“You remember well, jester,” Sir Robert remarked unpleasantly. The man’s voice made Tarleton’s blood run cold. It was like holding a conversation with a loathsome toad.
Sir Robert leaned over his horse’s neck, his little eyes boring into Tarleton. “Now, tell me, player, do you remember Lady Elizabeth Hayward, my betrothed?”
“Aye, sir, a most fair and beauteous lady!”
“Have you seen or heard of my lady?” La Faye’s voice betrayed more anger than concern. “She has been lost these three days, and I do fear greatly for her safety.”
So do If “A beautiful lady lost?” The jester shook his head and made a show of sympathy. “I understand your concern, my lord, but, in truth, I’ve seen no lady upon this road. Wait! Earlier today, a fine carriage passed us, going to London, I think. The curtains were drawn, so I could not see who was inside, but it was accompanied by six or eight outriders.”
“Was there a coat of arms on the door?” Sir Robert’s eyes narrowed even more. He almost foamed at the mouth.
The sight of the nobleman’s barely contained rage against the lady convinced Tarleton he was right to disguise Elizabeth. Never would he let her fall into this brute’s grasp!
“I know not, sir,” Tarleton answered innocently. “I was more anxious to leap out of its way. The carriage was traveling very fast. Perchance it held the lady whom you seek?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tarleton saw Elizabeth losing her grip.
“Ho, Sir Robert!” the nearest horseman called to his employer. “The jester’s lad is nearly under the hooves! I have not seen the like since the Bartholomew Fair!”
“I do not recall you had an apprentice, jester,” Sir Robert remarked, looking over Tarleton’s head at the two figures in the field.
A cold trickle of sweat coursed down Tarleton’s neck. “He is new, your worship. He stayed in the stable at Esmond Manor. I am attempting to train him. Today’s lesson is riding a goat.” Tarleton gamboled an improvised jig to catch La Faye’s attention. “Now it is one thing if the goat were experienced. It is another thing if the rider were experienced. But as you can see, neither this goat nor this boy has any experience at all.”
“He’s-fallen off!” shouted one of the horsemen. “Ride him again, boy!” he called. “‘Tis a rich diversion, eh, my lord?”
Elizabeth had not fallen off. The goat, growing tired of the sport, had dug its forefeet into the ground and bucked his hapless rider over his head. Elizabeth landed in the black muck of a large pig wallow with a resounding splat. Her head spinning, she dimly heard the voices by the wall. Wiping the thick, smelly mud out of her eyes and cursing Tarleton under her breath, she saw the jester with a group of horsemen who were waving and shouting.
How like Tarleton! she fumed, struggling to get a footing in the slippery mess. No doubt he is passing the hat!
Elizabeth had just regained her footing when the goat lowered his head and charged, butting her back into the mire. This elicited even more cheers from her distant audience.
“Robin!” Tarleton called to her. “Up, lad, and ride him again. Sir Robert La Faye finds your antics most amusing. Ride him again, I say, or ‘twill be the worse for you this eventide!”
Sir Robert! Elizabeth’s heart nearly stopped inside her. Squinting through her mud-tipped lashes, she gasped when she saw that it was he, and with a guard of wicked-looking villains! Immediately she understood Tarleton’s ploy. She must play her part as if her life depended upon it—her life and Tarleton’s. She glared at the goat, who pawed the ground nearby.
“Don’t move, you vile brute,” she ordered the creature.
Elizabeth slowly circled the wary animal. Every time she lunged to grab him around the neck, he danced out of her way. Slipping several more times, she completely coated herself with the foul mud. She heard the rough laughter of the men.
“Stop your shambling, you toad-wart!” Tarleton shouted at her. “The gentleman wants a good show. Ride that goat, or I’ll whip you within an inch of your life!”
“Your lad had best lie with the pigs this night,” Sir Robert remarked with an amused chuckle when he saw Elizabeth fall flat again.
“Aye, that he will, for I hope to lie with sweeter company,” leered Tarleton, though his eyes remained fixed on Elizabeth. By now, she resembled a walking mud figure, her distinctive golden hair plastered with the black slime.
“Then we shall leave you to your… training, jester.” Sir Robert tossed a coin to Tarleton. “Here’s for a strop of ale. If you hear of my lady, leave word for me at the Rose and Crown in Woodstock.”
“You are most generous, your worship!” Tarleton bowed deeply again, as the would-be husband and his minions rode off. “And may the devil take you down to hell!” he muttered after them.
“Come, Robin! Stop teasing that poor beast!” Tarleton called to his mud-caked charge. Elizabeth walked wearily back to the wall. Tarleton’s eyes softened when he saw the streaks of tears on her face.
“Have they truly gone?” She shivered.
“Aye, my pet, but they left you with this!” He held out a silver shilling. “Sir Robert has covered my wager “
Numbly Elizabeth looked into Tarleton’s liquid brown eyes. Giving her a mischievous wink, he burst into one of his deep, rolling laughs.
“You are a success, sweet Robin Redbreast!” He tossed his cap in the air. “Not even your sweet mother in heaven would recognize you!”
Elizabeth looked down at herself, then back at Tarleton, then at the large coin he flipped to her. His merry humor was infectious.
“What a supreme jest!” Tarleton capered up and down. “You made your dearest betrothed look a perfect ass. Sir Robert did not recognize his true love even when she was right under his nose! His very dainty nose!”
Slowly Elizabeth smiled as she thought of Sir Robert’s unwitting mistake. How embarrassed that popinjay would be when she told her tale to the Queen and the court! Catching Tarleton’s overflowing mirth, she gave herself up to gales of laughter.
“Oh, Tarleton, it was a goodly trick, wasn’t it?” Her green eyes danced merrily. “But, Sir Jester, you still owe me a shilling of your own!”
“Aye, chuck, I will pay you my just debts anon,” Tarleton agreed. Jesu, how I would love to pay thee with kisses! He jerked himself back to reality. “Now, my muddy prentice, we must get you to Addison Hall.” Tarleton’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Be of good cheer, chuck! ‘Tis just over that hill.”
Under her layer of mud, Elizabeth sighed happily. A bath at last!
“By my troth, ‘tis Dickon!”
A buxom woman, her face cherry red from bending over steaming pots, bounded down the stone steps of Addison Hall’s kitchen. Grabbing Tarleton in her thick arms, she hugged him fiercely.
“‘Tis a month of Sundays since you last showed your ugly face!” She gripped him even harder. “I thought ye had forgotten your Peg. Come now, give us a friendly greeting!” Shamelessly she planted a lusty kiss on Tarleton’s grinning lips. He returned the salutation with equal force and ardor.
Elizabeth stared at the unlikely pair with surprise and some dismay. She’s old enough to be his mother! Several scullery maids hung about the door, tittering at the couple. At last, the