The Scottish Play Murder (25 page)

He nodded, grinning.

“You lied to me in order to
test
me?”

He nodded again, but his smile faltered as he began to realize she wasn’t flattered.

“Do you seriously think I would want to entertain a suit from someone who would engage in that sort of manipulation?”

He shrugged as if none of this truly mattered and she should also shrug it off as a lark. “Perhaps not right away, but you can see how well suited we are for each other. You’re an honorable woman, in spite of everything in your life that has encouraged you to be otherwise. The rest of the world doesn’t know what a treasure you are. I could do worse.”

“Indeed, you could. Most men do.” She considered fleeing to her quarters to get away from him, but decided not to act the silly, hysterical girl. Instead she said, “Congratulations on being the rare man to recognize my worth. I suppose now I’ll have to assess yours. I’ll let you know my conclusion once I’ve determined it.” Then she rose and retreated. Not to her quarters, but away from the theatre and to the Goat and Boar. She needed a pint of ale and a good, hard think on the subject of her own true worth.

W
hen Suzanne arrived at the Goat and Boar she found two tables filled with men she might have deemed entertaining. At one table were the three weird sisters, heads together and talking in low voices, their drinks mostly untouched. Strange in itself that they weren’t tossing back their ale and rum with abandon, but to be huddling in private conversation just wasn’t the usual for them. Ordinarily she would have expected them to shout greeting to her and wave her over to their table, in competition with other tables full of friends to have her company. This was just strange. She wondered what might be afoot, but wasn’t in a position to query them on it casually.

At the other table were Piers, Daniel, and Robert Stewart. Their conversation seemed livelier and less private, so she steered toward them, and when Piers saw her approach he reached over to offer her an empty chair. She hung her cloak on a peg by the door, greeted everyone as she sat, then gestured to Young Dent for her ale.

“So, she said, “we’ve determined that our friend Ramsay isn’t the notorious Gordon from the north.”

“Don’t gloat,” said Daniel. “It’s unbecoming.”

Suzanne lifted the stoneware cup of ale brought by Young Dent, and as it neared her lips she said, “If I never did anything unbecoming to a woman, I would get very little done in this world.” She sipped, then set the cup down. “On the other hand, you shouldn’t be so disappointed. Now we can relax and trust our Macbeth not to murder us in our sleep. He is what he says he is, which is also what he appears. A talented actor who has come to London for the sake of making a career from performing in a place where the best theatre thrives.”

“London? I should think Paris would be the best for that.”

“Better London than Edinburgh. Or anywhere else in the kingdom, I think. And I daresay we’ll be hard put to keep him if either of the royal companies catches sight of him and tries to woo him away. We haven’t the money to overcome the lure of playing for the king.”

“He won’t leave,” said Piers. “He’s got his sights set on becoming master of The New Globe Players, which is a position he could never hope for with either of the others.”

“Well, he’ll have to unseat Horatio to accomplish that.” Suzanne took another sip of her ale. “And there’s nothing Horatio doesn’t know about Shakespeare. Besides, why ever do you think Ramsay wants to take Horatio’s place?”

“Not Horatio’s place. Daniel’s.”

“I beg your pardon?” Daniel gave Piers a frown of surprise that was surprisingly false. He pretended not to know what Piers meant, but Suzanne figured he knew very well that Piers was referring to Daniel’s place in her life and her regard. With Robert present, she couldn’t respond, so she changed the subject.

“Well, I suppose you all have heard we’ve caught the villain who threatened me in my rooms the other night.”

Robert inquired about the incident, and Suzanne told the story. Daniel and Piers had only heard snippets of rumor on the subject, and so were as rapt as he as she told of the pirate with both his gun and willie pointed at her.

“And you say he’s been caught?” asked Piers.

“He’s in lockup, and will likely be taken to Newgate tomorrow or the next day. He’s confessed to the assault, and with my testimony he’ll more than likely be convicted. So long as the king doesn’t pardon him, he’ll hang.”

Without even a slight hesitation, Daniel said, “I’ll make certain the king understands the importance of this man being removed from the populace. He’s already once sought you out, and would surely do it again if freed. Given the chance, he would surely kill you for revenge. You needn’t fear a pardon.”

