The Rogue's Princess (18 page)

Mercy almost knocked the jug flying again as she started, but Tobias caught it and carefully set it on a side table.

‘I think I’d better put this out of harm’s way,’ he said, obviously amused by her discomposure.

‘I haven’t done anything to Kit,’ Mercy replied when he turned back to her.

‘Oh, but you have. He’s a different brother – much more like the earl here, and my brother James if you knew him. He’s suddenly got a passion for making a future for himself; until you entered the scene, he was all about living for the day.’ He leant closer. ‘I won’t tell him this, but I think you’ve been a good influence.’

It came then to Mercy that Kit had been right yesterday, but she hadn’t listened properly to him as she ought. He had changed for her and she had not given him the recognition he deserved. She would never have been happy married to a dissolute player living on credit, and he had made sure she would not have to. But had she said a word in praise of his efforts? No – she had reacted like a fool at the first hint of a difference of opinion between them.

‘I think I have made a mess of things,’ she whispered, half to herself. ‘We’ve argued, you see.’

Tobias raised his glass to her. ‘Never fear, Mistress Mercy. Kit is without defences where you are concerned. If you have offended him – which I doubt very much – he will soften at the very merest hint of a gentle word from you.’

She hoped he knew his brother better than she did. The last she’d seen of Kit had been a very cold farewell on the steps where they had got out of the boat. Eagle-eyed Ann had noticed the chill between them, but Mercy had been too despondent to admit what was the cause.

‘I pray you are right, Master Lacey.’ She didn’t have long: the earl was rising, agreeing to meet her father again on the morrow when business resumed. ‘If you see him, tell him I … I …’

Tobias touched the back of her hand comfortingly. ‘Don’t worry, mistress. I know what to say.’

‘Awake, my lord, and face this happy day,’ Tobias chirped, when he found his brother still abed despite the fact it was Sunday afternoon. ‘Will is below being waited on by your landlady. He wants to take us out to dine. We can’t leave him alone with the lady too long – Dame Prewet is in danger of expiring from the honour of having an earl in her kitchen.’

‘I’ve been up already,’ Kit growled, ‘but decided I didn’t like the poxy day so I’ve gone back to bed.’ In two minds if he should go after yesterday’s argument, he had arrived a little later than usual at his spot on the bank, but Mercy hadn’t even had the patience to wait for him. He’d faced an empty window and the chuckles of the boatmen who had been charting the
course of the young lovers’ amour each week with hearty interest. The souring of the affair had made one man the richer from the evidence of the coins that changed hands as Kit stormed away and taken his bad mood back to bed with him. His humiliation had been complete.

Tobias ignored his ill-tempered brother as he cast back the shutters.

‘I saw Mercy but an hour since.’

Kit rolled on to his back and put his hands beneath his head. ‘Let me guess, she was out with her God-fearing folk singing Sabbath psalms.’

‘No, she was serving Will and me wine in her father’s house.’

‘What!’ Kit jumped up.

Tobias pretended to cover his eyes. ‘Gads, Kit, when are you going to start wearing a nightgown like a Christian?’

Kit grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. ‘It’s too hot. Tell me, sprout, what were you doing at Hart’s?’

Tobias grinned and folded his arms, playing his hand to the full advantage. ‘Tell me,
my lord
.’

‘Tell me,
my lord sprout
, what were you doing at my lady’s house. Will’s not heard about her, has he?’

Tobias shook his head. ‘Not from me – though I think you should let him in on the matter. He and Hart are going to do business together. He might be seeing more of the Harts than you.’

Kit ran his hands through his rumpled hair. ‘What’s going on?’

Tobias rubbed his palms together. ‘I’ve been plotting on your behalf. Think about it: if Hart meets the decent side of
the family, he might soften towards you. It’s no small matter to offend an earl.’

Kit wasn’t sure if he wanted to thank or beat his brother for his interference. ‘’Sblood, Tobias, it might be too late. Mercy and I had an argument yesterday.’

Tobias acted as if this was news to him. ‘What about?’

It was a delicate matter to describe to his brother. ‘She objected when I touched, well, you know, her …’ he made a gesture to his chest.

Tobias fell about laughing. ‘You rogue, you!’

