Once she was out of Will’s sight, Meg clasped her head with both hands. “What have I done?” she murmured. The words “you can trust my brother” had simply rolled from her lips and could not be called back. Had her inward mind decided to hatch some plot unknown to her outward senses? It did irk her to see Will dreaming his days away and writing about ancient history while all of London, a very present place, awaited his discovery. Even more, she was irked that Davy Dapper and Peter Flick were still on the loose.
Having made her promise, Meg was determined to fulfill it. At a shop in Finch Lane she bought a slightly worn suit of men’s clothes, yesterday’s fashion at a cheap price. She pondered an excuse to be away from the inn and decided to tell Gwin she was doing charitable work at a parish far enough away that Gwin would not be tempted to join her. Violetta she was not concerned about. The girl was so consumed with thoughts of Will she didn’t notice anything Meg did.
Meg set in motion her engine of deceit. The wheels turned with surprising ease. Gwin gave her four shillings for the poor, which made Meg feel guilty. Working secretly in her room, listening all the while for footsteps, she padded the doublet to disguise her breasts and embellished it with braid. Despite her caution, light-footed Violetta burst in and Meg had only a moment to throw a sheet over her work.
“I am full of woe!” complained Violetta. “For hours on end Will’s pen makes love to his paper. He has not favored me with a glance all day.” She dropped to Meg’s bed, sitting on the edge of the sheet. “How shall I live without his looks?”
“The same way you lived before you saw him. From day to day rising, eating, working, sleeping.”
“But every hour of the day and night he is on my mind!” Violetta wailed. She balled the sheet in her fist. Meg froze as the sleeve of the doublet peeked out.
“I hear Gwin calling you,” Meg said. “Go see what she needs.”
“I was not meant to be a servant. Thomas Valentine would have given me servants.” Violetta pouted. “Yet here I am waiting on love. On one who hardly deigns to speak to me!”
“I do not think men love women who hang upon them like chains,” said Meg.
“What I need is a friend to woo him on my behalf.” She glanced sideways at Meg.
“Don’t look at me so,” said Meg.
“Please! Will is not in love with you nor you with him, so there can be no misunderstanding!”
“That may be true,” said Meg, wounded, “but I will not be your go-between. It is your father’s office to oversee your courtship. Now go away, for I would sleep.”
“I have no father anymore!” Violetta wailed, pulling the entire sheet to her bosom. She gasped at the suit of clothes lying in full view on the bed.
“Meg! Really!” She glanced around the tiny room and peered under the bed. “Where is he? It’s not … Will?” Her voice trembled.
“Of course not!” snapped Meg. She snatched up the doublet. “I’m doing some mending.”
“Don’t pretend you have become a seamstress. You would not be so red-faced unless you had a lover.” Violetta’s voice fell to a whisper. “You can tell me who he is.”
Meg was not about to lie and say she had a lover. But how could she explain to Violetta that she planned to impersonate a man in order to assist Will? Meg hardly understood this decision herself. She decided on a half truth that would please Violetta—if she believed it.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Meg said. “Knowing how much you love Will, I planned to disguise myself as your cousin—that is, my brother, whom I’ll call Mack—and persuade him to woo you.”
Violetta clapped her hands. “I didn’t know you had a brother. Is he handsome?”
Meg sighed. “I don’t. It’s a disguise.”
“Oh, I see the purpose of the clothing now! How foolish of me to guess that you had a lover!”
“And why shouldn’t I?” Though how such a thing would happen if she were running around as a man, Meg didn’t know.
“You should, and someday you will,” Violetta said with a wave of her hand. “But for now I shall advise you what to say to Will.”
Meg was not listening. She had no intention of asking Will to woo Violetta. Her business was not courtship and love but helping Will find Peter Flick and Davy Dapper. But she had not considered the many deceptions her disguise would entail. Will was no fool; what if he recognized her the first time he and Mack met? How long before Gwin and Overby became suspicious? And could Violetta, who was still chattering like a jackdaw, keep from revealing Meg’s disguise? She must be scared into silence.
“Violetta!” she said, interrupting her. “If you count yourself my friend, you will tell no one of our plan nor reveal that I am Mack. If we are caught in this scheme, eternal shame and ridicule will be our reward.”
“You would take such a great risk for me?” Violetta whispered, touching Meg’s arm.
Meg looked away to avoid meeting her eyes. “It shall be my pleasure,” she said. For she felt a growing excitement at the prospect of meeting Will Shakespeare at Leadenhall Market and roaming the streets with him, freed for a time from the burden of being Long Meg.