Chapter 26 #2
When it was over, Thomasin took her seat beside Jane Dudley in the great hall.
John was to be a server, carving the meat for the newly wedded couple who sat together at the dais with Henry and Anne.
Brightly coloured hangings had been unfurled from the walls, below a line of austere-looking stone statues of past kings.
The Boleyn family and their friends sat on a different table, so Thomasin at least felt safe until Rafe entered with Jane Boleyn on his arm, and headed for a place beside Anne’s sister, Mary, who was casting her eyes around the room, letting them briefly rest on Thomasin.
The spite in her eyes was palpable before she turned away.
She had never forgiven Thomasin for the affection her husband William Carey had developed for her, in the weeks before his early death from the sweating sickness.
Out of the corner of her eye, Thomasin saw Mary lean in to whisper a few words in Rafe’s ear as he sat down.
Thomasin turned her attention back to the food being laid in front of her, but was certain that Rafe turned to see where she sat.
She could almost feel his eyes boring into her skin, a most unpleasant sensation.
“What a wonderful spread,” she said to Jane Dudley, trying to appear oblivious to the attention she was receiving. “Would you pass me that dish of goose in green sauce, please?”
After the meal, the guests made their way back to the pier in order to board the barges. Thomasin had placed herself as far away as possible from the royal party, behind the large group of Dudleys, Bassets and Grenvilles who now found themselves related.
“Thomasin Marwood,” said a familiar voice behind her, causing Thomasin to turn round.
Rafe was standing between Mary Boleyn and Anne Gainsford, his face spoiled by a dark sneer. Thomasin knew at once that she had made the right choice. She would have turned away without acknowledging him, but he spoke again.
“Did you enjoy the ceremony?”
It was impossible not to answer, with so many wedding guests around, but she kept it as brief as possible. “Thank you, yes.”
“As did we,” he said, indicating the women around him, as if attempting to demonstrate his popularity with them, “but we were surprised to find you here and not tending to your dear cousin.”
Thomasin thought at once of Ellen. Had something happened? “What do you mean?”
“After the accident?” He looked at his friends again for confirmation, then back to her. “You mean you do not know?”
“Know what? Do not play with me.”
“It was your cousin, Giles,” said Anne, the most sympathetic character of the three. “He had a fall while out riding this morning. We saw him carried into the palace on a stretcher as we were leaving.”
Thomasin went cold. For a moment she was unable to speak.
“No,” said Rafe, his voice strangely strained. “It appears she did not know.”
Then, suddenly, she found her feet. Pushing past them, Thomasin hurried straight to the water’s edge. A boat was loading up with passengers.
“Bridewell?” she asked one of the rowers, impatient.
“No, Southbank. Try the next,” he offered.
Her mind racing, Thomasin looked around wildly for the next barge in line, only to see that it was the royal vessel, with its flags and pennants flapping in the breeze.
There was no way she would find a seat there.
Henry and Anne were already making their way down to the waterfront, with the guests parting to create a pathway, bowing and curtseying.
She was forced to do the same as they passed her.
She hurried round the back of the crowd to the further spot where the third barge was waiting to dock.
It seemed to take forever for the boats to fill, and she noticed Rafe taking his place ahead of her, alongside the king and Anne.
All she could think of was getting to Giles.
What if he lay injured and in pain, or dying?
Thomasin was the first on the steps as the barge finally pulled close.
She jumped in without waiting to be asked, seating herself close to the front, as if that could somehow make a difference.
The other guests took forever to embark, wobbling and laughing, while she sat there in turmoil.
Eventually, they set sail to the sound of trumpets and pipes, battling against the current.
The day would soon fade; the dinner hour was approaching, and Thomasin was due back at the queen’s side.
At last, the bulk of Bridewell became visible after the long stretch of mansion gardens, and they were within reach of the steps.
Thomasin had to wait again as others disembarked, willing herself to remain calm, resisting the urge to call out and barge past them.
She had left the Dudleys behind and would have to find them and apologise another time.
But when she finally set foot on dry land again, she realised she had no idea where she might find Giles.
Which rooms were his? Or perhaps he was being nursed elsewhere?
She ran into the courtyard, causing those around her to look at her strangely, wondering what the emergency was. By a twist of fate, the first face she recognised was that of William Hatton, who was exercising a pair of lively spaniels.
“Mr Hatton!” She hurried towards him, panting. “Please do me a kindness. Where would I find my cousin, Giles Waterson?”
“Goodness, Mistress Marwood, what is the matter?”
“I just need to find Giles. Please.”
“Come this way.” He turned round and passed through an archway, Thomasin in close pursuit, before pointing to a distant staircase. “Up there, third floor, the final door on the corridor. The men’s quarters.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
Thomasin hurried, panting, up three flights of steps to the top, where a narrow corridor was lit with torches.
It was cool and quiet, with no guards, but not a place a lady such as her should be unaccompanied.