‘It was all very decent,’ Kit growled, ‘no bare flesh. She’s so beautiful – and we are getting married – I just couldn’t help myself taking the liberty.’

This made Tobias laugh even harder. ‘I don’t blame you, you lucky dog.’

Kit decided he really didn’t want to discuss his relationship difficulties with Tobias: he’d managed to rub off all the romance with his amusement at Kit’s expense. He began fastening the points of his doublet to his hose. ‘How did Mercy seem to you today? Did she seem at all regretful about our argument?’

Tobias beamed. ‘Nay, brother, she was as bright as a lark. Seems to me you’ve got your tail tied in a knot for nothing. You’ll have to go crawling to your little Puritan if you want to win her back.’

Kit frowned.

‘Of course, if you don’t think her worth it, then mayhap I could call on her and tell her the match is off … ?’

Kit cut him short. ‘No, it is not.’ He kicked a stool across the room. ‘’Snails, I hate crawling to a girl, especially when she’s the one in the wrong.’

‘But she’s not just any girl, is she?’ prompted Tobias, watching his brother with keen interest.

Kit paused in his angry progress around his chamber, threw his head back and closed his eyes. ‘Nay, she’s not. She’s my Mercy. I’d crawl through the Fleet ditch for her.’

Tobias ushered him to the door. ‘Somehow, Kit, I don’t think that will be necessary.’

The following day, John Hart asked Mercy to stay behind after breakfast for a private word. Mercy’s brain spent the rest of the meal in a spin. Had he heard something about Kit from the earl? She had been wondering how long it would take her father to realize that the earl was the half-brother of her scandalous suitor – Kit had blurted out his origins for all to hear at church, of course. What would this mean for her father’s attitude towards a match with her? If anyone had asked her before yesterday how John Hart rated worldly considerations of rank, she would have laughed at the notion that it could sway his opinion of a man. But after seeing how impressed he had been by the patronage of the young earl, she was re-evaluating that opinion and had begun to dare to hope.

Faith and Edwin left her alone with her father in the parlour, not without some last-minute shuffling and tidying in the hopes that they might overhear what would doubtless be a very interesting interview. But John Hart waited until the kitchen door was firmly shut before speaking.

‘Mercy, a most promising offer has been made to me. It seems you have attracted the attention of a worthy young man.’

This was better than she had hoped. Had an earl so easily made him change his tune about Kit?

‘Indeed, sir?’ She tried for maiden-like interest – not too eager, but ready to please.

‘You know the fellow and I’m sure you’ll agree that he is a very suitable match for you, connecting us to a leading family and forever silencing any doubts about your character that arose so unfairly in the winter.’

Mercy could feel a bubble of happiness forming inside her. She felt she was floating an inch above the ground. ‘I am a very fortunate girl, sir.’

‘Aye, I think so. I have given permission for him to call on you this morning and make his own proposal.’

‘You have?’ Mercy wished she’d put on the new kirtle she’d had made from a pretty blue camlet. Did she have time to change? ‘When will he be here?’

John Hart got up from his chair and put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. ‘I’m pleased that you are taking this so well. I had thought that Faith would be the first to leave my house to go to a husband and I was content to have you by my side for many years longer, but it appears that God has other plans for you.’

Something about this speech made Mercy halt her rush of plans for her meeting with her betrothed. Why would she not take it well when her father knew she loved Kit?

‘Who is coming to call, Father?’

‘Ah, you’ve not guessed?’

Biting her lip, she shook her head, willing him to give the answer she wanted to hear.

‘Why, Righteous Field.’ He chuckled. ‘He says he has heard
much about you from his family and thought you very comely and well behaved when he met you at church. He returned to London with the intention of settling on an English wife drawn from his father’s congregation. You would go back with him to Antwerp for a few years until he is ready to enter the church here.’

Mercy felt as if the floor had just disappeared beneath her feet and she had plummeted into the river. ‘Master Field?’ That could not be: Mistress Field, his mother, had been one of those most harsh in their opinion of her after Kit’s appearance in church. ‘He barely knows me.’

‘Ah, my sweet Mercy, few marriages start with love. It grows as each earns the respect and care of their partner in the union. Only poets can afford to indulge in such dreams of romance; real life is rather more prosaic.’ John Hart took note of his daughter’s horror-struck expression. ‘Have you any reason to mislike the man?’

