Chapter 8 #2
“I have it within my gift to improve your lot, advance your husband, find a match for your sister in time, bestow certain properties and titles — in return for a little company. I am due at court in two days, to some banquet for the French ambassador. He’s quite Anne’s pet, you know, and I would like you to accompany me, as my right hand. I would make it worth your while.”
Thomasin should not have come. It was a mistake. And now she was trapped. She sat silent, miserable, unsure how to extricate herself from such a request.
“Do say you will. I know I ask a lot. One trip to court, for an old lady, before you return to Suffolk.”
“One trip to court,” she agreed reluctantly. “And then we return to Suffolk.”
Thomasin was met at the door of Monk’s Place by Giles, whose face looked strained, with an anxious Lettice hovering in the background.
“What is it? What has happened?”
Giles ushered her inside. “It’s probably nothing, but we can’t find Mariot. Cook had thought she was out in the garden picking herbs, but there’s been no sign of her for over an hour.”
“We’ve checked everywhere,” said Lettice. “She doesn’t seem to be in the house or the garden. Perhaps she got into a boat on the river and got carried downstream.”
“That’s not helpful,” said Thomasin, struggling to control her imaginings. “She can’t have disappeared into thin air. Was anyone out in front of the house who might have seen her leave?”
“No one,” said Giles. “We were in our chambers, Williams was in the study, Cook in the kitchen and both stable boys were cleaning the tack, so she might have walked right out of the front gate without anyone noticing.”
“But why?” asked Lettice. “Why would she do that?”
“Let’s be certain before we start to consider that,” said Thomasin, trying to ground them all.
“Lettice, go out into the garden again and double check everywhere: behind the bushes, in the corners, along the walks, in case she has fallen somewhere. Giles, you go upstairs and I will search this floor.”
They parted at once, a sense of panic starting to rise in Thomasin’s throat.
The girl had confessed that she was feeling overwhelmed, but Thomasin had thought her words of advice had served to calm her nerves somewhat.
They weren’t asking too much of her either; she needed to follow instructions, ask for help, perform simple tasks.
Perhaps she had overestimated the girl from the village after all.
Thomasin really didn’t want to have to explain to Mr Gull that she had taken his daughter to London and lost her.
She met Williams coming out of the kitchens. “Nothing in there, my lady. I checked all the rooms, even inside the chests and the boiling room.”
“How did she seem to you this morning?”
“I had thought her in good spirits, my lady. She was preparing the pie cases with a good humour. I cannot explain it.”
“And Cook? There has been no tension there?”
“Quite the opposite. She has found the extra pair of hands to be of great use. She is checking the herb garden again, and the gate that leads out to the stables.”
“It is the strangest thing,” Thomasin murmured. “Keep looking. We cannot give up.”
“I am sure she will return when she is ready, my lady.”
“I do hope so, Williams.”
Giles came back downstairs, shaking his head. “Nothing. The rooms are all empty. I even looked under the beds.”
“Let’s go back into the garden.”
They were heading down the passageway towards the back door when the sound of feet on the gravel in front of the house halted their progress. A pull upon the bell made them turn and hurry into the hall, without waiting for Williams.
On the doorstep stood two gentlemen, whose dress proclaimed them to be market traders or shopkeepers in the city, both aged about forty, and Mariot standing between them, her face a mixture of fear, shame and relief.
“What is this?” said Thomasin, holding out her arms to the girl, who came gratefully into them.
“Beg your pardon, my lady, this girl belongs here with you?”
“She does; she is our maid. What is amiss?”
“We found her lost and wandering the streets, not knowing her way home.”
“But not before she had helped herself to my apples!” said the second man indignantly.
“I got lost. I meant to bring back money for them!” Mariot protested.
“It is her first time in London,” explained Thomasin. “She came here for the first time just two days back; she does not know her way. I thank you for bringing her home safely.”
“Here,” said Giles, holding out a coin. “For the apples, and for your trouble.”
The men nodded gruffly and took their leave.
“I didn’t mean to steal,” objected Mariot, as soon as the front door was closed. “I had picked up an apple and it was then that I realised I was lost. I quite forgot I had it.”
“But what were you doing out in the street? You should have been safe in the house or garden; it is dangerous to wander out of the gates with no one knowing, especially if you are new here.”
“I heard the traders calling as they passed. Apples and strawberries. I just meant to pop out to have a look, but they were so fast, I had to run after them.”
“No harm done this time,” said Giles. “But you must learn this lesson.”
“You gave us all a fright,” Thomasin frowned, nodding to Lettice, who had come in from the garden. “I was imagining having to tell your father I had lost you!”
“But I would have found my way home. I was going to ask a flower woman which way it was to Monk’s Place, but the apple man took a hold of my arm.”
“Well, no more leaving the grounds. Not at all. Do you promise?”
“Yes, my lady. I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.”
“Now, run along back to the kitchens. Hopefully this will be the last of it!”
They watched her disappear down the corridor.
“I don’t know,” said Giles, his brow knitting. “Leaving the property without asking? How well do you know this girl?”
“She has only ever lived in the village; she’s accustomed to roaming wherever she likes. I suppose she only thought she would be gone a moment.”
“Probably. But we need to watch her closely. It could have turned out much worse than that.”
Thomasin grudgingly admitted this, her stomach churning with the aftermath of fear as they went in to dine. It was only later that she remembered the promise she had made to Lady Elizabeth Boleyn.