Chapter Twenty-Three #2
A table had been set out for them, with a white cloth, silver plate, candlesticks and glassware. Sir Thomas gestured towards the door for service and an array of dishes was laid before them, with silent hands filling their glasses.
“We have heard from Windsor,” he said, pulling his knife through a haunch of beef once the servants had departed and closed the door. “Tomorrow the court arrives here, and these rooms will be full to the rafters. So tonight is our last moment of peace. I hope you will enjoy it, Lady Waterson.”
“I shall, but I also seek to be of as much assistance as I can to the queen.”
“Oh, believe me,” he said, smiling, “she will require much assistance. I do not envy you the task.”
“And yet you employ me for it.”
He gave a short laugh. “Yes, I do! I employ you to do that which I cannot and would not. And I appreciate you all the more for it. One other thing: you may have heard that the king is in mourning, and so then, is the court. It makes things more difficult.”
“Mourning? For whom?”
“His sister, the Duchess of Suffolk. You had not heard?”
Thomasin thought of the duchess, who had previously been kind to her, and a friend to Catherine. She recalled her dancing and gentle presence.
“I am sorry to hear that.”
“It is almost two months since she passed. It means Suffolk will not be here. His companionship always soothes the king.”
Thomasin did not know what to say, so she sipped her wine, tasting notes of blackberries and peppercorns, which made her nose tingle.
“This is a Portuguese red,” Sir Thomas said, noting her response, “brought up from the cellars. Greenwich is especially well stocked. There is a good white Rhenish too, if you prefer.”
“No, this is very good,” she replied, replacing her glass.
“I have observed that you enjoy your food and drink, Thomasin,” he went on. “Not everyone does, and not every woman, certainly, but you have a lusty appetite and appreciate the finer flavours for their own sake, not just for the price of them. Do you get much chance to savour them in Suffolk?”
“We do very well in Suffolk, thank you.”
“You’re not regretting coming back?”
“Yes, I am,” Thomasin admitted, “but I am here.”
“Anne will appreciate it.”
“Will she? All her actions point to her intense dislike of me.”
“She is much changed. Her new position has forced her to grow up, although she is still adept at making enemies. Her uncle Norfolk is waiting in France until the child has been born, as he can’t abide her tongue.”
“She’s not that much changed, then.”
“You saw her before the coronation. Since then, her fears have only increased about the birth. She will try and put a brave face upon it, as you will see, but her quarrels with Henry have not helped.”
“Her quarrels with Henry?”
“Oh, yes. He has dallied with another woman, a mere trifle, I think, to amuse himself, but Anne takes it very seriously. She reprimanded him, though he is not just her husband but also her king. He put her in her place, telling her she should close her eyes as her betters had, and that he had raised her up and could cast her down again. They did not speak for a week after that.”
Thomasin was shocked and saddened to hear this. “I think if I was in that advanced state of pregnancy, I should also have been upset.”
“But you are not a queen, Thomasin. Queens cannot behave thus. Wives maybe, mistresses perhaps, but not queens, and not in full sight of the court!”
Thomasin picked at her meal.
“And there have been more arrests,” Sir Thomas went on.
“People in the streets, saying that the devil made her queen and that Norris is her lover, and that she will burn at Smithfield — all this and worse. The wife of the king’s old goldsmith lost her mind and kept crying out that Anne was a whore who must burn.
It’s always the same story, inspired by that maid Barton. ”
“What will happen to her?”
“Barton? She’ll burn eventually. Henry’s dragging his heels.”
Thomasin thought of the woman preaching in the street with such fervour.
Sir Thomas refilled his wine glass, then also Thomasin’s without asking her.
“Anne has a sharp tongue, I’ll grant that, and she has replaced a popular queen.
But Catherine could no longer bear children, and she was a Spaniard — don’t forget that.
I don’t understand why Anne inspires such hatred.
It is more than just her person they dislike.
People see her as a sign of decay, of the king being corrupted.
She is linked in their minds to his break with Rome.
You know the Pope has threatened to excommunicate him if he does not return to Catherine? ”
“I did not know. That is something to be taken seriously.”
“He will not. He is head of the Church in England and the Pope be damned. The Bishop of Rome!”
“It is much change for people to adjust to.”
“Do they wish to adjust to a kingdom without a male heir, and a return to civil war?”
Thomasin had no reply to this.