Mercy shook her head.

‘Then you’ll give him a hearing?’

She had to tell the truth. ‘Father, I love another.’

He tightened his grip on her shoulder. ‘Aye, perhaps you think you do, but listen to Righteous and we’ll talk more about it when he has gone. I think between us we can help you make the right decision.’

13

Righteous Field came calling as the bell of St Mary Overie struck eleven. He stood in the parlour, hat in hand, the epitome of humble youth.

‘Master Hart, I wondered if I might beg the pleasure of escorting your daughter Mercy for a walk in the fields? It’s a lovely day and it does the heart good to appreciate God’s creation in the midst of his wonders.’ He turned to smile at Mercy. ‘And I have some things to say to her that I would prefer to air in private.’

Mercy hoped her father would refuse. She had expected a brief interview in the family parlour with her suitor; an excursion would drag the torture out to an hour at least.

John Hart rubbed his hands together eagerly, not seeing the silent pleading looks of his daughter. ‘I’m sure Mercy will have no objection. I know she loves to be out of doors.’

Righteous creased his brow in a serious expression better suited to an older face. ‘And I promise to return her safely in time for dinner. You dine at twelve?’

‘Let us make it one today,’ said her father, bending over backwards to accommodate the suitor’s wishes. ‘And you will make a fifth at the table, I hope?’

‘Aye, if it please you.’ He held his arm for Mercy to take. ‘Are you ready, fair maid?’

Better to get this over with. Mercy had already decided that her father did not expect her to give the man an answer today so she could listen and remain silent: no one could complain about that. That’s what God-fearing girls were taught to do. She took his arm.

‘Do you have a preference where we should direct our steps?’ Righteous asked.

‘Nay, sir, but you have to walk a long way before you meet any fields inspiring of God’s creation.’

‘I thought we would wend our way past the bishop’s palace and the bear-baiting pits of Bankside. There are pretty enough fields beyond if I remember rightly.’ He turned to the southern end of the bridge.

Mercy wondered if he had been away too long and forgotten that the area he thought to walk through was not known for its decent citizenry. She had left her money pouch at home but the nippers were like to relieve him of his if he did not watch his belt closely. She avoided going that way if she had a choice in the matter. Still, it was the broad light of day, not too grave a risk if they kept alert.

They talked of inconsequential subjects until they turned to walk along the southern bank of the Thames.

‘Have you been to a bear baiting?’ Righteous asked as they approached the pens where the mastiffs were kept. The scarred dogs lolled in the sunshine, barely twitching as they passed, all their energy saved for their deadly afternoon’s sport.

‘Nay, sir. It is not a godly amusement.’ She wished he
wouldn’t keep asking her questions; it was playing havoc with her desire to remain silent.

He paused to admire one particularly vicious mastiff as it gnawed a bone with obsessive focus. Saliva coated the ham knuckle, giving it a dull sheen; tongue licked at the marrow. ‘You think so? I’ve been to them in Antwerp and think them a most intriguing spectacle: Nature at her most raw. It reminds a man that we are all creatures of flesh and blood as well as spirit and soul.’

‘Marry, sir, I never saw the attraction in watching animals fight to the death. I struggle to imagine Our Lord would approve.’

‘But would He approve of a play?’ Righteous opened a wicket gate leading out into the first of the fields around Southwark. This one was given over to pasturage for horses, but they stayed down the far end, watched over by a boy from one of the local stables. He wasn’t doing a very good job, lying on his back, hat over his eyes, in a patch of sunshine. The hedgerows brimmed with flowers, primroses and meadowsweet, a hint of country spring creeping into the city. Mercy wished she were free to enjoy the sight on her own.

‘I … I don’t know. I do not remember plays being either praised or condemned in the scriptures.’ Mercy edged round a puddle of muddy water at the entrance to the pasture.

‘And yet you went to one, I understand.’

‘Aye. Once.’ Where was he leading her in this conversation? If he disapproved of her activities, why ask to court her?

He took her arm, making great show of helping her avoid the mud when really he did nothing but upset her balance. ‘Do not think I consider this wrong. On the contrary, it proves
that you possess a questing mind, an attribute I value in my future wife. I need a …’ He paused. ‘A broad-minded woman by my side in Antwerp.’