Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
The garden was beautiful at twilight, dripping with colour and scent.
Having walked the length of the covered gallery at Monk’s Place, Thomasin and Giles had come to the steps that led down to the river and stood, looking out across the water, where small vessels were still gliding past and a few lights were flickering on the south bank.
“I’ll miss this house,” said Giles, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Thomasin relaxed into his embrace. It had been such a busy few days that she’d missed their quiet moments alone together. “It’s still ours, still here. We’ll be back.”
“Of course we will. Lettice will never let up until we return!”
“I do fear for her sometimes,” said Thomasin. “I know she is young and that can explain away a lot of things, but from time to time she has such high spirits, and is so impulsive and reckless that she reminds me of Cecilia.”
“Now, she is nothing like Cecilia. She is her own person and it’s just the excitement of coming to court for the first time.”
“I saw William Hatton looking at her today in a way I did not like.”
“Perhaps he was also reminded of Cecilia.”
“Perhaps. You noticed he did not ask after his daughter?”
William Hatton had never seen Cecilia’s child, little Rose, who was now almost four years old, born in the Suffolk countryside.
At one point he had urged the pregnant Cecilia to run away with him abroad, before she came to her senses and returned to her parents.
Her marriage to Hugh Truegood was over, although the divorce had not yet been finalised.
Giles gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Forget about Hatton. He is nothing to us. In a few days we will be miles away.”
“Yes. We will, won’t we?”
“Of course. Why do you ask that?”
“Only that court, and the people there, have a funny way of getting their claws into you and keeping you there.”
“Then don’t let yourself be caught.”
Thomasin sighed, watching a ferryman rowing against the tide.
“Look!” Giles pointed. “The moon, up there above the steeple.”
She followed his eyes and saw the pale glimmer of a crescent between the clouds.
“Same moon as over Suffolk.”
When Williams came hurrying down the path, Thomasin knew what it was at once. A sense of foreboding had been growing in her stomach all day.
“I am caught,” she said under her breath, going forward to meet the steward. “Caught in the net.”
“My lady, a visitor. The Earl of Wiltshire. He awaits you in the parlour.”
It took Thomasin a whole minute to realise that the Earl of Wiltshire was Thomas Boleyn, using his most recent title. Her heart sank. For a moment she considered jumping into the rowing boat moored at the end and pulling away from the bank, leaving Giles to make her apologies.
“What does he want?”
“He did not state his business, my lady, only that it was a matter of some delicacy.”
“A novelty for that family,” Giles added. “Let me guess: he has come to ruin our peace, has he not?”
“I rather think he has,” said Thomasin.
Williams gave a small cough. “Mistress Lettice heard him arrive. I believe she is entertaining him.”
“Oh, heavens.” Thomasin sprang into action, marching towards the back door of the house.
She found Lettice propped up by the fire, regaling their visitor with tales of her pet dogs. Sir Thomas rose when Thomasin entered, making a small bow.
“Thank you, Lettice, you may retire now.”
Lettice remained stubbornly in place.
“Thank you, Lettice,” Thomasin repeated with a look that made her intentions plain.
With a sigh, the girl sloped out of the room and they heard her feet heavily climbing the stairs, with Giles’s encouragement.
“My lord, this is an unexpected pleasure. Will you take some wine?”
“Thank you, I will.”
She called for Williams, regretting that she had made the offer, for it meant he intended to stay awhile. However, businesslike as always, Sir Thomas did not make her wait long.
“Forgive me for descending upon you unannounced,” he began, after Williams had departed. “I had intended to write to you, but some things are better said in person, and I feared you may already have departed for the country.”
Thomasin raised her eyebrows.
“It is a delicate matter. It concerns my wife.”
She knew what was coming. It was racing towards her like a great wave rolling down the river, and she was powerless to avoid getting caught in its murky waters.
“I will get to the point. You have seen that my wife is unwell; has been so for a number of years and is unlikely to improve. She requires constant care and my family concerns are such that my children and I are unable to give it. Until now we have relied upon servants and nurses, who meet her bodily needs sufficiently: there is no question of having to do that. What she requires is a companion.” He must have seen her face change.
“Now, hear me out. She feels an affinity for you, for some reason; you did not see how very pleased she was to hear you had returned to London. The day you accompanied her to the feast she was the happiest I have seen her in a long time.”
“My lord, I have every sympathy for your situation, and genuine affection for your wife, but I am bound to return to Suffolk.”
“I am hoping you will consider changing your plans, at least for a short while. I would reward you considerably if you were to remain as her regular companion until at least after Anne’s coronation.
If she is well enough, my wife wishes to play a full part in that and I cannot deny her it.
You would ride at her side, sit with her, cheer her with your words.
After that, she is happy to retire to Hever, but she longs to witness her daughter’s moment of triumph. You can understand that, surely.”
Thomasin could. Yet she wished it had not fallen upon her shoulders.
“What of George’s wife, Jane? Would it not be more suitable to have a family member by her side?”
“The pair of them do not see eye to eye. She has asked specifically for you.”
“She has asked?”