“All I ask of you is that whatever happens, you look to her health and calmness of mind. Do your best to pour balm on troubled waters.”
“I will do my best in that, I can promise you.”
“I knew you would.”
He smiled at her, perhaps overlong. “I do not think you have always liked me as a man, Thomasin. Perhaps you still do not.”
“I barely knew you, my lord.”
“Oh, that is not sufficient excuse. I stood between you and young Rafe Danvers once, I believe.”
“That is in the past now.”
“But you conceived a dislike before that, did you not?”
“As I said, I did not know you.”
“What do you want most in the world, Thomasin?”
He had put down his knife and was leaning back, looking at her.
“I cannot say. I think I already have it.”
“Nonsense. Besides the king, and Norfolk, I am the most influential man in England. Whatever you wish for, I can provide it. Lands, houses, gold, clothes? What do you desire?”
Thomasin shifted uneasily in her seat. “I desire to finish this good meal before it grows cold.”
He laughed. “Of course you do. But do not forget what I have said.”
There was something horribly compelling about him, despite everything. For a moment, a little flame inside her burned with ambition. What if she accepted his offer? Where might she go? What might she do with that amount of money? But then she shook it away.
The servants brought more wine, wafers, candied fruits and a syllabub of rose and cream. Rich delights for a rich man’s table.
When they had finished, Thomasin rose to her feet. It was dark outside the window and the scent of the roses below stole in upon the evening air.
“Thank you for that lovely dinner; I do appreciate your kindness. I should retire if I am to be ready for Anne’s arrival tomorrow.”
But Thomas was on his feet and crossing the room.
He took her by the hand. “Perhaps I am a foolish old man, letting the wine speak for me, but I must confess that I admire you, Thomasin. I am in a position to give you so much more than you might ever have dreamed of, if you are minded to look upon me kindly.”
“I do look upon you kindly, sir,” she replied, trying to recover her arm.
“I mean as a man, and you as a woman, Thomasin. And perhaps I can give you the thing you desire most.”
He was very close now. She could see the flecks in his eyes, the smooth hairs in his beard, mixed with grey. His mouth smelled of wine. It was a strange sensation to realise what he was suggesting.
“A child, Thomasin. I could give you a child. I am inviting you to share my bed.”
“Yes, my lord, I know.” She stepped away. “But I am a happily married woman.”
“So are many. And I am a happily married man. It is no barrier. My favour would bring you much advancement.”
“I would rather have your favour for my abilities than for sharing your bed, my lord.”
“You think me too old?”
“I love my husband. I thought you could see that.”
“I had hoped for more from you. There is no disrespect meant to your husband, or my wife, but life is not as simple as that. Think on it.”
“My lord, I will leave you now.”
“You will change your mind, Thomasin, when you consider what is involved.”
“Goodnight, my lord.”
With her heart racing, Thomasin hurried away to Anne’s empty apartments and into the women’s chamber.
A fire had been lit and one bed made up for her comfort, with cushions and a jug of wine, although she could not stomach any more that night.
Had he planned this all along? Was this his sole reason for bringing her back to court?
No, she was certain that he truly desired her assistance with Anne, and had chosen her for the qualities he’d described: her discovery of the traitor at Anne’s coronation convinced her of that.
She paused and took a long, slow breath.
Perhaps she should leave court at once, take a barge back to the city and collect her carriage from Monk’s Place to return to Suffolk.
She should not let any man speak to her that way, let alone such a powerful man, over whom she had little control.
To disappear at once would send him the right message.
But then other feelings boiled up inside her, like her old self; unpredictable, riotous.
To be the mistress of Sir Thomas Boleyn, father of the queen!
What dizzy heights she might ascend to, if she was so minded.
And yet, how he had misjudged her. How little he knew her, if he thought that she was anything other than devoted to Giles.
Yet perhaps that had been the attraction?
Her steadfastness, her loyalty, or worse still, perhaps he had seen it as a challenge?
As he’d said, he was one of the most powerful men at court, and yet he might have taken her rejection more to heart.
Another, less scrupulous man might have tried to force her, although she did not believe it was in Sir Thomas’s character to act that way.
No, she must remain respectful but firm towards him: she would have to walk a very fine line.
Blowing out her candle, Thomasin lay down to sleep, her mind in turmoil, wondering what the morning would bring.