“I have faith he will never see the outside of Newgate again other than for his ride to Tyburn.” Suzanne knew she could count on Daniel to prevent that pirate from being pardoned. She took a long draught from her cup, satisfied that in this case justice would be served.

The outer door of the public house opened, letting in a blast of cold, blustery wind along with Diarmid Ramsay. He shut it behind him, and looked around. When he spotted Suzanne sitting with the three men, he appeared to want to come sit with them, but he hesitated. Then he looked over at the table where the musicians and mummers sat, and still hesitated as he removed his coat and gloves. Finally he stuffed his gloves into the coat pocket and hung it next to the door, then he approached Suzanne without taking a seat at the table, and bowed.

“Good evening, mistress. I hope you are well.”

Suzanne looked up at him and waited to know what this formality was about. The men sitting with her also waited to hear what Ramsay was about.

He continued, as stiff as any courtier before a queen. “I wonder if the lady would care to accompany me on a carriage ride through the park on the morrow?”

“A carriage ride? Awfully cold these days to enjoy the park, wouldn’t you think?”

“I hope the lady would trust me that it would be a pleasant morning regardless.”

Suzanne considered for a moment, then glanced around at her companions. They waited, attending as closely to what she would say as if she were putting on a performance and they would either boo or applaud her decision. Had Daniel not been there, she would not have hesitated to accept Ramsay’s invitation, but he was and she would rather he not know about her relationships with other men. Piers’s presence didn’t help in that, either, since he’d never approved of anyone she knew, including Daniel. Nevertheless, there was nothing for it but to reply to Ramsay as she would. She said, “Yes, Diarmid, I would like to go with you through the park.”

Ramsay beamed his pleasure. Daniel suddenly found the bottom of his glass intensely interesting. Piers’s brow furrowed. Robert’s pleasant, polite smile made him look like an idiot since he was the only one at the table who did not know what was going on. Suzanne smiled at everyone and hoped they would all keep their opinions to themselves. Ramsay held out his hand and Suzanne gave him hers so he could kiss the back of it. “Then I will see you bright and early in the morning. Good evening, my lady.”

Suzanne bade him a good evening also, and felt only a little uneasy for being called “lady.” That term was usually a sarcastic pejorative for someone like her. Ramsay seemed to mean it as a compliment, but she found it difficult to forget all the times she’d been called that when it had not been complimentary at all. She watched him go to sit with the three witches.

Daniel said in a low, dire voice, “Be cautious.”

She shot him a sideways glance and said with an edge to her own voice, “Yes, Daniel. I’ve learned that lesson well.”

He had nothing for her in reply.

The following morning Suzanne was still asleep when a pounding came on the outer door of her quarters. Sheila, in the midst of preparing breakfast, went to admit Ramsay.

“Rise up, my lady! The day awaits, and there is much of it to enjoy! Come and be merry with me!”

Suzanne sat up and struggled to consciousness. She called out, “Be patient! I’ll be there momentarily!” Then she stood and drew on her dressing gown. Her fingers fumbled with the ties, but she managed them, tied back her hair in a quick roll, and went to deal with her overenthusiastic suitor.

“Ah! My lady, ever so sparkling!”

“Ramsay, it’s very early.”

“’Tis the east, and—”

“The sun is barely over the housetops. Come, sit. We’ll have breakfast, then if you’ll allow me to dress, we’ll go then.”

“I could help you dress.” With enormous cheer and limitless hope, he took a step toward the bedchamber. Suzanne stopped him with a palm to his chest.

“Thank you, no. Sheila is quite competent at it.”

“As you wish. But Sheila should never mind the breakfast. I’ve provisions for us in the carriage, and they await.”

Suzanne said as she returned to her bedchamber to dress, “Very well. Sheila, I’ll not need breakfast this morning, thank you.”

“Aye, mistress.”

Suzanne was still groggy and fumbled around as she dressed. Through the open door Ramsay spoke to her of St. James’s Park.

“’Tis a lovely park the king has there. We’ve naught to compare in Edinburgh. Even the grounds at Holyrood are poor and ragged by comparison. And of course our castle is perched on a great chunk of rock and has no grounds to speak of at all.”

