The room fell still. All eyes were turned upon the window seat. For a moment, Thomasin thought that Anne would refuse.
“I will fetch it,” offered Jane softly, barely within earshot.
But Anne shook out her dark hair under her bonnet and rose to her feet. Without a word, she walked across the floor, lithely, with grace, plucked up the wine and brought it back to the card table. Without so much as a glance at Catherine, she filled her glass, then that of her mother. Then she returned the jug and resumed her seat, still full of grace, as if she had been rehearsing the steps of a dance.
Catherine did not touch the wine, nor thank Anne, but played on.
Thomasin and Ellen sewed steadily and the lutist continued to pluck.
Presently, Catherine looked up. “Let us widen the game into two pairs. Anne and Jane, will you join us? I hear the Lady Anne is a most dedicated player.”
“Oh, My Lady,” blustered Jane, “I have no skill for it, and no one should be made to partner me, for I always lose. Pray forgive me.”
“She speaks the truth,” added Anne, in a cynical tone. “I won five pounds from her the other night.”
“Of course she speaks the truth,” said Catherine at once, swift as a blade, “because she is speaking to her queen.”
“I will join, and make up the four,” said Thomasin, rising and putting her sewing down, hoping to defuse the tension. It was a game she had learned during the long winter months at Windsor. She took a seat opposite Anne, partnering her as Catherine and Lady Boleyn made the other pair.
The first hand she was dealt was weak. One knave of clubs, but the rest were small numbers. It was not going to win her any tricks, and she hoped Anne had better cards in her possession. She looked up at her partner, whose dark eyes were cast down upon the table, with the air of a contained animal.
Catherine took the first trick but Anne claimed the following two, then Lady Boleyn won another. Thomasin was poised to play her knave, in the hope that she may win the round, but it sat uneasily with her. It was only a card game, she told herself, but it meant that she was siding with Anne against Catherine. Still, she had few hands left, and it meant nothing really. She lay down her knave upon Catherine’s ten of clubs. Lady Boleyn threw away a three in the same suit. Anne was the last to play.
It was a surprise to all when she placed the queen of clubs over Thomasin’s knave. The trick was already theirs.
Thomasin looked up at her sharply.
“I had no choice,” replied Anne with nonchalance. “It is the lowest of my remaining cards.”
“I see the Lady Anne will not stop at a knave,” said Catherine, “but she will have a king if she can.”
Her implication was unavoidable. Yet if it shocked her, Anne merely twitched her lips and returned to her hand.
Piqued, Catherine turned to Anne’s mother. “Lady Boleyn, you are to be commended for having raised such, what is the word, such loyal daughters. So loyal they would do anything to advance their family. First the one, then the other.”
It had been before her time, but even Thomasin understood that she was referring to Mary Boleyn preceding Anne as royal mistress.
“And such a blessing,” continued Catherine, “that the younger does not mind treading where the elder has already been.”
The sting in her words was sharp. Lady Boleyn blushed a deep shade of red. Anne, though, put down her cards and rose from the table.
“What means this?” Catherine asked at once. “You have not been given leave to rise.”
Anne’s face was pale but set within it, her eyes were large and dark. “I am indisposed.”
“Enough that you are unable to finish the game you started?”
“The game is making me indisposed.”
“Then you would be well advised to withdraw and consider the wisdom of engaging yourself with more experienced players.”
Anne shot a look to her mother, but Lady Boleyn’s eyes would not offer her consolation. Rather, they seemed to suggest this was a situation of her own making. She dropped a curtsey, but as she rose, added plainly, “I will take my leave. I am sure experience is a great advantage, but there are some offices that only youth can perform.”
The others could only gasp after her as the green and white dress sashayed out of the room.
“My Lady, my deepest apologies,” began Lady Boleyn. “This is a strange situation, indeed, and not of my choosing.”
Catherine waved her away, and Lady Boleyn hurried after her daughter, with Jane bringing up the rear.
