Page 26 of Love, Will

Henry lost his tension as well and smiled.

“Does the Countess enjoy anything in particular?”

He scratched the back of his head, slightly ashamed. “She always liked fairies.”

I smiled even wider. “In that case, I will write a play with fairies in the Countess` honour”.

We remained trapped in a stare, pleased with ourselves and smiling. I decided it was time to go, so I marched slowly towards the door, Henry still looking at me with a grin.

“Could I have the pages back?” I dared say.

The Earl frowned. “I am not letting this go,” he replied while placing the pages on his chest, as though to protect them from me and retaking his reading position in the two chairs.

Before closing the door, I heard his voice. “Will, one more thing.”

“Yes, of course.” I halted and waited.

“I hope this will have another dedication towards your patron.” Henry’s eyes followed mine before he dropped his gaze back to the pages. He knew, I realised. He knew the poem reflected my ardent feelings towards him and still, he pushed, as though wanting me to say it. Challenging me to admit that I loved him.

My heart pounded, more agitated than the river Thames in November, but I nodded and closed the door.

The day of the wedding quickly came upon us and I finished writingA Midsummer Night’s Dreama week before the event. The Earl invited the Pembroke’s Men to Titchfield to act in the Countess` honour. I was ecstatic to see my friends again and spent most of the week with them in the garden or at a table, drinking and chatting away. They had travelled the South and passed through Warwick on their return to London, where they found my first published work,Venus and Adonis, dedicated to the Earl.

“So this is who you have been doing, huh Will?” Richard mocked. I frowned, and he coughed. “Sorry, what you have been doing, I meant to say.” We spent the days rehearsing, dining and drinking, discussing new ideas for the theatre and other plays they had learnt about in their travels.

While Will Sly was having a laughter attack after Richard recounted some experiences he had in a brothel, Henry made his way into the tearoom where we had gathered that evening, opening the door with fractional movements as if he wanted to break time in little pieces and move towards us unnoticed. He was, of course, unsuccessful, because the moment the men saw his hand on the door, pushing it open, they immediately stopped the laughter and mockery and rose from their chairs to bow to our host.

I was the only one to remain seated, as him and I were years past that formality and only smiled as he approached. The Earl took a few steps, acting too wary to come close to the area where the men sat, and signaled me with his hand to come to him. I immediately stood up and went to meet him.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, almost scared. The Earl’s behaviour felt very unnatural, acting like a stranger on his own estate.

He only whispered, approaching his lips to my ear to keep our conversation secret from the other. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to ask if I can join tomorrow for the rehearsal,” he murmured, breath tickling my earlobe and then took a miniature step back, looking expectantly at me. He was so sweet I could almost kiss him then and there, without caring what the others would think or say.

“Henry, it is your house. We are all your guests,” I told him firmly, urging him to make the decision himself.

“I know, but I don’t want to bother you,” he murmured, fidgeting and playing with his fingernails. I wanted to eat him alive, but placed a hand on his shoulder encouragingly.

“Your mother is our muse and we are your guests. We would be pleased to have you sit in tomorrow, Henry.” He smiled widely, excitedly but even from a distance l felt Richard’s judging gaze burning the back of my neck. I ignored it and made the announcement out loud, “Men, the Earl will do us the honour of joining our rehearsal tomorrow.” They all smiled, wearing gleeful expressions, which in turn helped the Earl relax by my side.

It was the least I could do after the respect he had shown. He knew I hadn’t seen my friends for a long time, and lent us the time and space to catch up, to the detriment of his own position in the household.

“If his Lordship loves theatre, it would be our great honour to invite him to direct the stage if he would agree,” Richard said. He was trying to prove a point to the discussion we had in the morning where he warned me that my familiarity with the Earl turned potentially dangerous and reminded me how I could be beheaded at any moment. Not the friendliest of conversations, though he had a very realistic perspective and I had to admit, these feelings could easily turn to my detriment and send me to an untimely death. London, even though tolerant and modern during many occasions, had not yet learnt to accept the love of a man towards another.

Already used to Richard’s dramatic moments, I ignored his warning, thinking that nothing wrong would come out from me addressing Henry without a title or us sharing a friendship. I later found out that this was not what he referred to. He knew very well that nobility could not assist in theatre, since it was considered an entertaining but shameful art.

However, to all of our surprise, when hearing Richard’s proposal, Henry’s face illuminated with joy and looked to me for approval.

“Can I, Will?”

“Of course, if you desire so.” I smiled back, proud that he would even consider the proposal, which in another Lord’s view, could have been an offence.

“Of course I desire so!” he said, waving his hands with joy.

The men invited him to sit with them to discuss the play and Henry joyfully agreed, taking a seat on the sofa next to me. Richard took it upon himself to give the Earl as many details about the play I wrote as he could and our host was excitedly listening to him when he realised he did not have a glass of wine like the rest of us.

Instead of asking the footman for one, he grabbed the glass I was holding in my left hand and took a sip, continuing to listen to Richard speaking, then gave it back to me and started asking questions, as though sharing a cup happened so often that it didn’t even come noticed any longer. Richard looked at me with fire in his eyes, but I chose to ignore him and took a sip from the same glass, my lips instinctively placing themselves over the exact side of the rim that Henry’s lips had touched.

We spent another hour getting the Earl accommodated to the list of requirements, after which we said good night and headed to our respective rooms. I was tired and slowly walking towards mine when I felt a firm push from behind and in a split second, someone pressed me against the wall. With the corner of my eye I spotted Richard’s elbow pushing on my throat, barely allowing me to breathe. I was shocked and scared, trying to get myself free from his brutish arms.

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