Chapter 5
FIVE
“The green dress, and the black with the tawny sleeves, but not the pink. It is too bright; I will leave it for summer when we return.”
Thomasin’s clothes were spread out across the bed as she instructed Nell what to pack in the trunk.
Already it was filling up with petticoats, kirtles and nightwear.
Thomasin was planning for a two-week stay, including the journey and time in Chelsea.
Her letter to More had been warmly received, and a return missive issued an immediate invitation, welcoming them as guests to his home, with a promise that Margaret would leave her home at Eltham for a while to be with them, too.
“How about this dark blue? In case the weather is chilly.”
Nell pulled out a rich velvet dress, seemingly plain, but made with luxurious folds, which Catherine of Aragon herself had gifted to Thomasin during her time in her service.
Thomasin eyed it, the memories flooding back. She recalled a bright spring morning in the gardens at Windsor Castle, walking with Ellen and the queen, looking for the first flowers to open their buds.
“Yes, a London dress for a London visit. The weather is often unpredictable. Pack it up with some lavender, though, as it hasn’t been aired in a while.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Then I think just the tawny one, for the Chelsea visit, and that should suffice. And the brown shoes, and silk slippers for indoor use.”
“Will you take your amber beads, my lady? They suit the tawny so well.”
Last Christmas, Giles had given Thomasin a string of beads made with amber from the Suffolk coast, long enough to wind twice about her neck.
“Excellent idea, Nell. After that, go along and see if you can help Mademoiselle Lettice make more suitable choices.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Nell was to remain in Green Hollow when they departed, as her mother in the village was ailing.
Thomasin turned to the window. Her bedroom overlooked the front of the house, down the long lawn to the side of the driveway.
She could see the top of the little chapel beside the gate, and the road leading up to it.
As she watched now, a figure in grey passed behind the posts and disappeared out of sight behind the wall.
Although she was at a distance, something told Thomasin that this was the girl Mariot Gull, the daughter of the village carpenter she had spoken with the other day.
Although Thomasin waited, Mariot did not reappear on the other side of the wall, so she must have entered the chapel again.
A sudden thought seized Thomasin. She grabbed her coat, called to Nell that she was taking a walk, and hurried downstairs and out of the house into the park.
It was a cooler day. The grass was fresh from recent rain, and the whole scene was starting to sprout green with new life. Soon, May would bring that flourish when the hedgerows sprang up, the roses bloomed and leaves opened on the trees.
Thomasin was soon at the chapel door, pausing for a moment before pushing it open. She had been right; it was Mariot, but this time the girl was hunched in the corner, weeping, one arm flung over her eyes. She gasped when she saw Thomasin enter and turned as if to leave.
“Mariot, please stay! I saw you from the house and came down to speak with you.”
The girl gulped down her tears, barely able to form words.
“What is it? Has something happened? Is it the marriage?”
She nodded, wet-eyed.
“Calm yourself. You can speak of it to me without fear. Breathe deeply.”
Thomasin turned away and picked at a few dead leaves on the altar flowers, to allow Mariot time to gather herself.
She was a pretty girl, mature-looking for her age: Thomasin could see why her father was trying to arrange a match for her, but it was a tragedy for a girl like this, so full of life, to be tied to a man she had no liking for.
It could only lead to unhappiness on both sides.
“I tried,” she began, falteringly. “I tried to speak with Father.”
“And what did he say?”
“That it was an honour to marry. He says, what else am I going to do in this village? He couldn’t provide for me anymore, not with trade being poor and the cost of wood increasing. He says butchering is a steady trade and will always keep a roof over my head.”
“I see.”
“I cannot marry Jeremy Gates. I will not. I would rather throw myself in the river!”
“Come now, let’s have no more talk like that. Your father says this because he does truly want what’s best for you. He’s trying to provide you with a future after he is gone, and he chooses this because he can’t see any other way.”
“But I can’t bear the thought of him touching me. It makes me feel ill to think of it.”
“I do understand. It is a shame he is not to your liking. Affection could grow, but an absolute physical aversion is difficult to overcome.”
“Yes,” said Mariot, her dark eyes widening.
The girl was only a little older than Lettice. Thomasin tried to imagine if it were her sister in this situation.
“What if there was another solution? A better future for you?”
“But what?”
“Listen, I am to go to London soon. I may be gone for a few weeks at least, but we may return there for other visits. I might need a maid to go with me, as mine must stay behind to be close to her ailing mother.”
“That’s Nell? Old Fogarty’s girl?”
“That’s right. And because Nell isn’t coming with me, I could use a bright, helpful, polite sort of girl to fill her shoes.”
“You aren’t thinking of me, Miss?”
“Why ever not? Would you like to do it?”
“Like it? It would be like heaven. To go to London! But are you sure, Miss?”
“It would a trial at first: if you prove yourself on this trip, I may take you into my household. Now, surely that is a better prospect than marriage to a butcher’s son.”
