Oh, I hate feeling so confused. Perhaps I would be better off if he did run away with her, then at least I would be quit of him.”

“And be of little use to use because of your pining.” Shakespeare tugged a lock of her hair. “I wish I had fairy magic to aid you. Were I Oberon, I would bid Puck to sprinkle magic flower juice in yon lord’s eyes so that he would return your love.” He paused, adding hopefully. “But perhaps after all such artifice will not be needed. You are delightfully pleasing to the eye, Alandra. If given the chance, perhaps true love will come about and you will find him to be the perfect prince you at first thought he was. Then you will have your handsome nobleman.”

Alandra had been taught to believe in happy endings, and Shakespeare nearly made her believe that her handsome nobleman would have his good name restored, would return to his castle in Bodiam and would take her with him. It had to happen that way, she told herself. All her dreams had to come true.

She sat on the arm of her chair as she and Will conspired.