‘Bart Shiring.’
‘Oh, God, poor you,’ she said, even though Bart was her second cousin. Her sympathy made Margery feel even more sorry for herself. Susannah thought for a minute. ‘It’s no secret that my marriage was arranged, but no one forced me,’ she said. ‘I met him and liked him.’
‘Do you love him?’
She hesitated again, and Margery could see that she was torn between discretion and compassion. ‘I shouldn’t answer that.’
‘No, of course not, I apologize – again.’
‘But I can see that you’re in distress, so I’ll confide in you, provided you promise never to repeat what I say.’
‘I promise.’
‘Brecknock and I are friends,’ she said. ‘He’s kind to me and I do everything I can to please him. And we have four wonderful children. I am happy.’ She paused, and Margery waited for the answer to her question. At last Susannah said: ‘But I know there is another kind of happiness, the mad ecstasy of adoring someone and being adored in return.’
‘Yes!’ Margery was so glad that Susannah understood.
‘That particular joy is not given to all of us,’ she said solemnly.
‘But it should be!’ Margery could not bear the thought that a person might be denied love.
For a moment, Susannah looked bereft. ‘Perhaps,’ she said quietly. ‘Perhaps.’
Looking over Susannah’s shoulder, Margery saw Ned approaching in his green French doublet. Susannah followed her look. Perceptively she said: ‘Ned Willard is the one you want?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good choice. He’s nice.’
‘He’s wonderful.’
Susannah smiled with a touch of sadness. ‘I hope it works out for you.’
Ned bowed to her, and she acknowledged him with a nod but moved away.
The actors were hanging a curtain across one corner of the room. Margery said to Ned: ‘What do you think that’s for?’
‘They will put on their costumes behind the curtain, I think.’ He lowered his voice. ‘When can we talk? I can’t wait much longer.’
‘The game is about to begin. Just follow me.’
Philbert Cobley’s good-looking clerk, Donal Gloster, was chosen to be hunter. He had wavy dark hair and a sensual face. He did not appeal to Margery – too weak – but several of the girls would be hoping to be found by him, she felt sure.
New Castle was the perfect location for the game. It had more secret places than a rabbit warren. The parts where the new mansion was joined to the old castle were especially rich in odd cupboards, unexpected staircases, niches and irregular-shaped rooms. It was a children’s game and Margery, when young, had wondered why nineteen-year-olds were so keen to join in. Now she understood that the game was an opportunity for adolescents to kiss and cuddle.
Donal closed his eyes and began to say the paternoster in Latin, and all the young people scattered to hide.
Margery already knew where she was going, for she had scouted hidey-holes earlier, to be sure of a private place in which to talk to Ned. She left the hall and raced along a corridor towards the rooms of the old castle, trusting to Ned to follow her. She went through a door at the end of the corridor.
Glancing back, she saw Ned – and, unfortunately, several others. That was a nuisance: she wanted him to herself.
She passed through a small storeroom and ran up a twisting staircase with stone steps, then down a short flight. She could hear the others behind her, but she was now out of their sight. She turned into a passageway she knew to be a dead end. It was lit by a single candle in a wall bracket. Halfway along was a huge fireplace: the medieval bakery, long disused, its chimney demolished in the building of the modern house. Beside it, concealed by a stone buttress, was the door to the enormous oven, virtually invisible in the dimness. Margery slipped into the oven, pulling her skirts behind her. It was surprisingly clean, she had noted when scouting. She pulled the door almost shut and peeped through a crack.
Ned came charging along the passageway, closely followed by Bart, then pretty Ruth Cobley, who probably had her eye on Bart. Margery groaned in frustration. How could she separate Ned from the others?
They dashed past the oven without seeing the door. A moment later, having run into the dead end, they returned in reverse order: Ruth, then Bart, then Ned.
Margery saw her chance.
