Читать книгу My Dark Lady: Shakespeare's Lost Play - Dan Walker - Страница 14

Celia the cook, walked into the bedchamber carrying a heavy serving tray.

"Sorry to interrupt, Ma'am, but I've brought your midday meal."

Ben returned his pen to the inkwell eagerly, his stomach aching for food. He watched in silent agony as Celia served her mistress. It seemed to take the large cook an eternity. Rosie leapt down to the carpet, yapping loudly. Ben squirmed inside. If he could only have a crust of bread while he was waiting, anything to stop his stomach walls rubbing together.

Celia bent over and placed a dish of food beneath Rosie's tiny, pink tongue. Ben licked his lips hungrily. After what seemed like an eternity, Celia turned from the dog and laid a steaming bowl of stew, some bread, and a spoon in front of Ben. Lifting the spoon, he hastily scooped up a mouthful and scorched his throat.

They ate in silence. After Celia had carried the empty bowls away, Anne looked over to Ben and asked, "Where was I? No, don't tell me, I have it. Edward was about to explain how Burghley forced him into marriage..."

Ben nodded encouragingly and dipped his pen. His other hand patted the small pieces of bread he'd hidden in a deep pocket.

"It all seems so long ago. Was it 5 decades or 5 centuries? No matter. What were we speaking of?"

"The Earl gettin' married, an' it please you, Ma'am."

"That's right, his forced marriage. Very well, let me tell you how wedding plans can beget wedding plans."