“I professed myself satisfied with a beautiful, lively wife, whose star was on the ascendant, but I turned a blind eye each night she was conducted to the king’s bed.”
Thomasin was not shocked, but the words were brutal to hear.
“I thought it temporary, that she would return to me in time. I told myself I was doing it for the king, or because I loved her. But I have never had the love of my wife. After the king tired of her, there were other men. We live most of the year apart. My children are such on paper alone.”
“I am sorry.”
He shook his head. “It has been my misfortune. My cross to bear.”
“I am still sorry for it.”
“Thank you. But now the Boleyns seem set to rise further, I find myself caught. Rise with them or keep my distance.”
“Surely the king will value you for your own sake, as a gentleman of his chamber?”
“I hope so. To be honest, I have spent the last two decades serving Queen Catherine. It is hard to see her treated thus, although it would do me no good to voice my thoughts.”
“It is a time when people must practise diplomacy.”
“Which is why you walked out of the hall.”
Thomasin nodded, smiling slightly. “I will be missed soon.”
“You have a few more minutes, I think. Catherine will not leave the hall while Anne remains. She will leave them no chance to spend time together in her absence.”
“Will it work?”
Carey shook his head. “Most likely it will only prolong the pain. Unless she is hoping Anne will give up, in which case she does not understand Anne’s character.” He turned to the sky. “See, a sliver of moon.”
“Like the mark of a fingernail on the sky,” she added poetically.
He gave a short laugh, looking at her intently. “And what of you, Mistress Marwood? What are your hopes? A husband with a title? A country estate and children?”
“You missed the most important thing off the list.”
“What is that? Money? Fine dresses? No, that is not you. Happiness; I’ll bet you want a happy marriage above all.”
“You are not far wrong,” she admitted. “I hope one day to be able to love the man I call husband.”
“Then you will be the envy of many, but no more so than he would be. It would be a fortunate man indeed who could win your love, Thomasin.”
His use of her forename surprised her. The air was turning chilly, but his eyes showed his desire to keep her outside for longer.
“I must return to the queen; my time is not my own.”
“Of course, let me accompany you. I apologise for having kept you, for pouring out my private matters.”
“Not at all.” She took the arm he offered. “There is no apology needed. You may speak freely with me.”
“Perhaps I will,” he said wistfully, “one day.”
Outside the hall, Ellen was waiting. She hurried up as she saw Thomasin approach. “There you are! The queen noticed your absence and sent me to find you. She is taken ill and has retired to her chamber.”
Thomasin felt uncomfortable, caught out in the neglect of her duty.
“It is entirely my fault,” added Carey. “I detained her without thought; I send my apologies to the queen. No harm was meant.”
“Hurry now,” Ellen urged, and Thomasin picked up her skirts and followed after her.