Sir Thomas nodded. “It is her dearest wish. She will have no one else. It is only a few days until the coronation, and then perhaps a period of transition before returning to the country.”
Thomasin sighed. The floodwaters threatened to drown her. She could hear Giles’s footsteps on the floorboards overhead as he entered their bedchamber. How could she break this news to him?
“As I said, there would be handsome recompense. The Boleyns would be in your debt.”
“As you have seen, I have Lettice with me. I cannot just abandon her.”
“We would require you only for a few hours, and not every day, so you would still be lodging here with her, and have time to devote to her. She is a most lively young lady, so far as I can see.”
Lively. Thomasin suppressed a smile.
“I know that relations between us have not always been harmonious. I apologise for that. But time has moved on, and I hope you can put past troubles behind us and find it in your heart to do this service for my wife.”
“What does Anne think of this?”
She was not surprised to see Sir Thomas start. That was the question that had caught him out, she thought.
“I do not require my daughter’s permission for this request.”
“But she is queen now. It is her coronation you wish me to attend. Of all of your family, it is her with whom I have had the least harmonious relations.”
“In four days’ time, they will crown her Queen of England. Two months after that, she is due to give birth. I doubt she will notice who is riding in the carriages behind her.”
“Probably not, but I do not feel comfortable going unless she knows.”
“It sounds as if you are considering it.”
That was Thomasin’s cue to get to her feet before she was pulled in deeper. “I need time to consider this, to discuss it with my husband.”
Sir Thomas rose too. “Of course. It is a decision that affects all of you. However, I need an answer soon, as arrangements must be made.”
“I will let you know in the morning.”
“That will suffice. I thank you in advance, Lady Waterson, for giving this your gentle consideration. You have it within your power to transform my wife’s happiness at such a momentous time that we never truly anticipated.”
Thomasin turned to walk him to the door, but a sudden thought rose in her mind unbidden. There was something she needed to know before she made her final decision.
“One question, perhaps a strange one. There was formerly a young man in your service, Rafe Danvers, whom I have not seen since my return. Does he remain in your household? Am I likely to encounter him at Durham House?”
Sir Thomas shot her a look that made her tingle with discomfort. He saw right through her, she was certain, but she still wanted an answer.
“I recall your past fondness for each other. Do not fear, you will not encounter Danvers in the coming weeks. He is in the West Country with his wife’s family.”
The words hit her like a bullet. She wanted to make him repeat them, but dared not, not wishing to look like a fool.
“Very good, my lord. You will hear from me tomorrow.”
Thomasin stood in the door and watched him mount his horse and disappear through the gates.
Bats swooped low under the trees, making her think again of Green Hollow.
But her happy memories of Suffolk could not stretch to cover the gaping wound in her mind.
Rafe’s wife? West Country? In many ways it was a relief.
To have him removed from her so definitely, so unreachably, meant there would be no awkward encounters, no difficulties that she had feared.
Since that night when she had thought she’d seen his shadow in the privy garden, she’d been bracing herself for the inevitable moment when they would come face to face again.
Yet there was also a shade of disappointment in her heart, that the person she had been so close to was not here, and she would not have the chance to see what the past four years had done to him.
Mixed in with all that was curiosity. She would have liked to see the woman he had married, to know the circumstances in which that had come about, and decide for herself whether they were happy.
Thomasin shook her head, as if she could dislodge these thoughts. Behind her, Giles came slowly down the stairs.
“As we feared?” he asked, before she turned.
“As we feared. A companion to Lady Boleyn during the coronation.”
“A companion? Recompensed handsomely, I am sure.”
“So he says.”
“Just for the coronation? So it would be a week, perhaps? That’s not so bad.”
“I don’t trust it. He spoke of a transition period too. She intends to go into the countryside afterwards, but then there is the child.”
“Take him at his word. Stay for a week, take part in the coronation, reap the rewards, then we go home.”
“I’m sorry, it isn’t what we planned.”
“I can fill the time. I will take Lettice out riding and shopping and to visit a man I know who breeds great hawks! She will be delighted to stay longer. It will let Mariot find her feet, too. And, after all, it is only a week.”
Thomasin did not believe it would only be a week, but she let that go for now. “But me? At Anne’s coronation? Can you imagine her face?”
“It would be quite a thing to see, though. Think of that. An actual coronation.”
“A procession through the streets.”
“You would never see the like again. Most people never get to witness one in their lifetime.”
Thomasin sighed. “To be working for the Boleyns, though? Who knows where that may lead?”
“You would be working directly with the mother of the queen. Think of it that way. Think of Lady Boleyn; you can make a vast difference to her. And they want you, Thomasin. No one else, you! Think of the honour.”
“It sounds very much like you are trying to persuade me to do it.”
Giles’s face split into a grin. “Does it? Look, this must be entirely your decision. I will not seek to influence you either way. Why don’t you sleep on it and make your decision in the morning?”
“I will.” She put her arms about his neck and planted a kiss upon his lips. “Has anyone ever told you that you might be the perfect husband?”
“Not enough times,” he replied, returning her kiss. “I believe I could grow rather used to hearing it.”