“It’s terribly cold today.” Though Sheila had stoked all the hearths well this morning and there were cheery little fires all through her quarters, they did not quite overcome the terribly stiff cold that had descended on London the night before. Today she wore a heavy dress. It was her very heaviest woolen one, a rust brown that made her brown hair appear nearly blonde and ashen by comparison. The neckline was higher than she might have worn for a suitor, but she reflected that in the first place the air was too cold for an exposed chest to be comfortable. In the second place she wasn’t certain how much she wanted to encourage Ramsay in his pursuit. So she dressed for comfort and went with him to the coach he’d hired.

It had snowed the night before. This early only a few carriage tracks and footprints marked the fall that appeared to be six or eight inches. Little piles of it stood atop posts and fences, and it clung to window sills and flower boxes. It all made the air so crisp and cold Suzanne’s nose began to feel numb. Breath puffed from her mouth, and the horses standing ready to pull the carriage looked as if they were snorting smoke in readiness to carry her across the sky in a sun carriage.

It wasn’t a sun carriage, but it was a clean one, unusual among hired conveyances. There were no orange peels on the floor, nor globs of spit, nor drops of blood, as were often found in the hired coaches and sedan chairs of London. Ramsay helped her into it with as much pomp and grace as if she were a queen. She enjoyed the pretense, like a little girl at play, whose prince had come to sweep her off to his kingdom.

He climbed in after her, and helped her settle in beneath a large bearskin robe. He tucked her in until she could barely move, but she was quite comfortable, snug inside the wrap. In spite of the wide open windows in the carriage, she was warm beneath the robe and next to Ramsay. At their feet sat a rather large basket covered with a bright, bleached linen cloth. She could smell warm, seasoned beef, and her stomach growled for breakfast.

The drive through London went more quickly than it would have later in the day. The early hour and the cold made for less crowded streets, so when Ramsay urged the driver to make haste, they heard a crack of the whip and the carriage surged onward. Suzanne watched the huddled buildings of London hurry past.

Soon they approached St. James’s Park, with Ramsay leaning his head out the window to catch an early glimpse of it. When they came within sight, he sat back with a satisfied
“Ah”
and a big grin.

“What?” asked Suzanne.

“You’ll see. ’Tis just as I’d hoped.” The carriage rolled onward.

Suzanne peered out the window, wondering what he meant, but when the carriage plunged through the entrance and onto the park pathway, she understood. They were the first to use the park that morning, and all around them lay a blanket of pristine, unmarked snow. The sight took Suzanne’s breath quite away. In all her years as a Londoner, she’d never once seen clean, untouched snow. For her the stuff had always been dirty, rutted, trampled mush, an inconvenience that made life in general even more difficult than it already was. Today the carriage cut its own path through the smooth, pure white expanse that rolled among the trees and shrubs. The rising sun cast long, blue shadows, and threw golden rays that caught sparkly bits across a meadow of diamonds. Suzanne leaned across Ramsay’s lap for a better view to the front of the carriage. Not one wheel rut nor footprint could be seen in the entire park. Ramsay knocked on the carriage ceiling with his fist and ordered the driver to slow to a walk.

“Oh, it’s beautiful! Now I know why you woke me so early.”

“If you know when to be where, you can have the world to yourself even more so than the wealthy and powerful. All it takes is to want what others do not.”

At that moment Suzanne agreed heartily, and the young girl still lurking deep in her heart thought him wise beyond imagining.

He ordered the driver to stop, and the carriage came to a halt. Except for the track they’d made behind them, they were completely surrounded by a lawn of white. White bits decorated the branches of trees, and well-trimmed shrubs wore lacy caps of white. The silence was only broken by the snorting of horses and the crunch of boots outside as the driver went to the back of the carriage for blankets to put over the horses while they stood. There were no buildings or people to be seen from this spot, only trees and sky. Suzanne sat back down in her seat and pulled the bearskin robe higher onto her shoulders.

“Are you cold?” Ramsay put his arm around her.

“Not really. This is very cozy.” But she didn’t move away from him. Ramsay reached for the basket at their feet. He removed the linen cloth from it and laid it across the bench seat on the opposite side of the carriage. From the basket he drew a bottle of dark French wine, two glasses, and a quilted bag that produced a package wrapped in paper tied with twine. Grease spots on the paper told Suzanne there was food inside. From the savory smell of beef, garlic, and pepper, Suzanne thought it would be beef pies. Ramsay took the glasses in one hand and poured with the other, then handed one of the glasses to her.