“Yes,” she murmured. “A queen would be. How do you like being in service?”
“Very well.”
“I expect it is very quiet and dull.”
“Dignified and peaceful, to be exact.”
“It is not so long since I was hoping you might enter mine.”
“My sister too, if I recall.” Thomasin could not stop the retort escaping her lips, although she knew it was ill-advised to start a quarrel.
Anne laughed unpleasantly. “Your sister too, once, as she appeared keen to play the game of love, but she turned out less adept at it than I had hoped.”
The rage boiled over in Thomasin. She knew her own passions well, and it was best to walk away from Anne right now, before she risked slighting someone of higher standing than herself.
She turned and bumped straight into Carey, returning after slaking his thirst.
“Have you changed your mind about dancing?”
“I must get some air. I am suddenly unwell.”
Over her shoulder, he saw the reason at once, and communicated his sympathy with his eyes.
Turning their backs on the hall, they passed through the far doors and out into the courtyard. By the central fountain, Thomasin paused to get her breath.
Carey looked at her in concern. “What did she say? Her sharp tongue has become intolerable of late.”
Thomasin nodded. “I had to leave before I spoke out of turn.”
“What did she say?”
“Something touching my sister.”
He nodded. “Of course. She is trying to reassert herself, afraid she has lost her influence while the king and queen have been together.”
“Has she?”
He sighed. “Who can say? The king hardly looks moved by her tonight. It is long since I kept up with the changing emotions of that family. Shall we head this way? The gate takes us to the rose garden.”
Thomasin accepted his arm.
They walked through the fresh evening, with the last rays of light bleeding behind the trees. Inside the garden, the gravel walks were threatened by encroaching greenery, newly sprung before the gardeners came to tame it. The air smelt clean and full of life. An occasional rose had opened its petals but most were still in bud.
“You were not too upset by her, I hope?”
“I will recover.”
“You will have seen,” he offered, “that I am not highly valued by that lady or her family. It is my own fault, in part.”
“I’m sure that cannot be the case.”
“For years I stood by, did not question or challenge, accepted my lot with gratitude, although I did not know then how high the family would rise. I feel less of a man for it.”
Thomasin was silent, unsure how to respond to his confession. “Oh, no, that last part is not true.”
“Wait before you decide that. My marriage was an arrangement that suited us both at the time. Eight years ago. I was close to the king, so I complied. I come from a disgraced Lancastrian line, not so far back.”
They turned to follow the curve of the path.
