stretcher.’
I wished I could be stone, like the statues in the hall. A statue had no father or mother, that her heart should freeze like this. What was a daughter? Nothing, when she refused to be what her parents wanted her to be.
‘Father, please.’
‘You baggage! You tallow face!’
His yells hit the marble walls. I heard their echo down the corridor.
I kneeled in my shift on the floor. It was as though I pleaded for a million daughters. Pleaded to be myself, not just a daughter, a possession like his ships. ‘Good father, I beseech you on my knees …’ I had never asked him for anything. Not his love, nor even his notice. ‘Hear me with patience but to speak a word!’
‘Hang thee, young baggage. Disobedient wretch! Get thee to church on Thursday or never after look me in the face. Say nothing, don’t reply, don’t answer me. My fingers itch.’
He lifted up his hand to slap me. I cowered back.
‘Wife, we scarce thought ourselves blessed to have but this only child! Now I see this one is one too much.’
He grasped me by the hair. I screamed. His hand slapped my face, once and then again.
‘My lord … you are to blame, my lord, to scold her so.’ It was Nurse. My dear Nurse.
My father stared at her. ‘Hold your tongue!’
‘I speak no treason, sir!’
‘You mumbling fool! Speak with the other gossips. I want none of it here.’
His face was red. His hands shook as they gripped my hair. I bit my lip to stop crying with the pain.
My mother murmured, ‘Sir, you are too hot-tempered.’
My father dropped me, so suddenly my elbow cracked against the floor. ‘Hot?’ he repeated. ‘God’s bread, it makes me mad! Day, night, hour, time, work, play, all my life has been to have her matched well, a gentleman of noble parentage, stuffed with honourable parts, and then to have a wretched snivelling fool to answer, “I’ll not wed. I cannot love. I am too young. I pray you, pardon me.”’
He stared down at me, as if I were a beggar in the street. ‘Thursday is near, and you are mine,’ he added coldly. ‘I’ll give you to my friend. If you refuse, you can beg in the streets, hang, starve, die, for all I care. I won’t acknowledge you. For what is mine shall never do you good. Trust to that, my girl. You have my word.’
He pushed past Nurse. She curtseyed, trembling, remaining with her head bent low till he was gone.
I lay where he had shoved me, on the floor. I looked up at my mother, her eyes as black shadowed as her dress. ‘Is there no pity sitting in the clouds? Oh, sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week. Or, if you do not, make the marriage bed in that dim monument where Tybalt lies.’
My mother was silent. I thought she listened to me. But when she spoke it was with more contempt than I had ever heard.
‘Do as you want, for I have done with thee.’ I heard the silk of her dress sweep across the floor and out the door.
Chapter 16
I sat on the cold floor in my shift. My hair was down and knotted, my feet bare. No wonder my parents had not listened to me.
No, it made no difference what I wore or what I said. I was theirs, to do with as they wanted. All I’d ever known was what they had given me: life, the silks I wore, the pearls, the dancing master. But none of it for love. If they loved me, they would have listened to me. My parents had created their daughter as my father would have shipwrights build a ship: for its use and the wealth it would bring him.
But I was not a ship. I was Juliet. And I owed my parents nothing now.
I said in a small voice, ‘Nurse? Have you any word to comfort me?’
She sighed. ‘Well, here it is. Romeo is banished, and likely he’ll not come back. So perhaps it is for the best that you marry Paris.’
I stared at her.
She went on more quickly. ‘Oh, Paris is a lovely gentleman. Romeo’s a dishcloth to him. I think you’re lucky in this second match, for it exceeds your first. Your first is dead,
I wished I could be stone, like the statues in the hall. A statue had no father or mother, that her heart should freeze like this. What was a daughter? Nothing, when she refused to be what her parents wanted her to be.
‘Father, please.’
‘You baggage! You tallow face!’
His yells hit the marble walls. I heard their echo down the corridor.
I kneeled in my shift on the floor. It was as though I pleaded for a million daughters. Pleaded to be myself, not just a daughter, a possession like his ships. ‘Good father, I beseech you on my knees …’ I had never asked him for anything. Not his love, nor even his notice. ‘Hear me with patience but to speak a word!’
‘Hang thee, young baggage. Disobedient wretch! Get thee to church on Thursday or never after look me in the face. Say nothing, don’t reply, don’t answer me. My fingers itch.’
He lifted up his hand to slap me. I cowered back.
‘Wife, we scarce thought ourselves blessed to have but this only child! Now I see this one is one too much.’
He grasped me by the hair. I screamed. His hand slapped my face, once and then again.
‘My lord … you are to blame, my lord, to scold her so.’ It was Nurse. My dear Nurse.
My father stared at her. ‘Hold your tongue!’
‘I speak no treason, sir!’
‘You mumbling fool! Speak with the other gossips. I want none of it here.’
His face was red. His hands shook as they gripped my hair. I bit my lip to stop crying with the pain.
My mother murmured, ‘Sir, you are too hot-tempered.’
My father dropped me, so suddenly my elbow cracked against the floor. ‘Hot?’ he repeated. ‘God’s bread, it makes me mad! Day, night, hour, time, work, play, all my life has been to have her matched well, a gentleman of noble parentage, stuffed with honourable parts, and then to have a wretched snivelling fool to answer, “I’ll not wed. I cannot love. I am too young. I pray you, pardon me.”’
He stared down at me, as if I were a beggar in the street. ‘Thursday is near, and you are mine,’ he added coldly. ‘I’ll give you to my friend. If you refuse, you can beg in the streets, hang, starve, die, for all I care. I won’t acknowledge you. For what is mine shall never do you good. Trust to that, my girl. You have my word.’
He pushed past Nurse. She curtseyed, trembling, remaining with her head bent low till he was gone.
I lay where he had shoved me, on the floor. I looked up at my mother, her eyes as black shadowed as her dress. ‘Is there no pity sitting in the clouds? Oh, sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week. Or, if you do not, make the marriage bed in that dim monument where Tybalt lies.’
My mother was silent. I thought she listened to me. But when she spoke it was with more contempt than I had ever heard.
‘Do as you want, for I have done with thee.’ I heard the silk of her dress sweep across the floor and out the door.
Chapter 16
I sat on the cold floor in my shift. My hair was down and knotted, my feet bare. No wonder my parents had not listened to me.
No, it made no difference what I wore or what I said. I was theirs, to do with as they wanted. All I’d ever known was what they had given me: life, the silks I wore, the pearls, the dancing master. But none of it for love. If they loved me, they would have listened to me. My parents had created their daughter as my father would have shipwrights build a ship: for its use and the wealth it would bring him.
But I was not a ship. I was Juliet. And I owed my parents nothing now.
I said in a small voice, ‘Nurse? Have you any word to comfort me?’
She sighed. ‘Well, here it is. Romeo is banished, and likely he’ll not come back. So perhaps it is for the best that you marry Paris.’
I stared at her.
She went on more quickly. ‘Oh, Paris is a lovely gentleman. Romeo’s a dishcloth to him. I think you’re lucky in this second match, for it exceeds your first. Your first is dead,
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