Kat?’
Shakespeare shook his head. ‘It is of no import.’ He finished the brandy. ‘Have me woken an hour after dawn if you would, Mr Whetstone. I am not to be disturbed until then.’
Chapter Ten
S HAKESPEARE TOOK THE great bedstead for himself and slept better than he had done in many days. Boltfoot curled up on the truckle. If either man snored, the other did not hear it. In the morning, they ordered food to be brought to the chamber and although Shakespeare was disappointed that Kat did not serve them, he ate heartily.
‘Boltfoot, you are to spend the morning listening. I want you to go into every tavern, alehouse and ordinary in Sheffield. I want to know what men say about the castle, about Mary and about the earl. Everything. Can you do that?’
‘I can sit in a taproom as well as any man, master.’
‘But can you take note of all you hear? Can you engage men in conversation without yourself coming under suspicion?’
‘I believe I can.’
‘Then let us meet here when the clock strikes one.’
B efore leaving the inn, Shakespeare searched his room for any evidence that Leloup might have left behind, but there was nothing. The maidservant had cleaned the chamber thoroughly, laying fresh rushes.
Outside, the morning was clear with an autumnal bite to the air. Shakespeare marched out of the valley of Sheffield, along the banks of the River Sheaf, and then upwards across a greensward dotted with oaks and herds of grazing deer. A mile or two distant on higher ground, in the lee of a range of hills, he saw Manor Lodge, the mansion Shrewsbury had built as a prison to house Mary when the air in the castle became too fetid. From the far side of the park, it looked a great deal more pleasing to the eye than the castle, and this impression was maintained as he drew nearer.
The gatehouse was distinguished by two high octagonal towers built of brick. He stopped, expecting to be challenged, but no sentries were on duty. The main gate was locked and bolted but beside it there was a postern door, with no lock visible. He lifted the latch and it opened. He walked through into the courtyard.
Like a walled garden, the yard was warmer than the chilly outside. It had a pleasant feeling of neglect. Grass grew between the flagstones, bees buzzed and a mass of butterflies rose up. Shakespeare walked across to the hall door. He was about to try it when it opened. A man in the Shrewsbury livery stood before him, studying him closely.
‘May I be of assistance, sir?’
Shakespeare knew the ways of servants well enough. It was only the good cut of his clothes that prevented the earl’s retainer from booting him away with a choice insult in his ears.
‘My name is John Shakespeare. I am here on Queen’s business, inspecting the earl’s properties.’
‘You will have papers to that effect, sir?’
Shakespeare took his letters from his doublet.
The servant read them carefully, then handed them back. ‘How may I help you, Mr Shakespeare?’
‘Why was no one in the porter’s lodge at the gatehouse?’
‘I was called away briefly, sir. When the Scots Queen is not in residence, security is not seen as being of great importance.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘It is the custom, that is all.’
‘I wish you to show me the lodge. Everything, from the cellars to the brewhouse. But first you will take me to the quarters the Scots Queen uses when she is here.’
‘That will be the octagonal turret, which is presently locked.’
‘And I am sure that you have the key, so let us proceed.’
The servant suppressed a sigh of irritation and bowed his head an inch, no more. ‘Very well, sir. Please follow me.’
‘What is your name?’
‘Flowerdew, sir. Thomas Flowerdew.’
They went through to the servants’ quarters. A pair of young men whom Shakespeare took to be footmen, though they were not in livery, were playing at cards and drinking ale at a table. On spotting Shakespeare, they quickly gathered up the deck
Shakespeare shook his head. ‘It is of no import.’ He finished the brandy. ‘Have me woken an hour after dawn if you would, Mr Whetstone. I am not to be disturbed until then.’
Chapter Ten
S HAKESPEARE TOOK THE great bedstead for himself and slept better than he had done in many days. Boltfoot curled up on the truckle. If either man snored, the other did not hear it. In the morning, they ordered food to be brought to the chamber and although Shakespeare was disappointed that Kat did not serve them, he ate heartily.
‘Boltfoot, you are to spend the morning listening. I want you to go into every tavern, alehouse and ordinary in Sheffield. I want to know what men say about the castle, about Mary and about the earl. Everything. Can you do that?’
‘I can sit in a taproom as well as any man, master.’
‘But can you take note of all you hear? Can you engage men in conversation without yourself coming under suspicion?’
‘I believe I can.’
‘Then let us meet here when the clock strikes one.’
B efore leaving the inn, Shakespeare searched his room for any evidence that Leloup might have left behind, but there was nothing. The maidservant had cleaned the chamber thoroughly, laying fresh rushes.
Outside, the morning was clear with an autumnal bite to the air. Shakespeare marched out of the valley of Sheffield, along the banks of the River Sheaf, and then upwards across a greensward dotted with oaks and herds of grazing deer. A mile or two distant on higher ground, in the lee of a range of hills, he saw Manor Lodge, the mansion Shrewsbury had built as a prison to house Mary when the air in the castle became too fetid. From the far side of the park, it looked a great deal more pleasing to the eye than the castle, and this impression was maintained as he drew nearer.
The gatehouse was distinguished by two high octagonal towers built of brick. He stopped, expecting to be challenged, but no sentries were on duty. The main gate was locked and bolted but beside it there was a postern door, with no lock visible. He lifted the latch and it opened. He walked through into the courtyard.
Like a walled garden, the yard was warmer than the chilly outside. It had a pleasant feeling of neglect. Grass grew between the flagstones, bees buzzed and a mass of butterflies rose up. Shakespeare walked across to the hall door. He was about to try it when it opened. A man in the Shrewsbury livery stood before him, studying him closely.
‘May I be of assistance, sir?’
Shakespeare knew the ways of servants well enough. It was only the good cut of his clothes that prevented the earl’s retainer from booting him away with a choice insult in his ears.
‘My name is John Shakespeare. I am here on Queen’s business, inspecting the earl’s properties.’
‘You will have papers to that effect, sir?’
Shakespeare took his letters from his doublet.
The servant read them carefully, then handed them back. ‘How may I help you, Mr Shakespeare?’
‘Why was no one in the porter’s lodge at the gatehouse?’
‘I was called away briefly, sir. When the Scots Queen is not in residence, security is not seen as being of great importance.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘It is the custom, that is all.’
‘I wish you to show me the lodge. Everything, from the cellars to the brewhouse. But first you will take me to the quarters the Scots Queen uses when she is here.’
‘That will be the octagonal turret, which is presently locked.’
‘And I am sure that you have the key, so let us proceed.’
The servant suppressed a sigh of irritation and bowed his head an inch, no more. ‘Very well, sir. Please follow me.’
‘What is your name?’
‘Flowerdew, sir. Thomas Flowerdew.’
They went through to the servants’ quarters. A pair of young men whom Shakespeare took to be footmen, though they were not in livery, were playing at cards and drinking ale at a table. On spotting Shakespeare, they quickly gathered up the deck
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