Ellen put a hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “I will go. It will all be better in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
Thomasin turned to the open window for some relief. Night had fully fallen and the air was sweet and clean-smelling. On this side, the queen’s apartments overlooked the neighbouring friary and friars’ garden, which were joined by a gate to the orchard. The only lights were those gleaming from within the church windows, muted as the friars performed their late-night rituals. Thomasin breathed deeply, filling her lungs. She stood outlined in the window, with the cool air rushing over her.
Catherine was still being undressed, with complaints and groans, but Thomasin picked up her wine glass and blotted out the sound.
The evening had left a sour taste in her mouth. For the first time, she felt unhappy in the queen’s service, and she understood the reasons why. Tonight, she had been caught up in the tension between the three of them, the triangle of Henry, Catherine and Anne, even though she had always tried to act for the best. Being in the queen’s household at Windsor or Hampton was one thing, but here, with the Boleyns in attendance, the dynamic was completely different. She did not doubt there would be more uncomfortable scenes in the coming days.
If only the situation could be resolved, but Thomasin could not see any outcome other than that of suffering for her mistress.
Thomasin did not have to wait long before the tension surfaced again. The following morning, Catherine was cool and detached as her ladies dressed her in her best red velvet gown, carefully arranging her skirts and pinning her pearl headdress into place. Thomasin’s fingers worked swiftly, but she avoided meeting her mistress’s eyes and Catherine said very little, and nothing about their conversation the previous night. It was a fresh, cooler morning, and Catherine elected to break her fast in her chamber, in the company of Bishop Fisher, who had called to pay his regards.
Around mid-morning, Catherine and her ladies were returning from chapel when Thomas Boleyn turned down the corridor ahead. He gave a little pause of recognition, as if it had crossed his mind to turn away, but his pride, or etiquette, made him continue. Catherine glided towards him serenely, as if he was part of the stonework.
As Catherine approached, Boleyn stood aside and bowed, expecting her to pass by.
Instead, Catherine paused then spoke boldly. “Sir Thomas, send your daughter to attend upon me, as soon as possible.”
Boleyn’s face showed he was taken by surprise. “But, My Lady…”
“What?” Catherine turned to face him. “She is not too busy, or too important, to obey a summons from her queen?”
Boleyn knew when he was beaten. To defy Catherine openly would be to compromise his position. “I will pass on your message.”
“And your wife and daughter-in-law must come too. As ladies at court, they should have followed the custom of waiting on the queen.” She did not wait for his answer, but surged past, leaving him standing.
“My Lady, are you sure you want to have that family in your chamber?” asked Maria, as they approached the stairs.
Catherine held up a hand to silence her. “If she is with me, she cannot also be with him.”
It was three in the afternoon when stillness was broken by a knock upon the queen’s door.
Catherine was playing cards with Ellen, while Thomasin sat with Gertrude and Maria, sewing in the window seat. The afternoon had ticked past slowly. Thomasin, certainly, had felt tense with anticipation, and one look at Ellen, who kept making mistakes in the game, confirmed that she was feeling the same.
“Come,” called Catherine, not looking up from the cards splayed in her hand.
Everyone’s eyes except Catherine’s were on the door. It was opened by one of the guards from outside.
“Lady Mary, Countess of Essex and Lady Catherine Willoughby.”
As the pair entered, Maria gave a little cry of surprise and jumped up to embrace her daughter. The pair had been stuck at Windsor since the outbreak of the sweating sickness, only now able to travel to Greenwich to rejoin Catherine.
“Oh, what a pleasure to see you both,” said Catherine, rising to her feet in genuine delight. “I hope you are in good health and your journey was not too arduous.”
Mary curtseyed. “We are both well; neither of us succumbed, thanks be to God, and the sickness is now completely gone from Windsor.”
“That is wonderful news indeed,” said Catherine, smiling as Maria held her child close.
“Thank you, thank you,” said Maria, “for keeping her safe and bringing her to me.”
“She was good as gold,” smiled Mary, “no trouble at all.”
“That was a blessed action,” said Catherine.
Mary turned to Catherine. “We brought some of your books and a few more items from your wardrobe. Bishop Mendoza was also of our party, but he is now resting after the journey. His gout is causing him to suffer.”
“Of course. I shall visit the good bishop in due time but come, be seated, take some refreshment.”
