Marbeck and the King-in-Waiting Read Free Page A

trying to ignore the looks aimed at him by Lady Margery. Having finished a dish of raisin pudding, he was on the point of excusing himself when the lady leaned forward, turned and called to him across people who sat between them.
    â€˜Master Strang, Lady Alice tells me you were absent this morning, and so missed her lesson.’
    Forcing a smile, Marbeck faced her. ‘Indeed, madam, it was remiss of me,’ he said. ‘Yet Lady Alice and I resumed our studies as soon as I returned. She has forgiven me – and as always, she makes excellent progress.’
    But tonight the lady of the house was not to be placated. Fixing Marbeck with a brazen stare, she said: ‘My daughter may have forgiven you, but I haven’t. I wonder what took you away – in the direction of Mortlake, was it not?’
    Heads turned in Marbeck’s direction, among them that of the steward, who was seated on Lady Margery’s left. On her right, her husband was in conversation and unaware of their discourse. But at once Marbeck saw it: the steward, an officious man, had made no secret of his dislike for him from their first meeting. It was he, of course, who had learned where Marbeck had gone that morning. Silently he cursed the man, as he cursed himself for his carelessness.
    â€˜So it was, my lady, and thence to Richmond,’ he admitted. ‘I’ll confess the reason: it was to get news of the Queen. But there was such a press of folk about the palace I could not get near, and came away having heard naught but gossip.’
    â€˜Then your journey was not only undertaken without thought for your duties, it was also fruitless,’ the steward said, with a smirk at his mistress. ‘And I wonder that any man would wish to go out in this rain … do you tire of us so soon?’
    Marbeck met the man’s gaze. ‘Far from it,’ he replied. ‘Tutoring Lady Alice is a pleasure …’
    â€˜I am glad to hear that.’ Lady Margery watched him, willing him to keep his eyes on hers. Coolly she half-turned to her steward, who took the hint and quickly gave his attention to his supper. Sighing inwardly, Marbeck waited.
    â€˜Our son Thomas reaches his ninth birthday soon,’ the lady continued. ‘I had a mind that he might take lessons upon the lute. Lady Alice, perhaps, should learn the virginals instead. That is more becoming to a young lady – would you not agree?’
    For a moment Marbeck was lost for words. The thought of young Thomas becoming his pupil in place of Lady Alice filled him with alarm; the boy was as unpleasant as any he’d had the misfortune to meet. But the notion crystallized his resolve: he would go, and soon. He inclined his head to Lady Margery.
    â€˜As you wish, madam.’
    â€˜Good …’ The lady kept her eyes on his. ‘It will mean engaging another tutor, but I believe Sir Thomas will be agreeable.’ She paused, and delivered the killing blow. ‘And of course, Master Strang, your duties will then be somewhat lighter, since the boy has other lessons to fill his waking hours. I will have to think of other ways to keep you occupied.’
    At that Marbeck had to make an effort not to wince. The look in Lady Margery’s eye might have been enough, had he not received earlier hints of her intentions too: in particular the time, but a few days back, when she had stopped him in a corridor and made it plain that she would come to his chamber one night, and expect certain services of him. The memory evoked dismay, if not dread. With an effort he smiled again.
    â€˜Your ladyship is kind.’
    The steward gave a snort, and stabbed at his pudding.
    Later that night, Marbeck decided to take a risk and absent himself from Croft House for a second time. The rain had finally ceased, and though the roads were muddy he had thought of taking his horse out of the stables the next morning. Lady Alice’s lesson was not until the afternoon.