Entertaining Mr Pepys by Deborah Swift

Author:Deborah Swift
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Accent Press
Published: 2019-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

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In less than a week the Knepps were also on the road, bumping down the long trail to Oxforde. Mrs Knepp, Bird and Anis were to share a poky chamber on the first floor of the farmhouse, but Mrs Knepp’s gout was bad again and in the end Bird set out a cushioned chair and footstool in the downstairs parlour, and with Anis at her side with her ‘Yes, Madam’s’, Mrs Knepp rarely moved from there.

This meant Bird had the luxury of a room to herself, and Knepp took the adjacent one, and thank heaven, all this upheaval had diverted him from the idea of begetting an heir. The first few weeks of being in Oxforde the players played in two of the taverns to earn some money, and to make their presence in the town felt, and until Killigrew could persuade the king to fix a date for their performance.

The players were to perform for the king in a room off the Geometry School close to Convocation House, so the next morning Bird set off to walk there for rehearsal. As Bird headed down the path towards the honey-coloured walls of Oxforde, the sweet-smelling river slid by, filled with the glitter of light, so different from the dark, brackish Thames. It was harvest-time; the musky scent of the hayfields filled her nostrils, and the mowing men raised their heads briefly from their scythes to nod as she passed.

When she got to the rehearsal room she was early, but she pushed the door open to find a panelled chamber which seemed poky after the bright outdoors. A slim figure, with a quill in hand, was bending over the scripts with his back to her. At the creak of the door, he turned and hastily thrust some papers out of sight.

‘Ah, Mrs Knepp, the warbler,’ Stefan said, his tone mocking.

What was he doing here? She felt a tinge of annoyance that he was to be one of the players. She ignored his comment and went to sit alone on one of the leather seats pushed against the walls, watching as he set out the players’ scripts, and the list of rehearsal times.

Shortly afterwards Mr Mohun and the rest of the company arrived in a great gaggle, full of good humour and banter.

Anne Marshall whipped off her sun bonnet and sat down next to Bird. ‘Warm today, isn’t it?’ she said.

Mohun clapped his hands for the assembled company to be silent.

‘Clap for yourself, would you now?’ Anne said, winking at the others.

‘Oh, ha ha. Very droll. You’ll stop your jests when you realise you’ve just three days to learn your parts. And what’s worse – we can only have this room for rehearsal on two afternoons.’

A general outcry which Mohun had to hush with a flapping hand.

‘Given that this is a unique opportunity to please his sacred Majesty and his Royal Court, and thus increase our coffers, please make sure you are word-perfect when we next meet, Wednesday this week.’

‘It’s too short,’ Anne said.

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