Shakespeare's Rebel by C.C. Humphreys Read Free Book Online Page A

to Samuel’s school at Westminster Abbey. Then on to Oxford. Samuel will adopt him, give him his name . . .’
    His restraint was swept away by a word. ‘He has a name!’ he shouted, seizing her hand again. ‘Lawley! Ned Lawley!’ She tried to pull herself free, but he held tight. ‘Do not do that of all things, I beg you,’ he cried. ‘Leave him his name.’
    ‘And what name is that, pray?’
    The new voice that spoke was querulous, nasal and too high-pitched to emerge from such a frame – yet it did. For at the top of the back stairs, making the wide doorway look narrow, stood a very large man. He was dressed, sumptuously, in tangerine. And when his name was pronounced the English way, it came out as . . . Despair.

IV
    Fathers and Son
    He hadn’t lost any weight, from what John could see – the struggle his three followers had to squeeze past him showed that. They managed it eventually, contriving to slouch menacingly in the little space they were allowed, hands resting on the pommels of their rapiers and poniards. Sir Samuel D’Esparr was quite tall for a wide man but he obviously did not like peering through shoulders. ‘Down,’ he commanded, and his hounds obeyed, descending the stairs and forming a half-circle at their end while their master remained above, and spoke. ‘Why, if it isn’t an old comrade! I did not recognise you at first. That beard. Those . . . clothes. Still, Time will have her way with us all.’ He patted his swelling stomach. ‘How fare you, Master Lawley?’ He did not wait for a reply. ‘Yet beshrew me for asking such a civil question when I have caught an intruder. More – caught him alone with my wife .’ He glanced over. ‘Has he frighted you, my dear?’
    ‘Frighted? No. Surprised, but—’
    ‘Surprised, eh? Surprised my wife .’ Again he overemphasised the word. ‘Can a gentleman allow such an affront? Nay.’ He leaned over the railing. ‘Tomkins, some correction may be required.’
    John had been studying the men-at-arms. Two of middle years like himself, and one younger, they looked capable. At his best he would not wish to take on three capable men – and with a head like a forge, a throat like a lime kiln and his hands imitating St Vitus, he was far from his best. Besides all, he must not brawl – not now he’d learned that Ned was above an inn when he should be across the river in a palace.
    Yet if he had sized up his men, they would have done the same for him. They did not rush to obey. There were ways to end this without blows. Bravado had worked in the past . . . at least half the time. ‘I have already had dogs set on me for her,’ he said, his hand settling on the pommel of his backsword. ‘I will not suffer it again. So know this, Despair: once I have done with them, I will also do for you today . . . and dance the Tyburn jig happily for it tomorrow.’
    The men looked up at Sir Samuel, who shifted, spoke. ‘Od’s heartlings, but what a man of violence it is. Whatever did you see in him, dearest chuck?’
    ‘I forget.’ Tess took a pace closer, putting herself a little between the armed, undrawn men. ‘And I see nothing in him now but a memory. Yet for that, I would not see him corrected. He meant no harm . . . and he was leaving .’
    This last was directed straight at John. He relaxed his grip on his weapon, as did the men before him. ‘Well,’ drawled the knight, ‘if you say he offered no affront. And I can afford magnanimity, can I not.’ He beamed. ‘As I retain possession of the field, eh?’
    It was tempting, to act. He could have done so too, with the dagger between his shoulder blades. Yet once again his new-found near sobriety saved him – and he had other weapons to cut with. So he let his gaze fall on to the scarves the louts wore, then their fuller expression in the tangerine that strained the buttons of the knight’s doublet. ‘Still, I wonder what my lord of Essex would say if he heard you’d assaulted his master of