“A thousand times so, my lady. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Well, stay a while, and let me speak with your father first. I have to convince him, and it may not be as easy as convincing you. Where is he at the moment?”
“In his workshop, Miss, down by the river.”
“Lead the way, Mariot Gull. Let’s see what he says.”
Joseph Gull’s carpentry workshop sat in a clearing on the eastern side of the village.
A short walk from Green Hollow Place led them down the path between the fields, past the church and into the village centre.
A few heads turned to see the lady of the manor walking along with Mariot at her side, and the landlord came out of the Ram Inn and stood to watch them pass.
A boy drawing water at the well almost dropped his bucket at the sight of them, and ran off in the direction of the butcher’s.
A short, squat youth with thin hair and a pockmarked face was butchering a piglet on a bench outside, and looked up in vacant wonder at the sight of them.
“Is that him?” asked Thomasin quietly, at once seeing the girl’s dilemma.
“Yes,” whispered Mariot.
She pushed open the door of the carpenter’s, unleashing a scent of chipped wood and resin.
At the far end of a cluttered room, full of half-finished frames and cut timbers, a man was working with a hammer, banging nails to fix the legs and seat of a bench.
He was a sturdy figure, dark-haired like his daughter, with an unruly beard.
He started at their approach and frowned at Mariot.
“How now, Mariot. What trouble have you got yourself into?”
“Nothing, Father!”
“Mr Gull?” began Thomasin. “I’m Lady Waterson from the manor house; please forgive this intrusion into your work.”
His expression was a mixture of confusion and cynicism.
“I have a proposition for Mariot. I have observed her attending my chapel and judge her to be just the kind of girl I need. Along with my husband, I am due to depart for London in the morning, for a stay of several weeks. My current maid is unable to attend me, and I would like to take Mariot along with me, to perform various duties such as assisting with my wardrobe, basic cooking and attending my needs. My younger sister Lettice is around the same age and will also be present. It would be a good opportunity for Mariot to see a little of the world outside the village, and might lead to permanent employment.”
The man looked uneasy. “Outside the village?”
“She would be in my care all the time, and that of my husband, Lord Waterson.”
“But London? What is to become of her marriage?”
Thomasin tutted to herself. “I am offering your daughter an opportunity, Mr Gull. London will give her so much more than the village can offer. My first trip to London led to my employment in the household of Queen Catherine, where I met my husband. I have danced with the king, met ambassadors from across Europe, eaten foods I could never have imagined, and been at the heart of the court. As my companion, Mariot can experience things she has never dreamed of.”
“But the butcher’s son is to have her. It is all arranged.”
“Is there no chance that it can be unarranged, if the alternative is London with me?”
The man struggled to absorb the change. “But she is precious to me, my only daughter. I need her settled, for my old age.”
“I will compensate you for the loss of her, never fear, but can you not see the better future that lies ahead of her?”
“Won’t London turn her head, a pretty girl like that?”
“More likely it will be the making of her and she will make a far better match. What do you say?”
Joseph turned to his daughter. “Is this what you want?”
She nodded at once.
“At first, it would only be for a few weeks in London, then we will return to the village. If Mariot proves herself, I shall take her into my household, so you may see her whenever we are at Green Hollow.”
“The butcher’s son will be mighty disappointed.”
“I am sure he will recover from his loss,” said Thomasin, winking at Mariot. “Do you agree to my terms?”
The man shrugged. “I’d be a fool not to.”
“Very good. Then, Mariot, pack up your belongings — three or four of your best dresses and spare shoes — and present yourself at the manor house at seven of the clock tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, we don’t have a clock, my lady, but I shall go out with the dawn and wait until you appear.”
“That will do nicely. And have a good wash tonight; clean your teeth with bark and brush the tangles from your hair.”
“I will, my lady, I will. I will fairly shine when you see me.”
Giles was writing letters on a desk in the oriel window when Thomasin returned home.
“Last-minute arrangements,” he said, looking up as she approached.
“Speaking of which, I might have done something a little rash.”
“Really? You?” He smiled. Even though Thomasin had curbed the more impulsive tendencies of her youth, her husband knew her to still have her passions.
“Can we accommodate one more on our trip? You recall how Nell asked to remain here, on account of her mother. Well, I have found a very promising girl from the village, the carpenter’s daughter, and I would like to give her a trial as my maid.
She’s a good girl and her father is arranging a marriage for her that she cannot stomach, so I want to take her away with us. ”
“You have found someone to save. Thomasin, you are too kind. I hope this girl will not prove to be a burden to you, or run away, or steal your jewels. I trust you have the best of intentions, but your heart is sometimes too soft.”
His words ruffled Thomasin. “I am not a fool. I did think about the matter. When you meet her, you will see that I am right.”
“Don’t be cross with me. You know I trust your judgement more than anyone else’s. Only this is a time of change for us, and we do not need too many other unsteady influences.”
“She will prove herself, I promise you.”
Giles nodded. “Very good. I am sure she will. Now, help me with this letter: how many fresh horses do you think we will need to hire in London?”