Playing the King's ***

The carriage ground to a harsh halt, and I jolted awake from my slumber on Ben's lap. I lifted my head from his knee and pulled the curtains, looking out to what I could only imagine was Shepherd's Bush. I nudged Ben awake and waited for the driver to open the door. As expected we heard his feet drop and the click of the door. We blinked into the early morning sunshine and smiled at our escort.

"Thank you ever so much for the drive. How much would you like, sir?" I asked, switching to the male voice I had forgotten about half way through my sentence.

"Ooh, I'd say £1 for the both of you." I smiled kindly to the man, as he had given us a generous price for driving all of that way.

"Thank you again, sir." I said, Ben nodded and we wandered off, waiting to find another driver to take us to Kensington.

"So, you want to be like Barbara Strozzi or Jean-Baptiste Lully then Ben?" I said, picking at the bread roll I had just purchased for Ben and I to eat as we walked.

"I hope to compose music, at least privately. It would be wonderful to have an audience though. But I still need so much training." He sighed. I bit my lip, feeling upset that I couldn't make it happen sooner.
We walked in silence for a few seconds, before a young man in a beautiful, long wig strolled up to us from behind.

"Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear one of you lads is looking to compose music?" The man said. He was devilishly handsome; rugged, slightly dishevelled but professional. He had a pointed moustache and carried a cane with him. He looked ever so elegant.

"Yes! My good friend Ben here is looking to learn as much as he can. He hopes to be the next Jean-Baptiste Lully!" I said, trying not to sound too much like a woman. The man smiled at my eagerness and showed great interest in Ben's aspirations.

"Just your luck that I should be passing by today then my son. I'm about to offer you a position you will not be able to pass up," Ben looked at me, excited but clearly nervous.
"I work for a renowned company that nurtures musicians, and we're looking for new players to train in order to play for the productions that we perform. It will be for the likes of reproductions of Shakespeare works and such. Obviously you'll need to be perfect, but we haven't had many submissions. It will cost a small fee, but if you're determined I'm sure you'll not mind..." The man said, raising his eyebrows in anticipation of Ben's answer.

"How much would it cost?" Ben asked inquisitively. I grabbed the man's arm.

"It won't matter the cost; he's in. I have enough money for a few people to train, so whatever the price I can pay for it." I looked at Ben and smiled, excited for him at the prospect of him being able to succeed.

"Excellent! Well, you shall have to come with me then my lad. I've a carriage that should be here once I'm done buying some food for my family, and we can set off to the studio where I teach. Does that sound fine?" He asked, putting a hand on Ben's shoulder. He looked at me, furrowing his eyebrows, scared to leave me alone. I tilted my head, sad to be seeing him off but knowing it was for the best.

"Go, Ben. I'm a man, I'll be safe!" I said, reminding him that though I was a woman underneath these clothes, on the exterior you could not tell. I handed the man the cost he asked and let him take away my travelling partner. I waved to Ben as they walked away back to the market stalls of Shepherd's Bush, and I trundled onwards looking out for a carriage.

After twenty minutes of wandering alone, I came across an old woman who was stood on the side of the road with an average sized horse.

"Excuse me?" I said crisply as I walked up to her. She was wearing bedraggled clothing and her shoes were barely there. Her skirts were caked in muck and grime from the slum she so obviously lived in. Her hair was greying and tangled, bundled under a moth eaten bonnet and her skin was ageing rapidly, though she was very clearly not even middle aged. She glanced up as I approached, tightening her grip on the rope that was holding the horse.

"I won't steal him. I want to ask if he's for sale?" I said, worried she would turn down the offer.

"Yes, I've been trying to sell him all week. My family haven't eaten you see, because we had no money. Whatever you think is reasonable, I'll be more than happy with." She said, in a croaky London accent. I looked the horse up and down, knowing a fair bit about breeds and what the best conditions are. This horse was messy, but he was a fine specimen nonetheless. I took out my drawstring purse and pulled out £18.

"Will this do, madam?" I said, passing her the money. She took it cautiously and counted it.

"Oh that's more than enough, thank you so much young man." She said gratefully, passing me the rope. I pulled out another £2 and gave it to her, feeling desperately sorry for her. She looked so happy that she could burst into tears. I smiled at her and nodded my head, before jumping on the horse and heading East.

I was going to Kensington!