She could not help herself, but ran the length of it, before hammering on the final door, hoping that Hatton’s instructions had been correct.
“Enter.”
The room was small, with merely a bed, a chest, a small table, a single window and a chair by the fire, in which Giles sat. He looked startled at the sight of Thomasin, as she took in his loose gown and the bound foot, which rested upon a stool.
“Thomasin?”
“Giles! You are … I mean … you aren’t…?”
A smile crept over his face. “I take it you have heard about my fall. Yes, I am alive, if that is what you feared.”
“I had no idea. What happened?”
“My horse was startled in the street and threw me upon the cobbles. I have a few bruises and a twisted ankle, but it could have been far worse.”
Relief flooded through her.
“But you have been at the wedding?”
“Yes, I was. I did not know about this, or I would have come sooner. I thought… I feared…”
He held out his hand to her. “Come closer. All is well.”
She went and took his hand without thinking.
“You were worried.”
“I didn’t know what to think. I was only told that you had an accident and were carried back on a stretcher.”
“Yes, I was advised not to put weight on my foot, but Dr Butts has been, and all it requires is poultices and rest.”
“Well, I am relieved to hear it. I imagined all kinds of things.”
“Did you, Thomasin?” He was looking at her very intently with his blue-green eyes. She felt her emotions conflicting, with part of her screaming to run away. “Why do you think that was?”
Suddenly her words would not come.
“It is almost as if you care for me, Thomasin, as more than a cousin?”
She could only stare back at him, open-mouthed as the truth of his words seeped through her.
Holding the back of his seat, Giles pushed himself up to a standing position, so his face was level with hers. “I could almost believe that you care for me the same way that I do for you. I love you, Thomasin. I think I have for a long while, only I did not realise it until lately.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, gently at first, but when she did not pull away, his lips became more urgent.
The kiss had taken Thomasin by surprise, but it seemed to wake her from sleep, shaking her into a realisation she had been denying.
It felt right — different from Rafe’s kisses, but exactly what should happen.
Giles pulled back briefly and looked at her. “You do feel the same?”
The admission sprang to her lips at once. “Yes, I do. I know that I do!”
“I think I felt it the first time we met, two years ago, but I thought it a passing fancy, and we were cousins, although your mother had hopes for us. While I was away in the north, I found myself thinking of you often, as I went about my business, and since my return, every occasion that I have seen you has filled me with a conviction that there is no other woman I would choose. You must have guessed, Thomasin? Everything I have done for your family, I have done for your sake, as a mark of my devotion to you. I looked for signs in you, Thomasin, that you might return my feelings, but sometimes I thought you shied away from me, until today, that is.”
“I did not realise my feelings until today. I knew your worth at once. I saw, long ago, that you were the truest and best of men, quite deserving of my love, but I feared getting close to you. I must tell you, I have trusted men before, and been betrayed by them, and I’ve seen the same happen to my sister and cousin, and to the queen.
I feared giving my heart away, only for it to be broken. ”
“I would never hurt you, Thomasin. I have only the most honourable of intentions.”
“Of course you do, but I still doubted … whether a man and woman might be happily married for their lifetimes, in such an atmosphere as this.”
“Then let us prove it. I mean it, Thomasin; let us be the example. We will live quietly, away from court, among those we love, enjoying the simple pleasures of everyday life, raising a family, tending our estates, doing what good we can in the world. All you need to do is say yes.”
“You are asking me to marry you?”
“Yes, Thomasin,” he said, laughing. “Marry me. Be my wife. What do you say?”
She did not need a minute to think. “Yes, a thousand times yes!”
He laughed, his eyes shining, and pressed his lips against hers. “I never thought I could be as happy as in this moment. But when does your father depart for Suffolk? I must ask his permission.”
“On the morrow, so you had better be quick.”
“Ah.” He pointed down at his foot. “Quick is one thing I cannot be. I will take a carriage first thing, if you will be available to assist me?”
“Of course.”
“You do not mind marrying an invalid?”
“Oh, you will be quite well enough when the time comes to walk down the aisle, I am sure.”
“Nothing on earth will stop me!”
“You are…” she began, faltering, “not afraid to marry into a family that has suffered such misfortunes as mine?”
“My darling Thomasin, there is nothing so shameful in your family that could deter me. I have made your family struggles my own, but it is nothing more than that your sister has fallen in love with an unsuitable man, and that is something that might befall even the wisest of people.”
She thought briefly of Rafe, with his cruelty, jealousy and arrogance. She had felt intoxicating passion for him, but his behaviour had destroyed all her finer emotions. How little Rafe had anticipated this outcome when he had taunted her with Giles’s accident.
“Such feeling is infatuation, not love. Love comes from respect, kindness and understanding.”
“And impatience! Let us be married as soon as we can. I can’t wait until you are Mrs Waterson.” He pressed his lips to hers again.