Read Kissing Shakespeare for Free Online

have no qualms about that. You look lovely.” His smile seemed warm and genuine.
    He’d changed too, back into the velvet doublet, silk hose, and fancy boots from last night. He also wore a small ruff at his neck. That would take some getting used to.
    “Allow me to escort you to the meal,” he said, holding out his arm.
    “Why do these shoes feel so weird?” I asked, hobbling along beside him.
    “Because there’s no left or right. The shoes will gradually mold themselves to your feet.”
    Oh, this just gets better and better . Until that happened, I’d have to walk as though my feet couldn’t coordinate with my brain.
    Along the staircase—different stairs than we’d used before—portraits of various family members lined the walls, their expressions either haughty or grim. In the lower hallway, Stephen said, “The chapel is hidden away down here somewhere, I believe.”
    “Hidden?”
    “The Hoghtons are Catholic and cannot practice their faith openly.”
    “What’s wrong with being Catholic?” I asked, lengthening my stride to match his.
    “The queen and Privy Council—and an act of Parliament—have decreed that we must all be Church of England. Protestant.”
    “Are you saying it’s against the law to be Catholic?”
    “The queen, for the most part, is tolerant of Catholics.”
    “That didn’t really answer my question.”
    He acted like he hadn’t heard me. “For now, our concern is to identify the priest, the Jesuit attempting to recruit Shakespeare. He’s disguised as … something else. We shall find out soon enough.”
    A soft grunt of irritation slipped out. “You still haven’t explained how this is all supposed to work.”
    “We must find our bearings before taking any action. Shakespeare will be at the meal. It will be your first chance to meet him.”
    “William Shakespeare will be at lunch?” My voice rose an octave, and Stephen grinned.
    “It would behoove you to study him. Notice whom he converses with and what he says. Discreetly, of course.”
    He couldn’t resist bossing me around. “Too bad I don’t have my laptop, or at least a spiral. I could take notes.”
    He raised an arrogant brow. “And whatever else you do, remember who—and where—you are.”
    I rolled my eyes at him. “No problem.” How could I forget?
    My heart pounded like a jackhammer as we entered the hall where the others were awaiting us. I inhaled deeply and followed Stephen. Showtime .

T HE CAVERNOUS ROOM DISTRACTED ME , which was what I needed. I marveled at its size and the rich textures of the wood covering its walls. The wood’s darkness was offset by the light streaming through the tall, mullioned windows set in alcoves on either side of the room. Stephen led me to a long oak table on a dais, where several people were already seated. As we approached, the men rose.
    After greeting us, Master Hoghton said, “Stephen and Olivia, may I have the honor of introducing you to some of the members of our household? Our cousin Jennet Hall has lately come from Clitheroe. And this young man is Master William Shakespeare, our new schoolmaster.”
    My breath caught. I’d forgotten Shakespeare would be my age. I’d been picturing someone older, with a receding hairline. This Shakespeare was a boy with a high forehead, chestnut hair, and a playful gleam in his eye. He stood, doffed his cap, and bowed. Jennet rose and curtsied, and I followed her example. My cheeks flamed. I knew my curtsy must look awkward and probably comical. No doubt I’d have lots of opportunities to perfect it in the coming days.
    My uncle introduced three other men. The oldest was Peter Gillam, Master of the Revels. The youngest was his son, Fulke, who looked about Shakespeare’s age. The remaining man, called Thomas Cook, was a scholar on his way to Oxford. “And now, Olivia, please be seated next to me,” Master Hoghton said.
    “It would be my honor, Uncle.” A servant standing against the wall pulled out my chair for