He nodded slowly. “Well enough. The sickness took a few, but I kept to my chamber, admitting only the one servant, in whom I trusted well enough. I have left bills unpaid…”
“Do not worry,” she replied. “They will be seen to.”
“The place was in chaos, I heard,” he continued. “Those ambassadors left in haste, leaving their goods behind them, for goodness knows where, then the castle was closed up. No one was permitted to leave and none to enter, save for the delivery of food. How did you manage at Hampton? I wrote there, but I dared say nothing of import, as I know the man Cromwell had oversight of all the letters.”
“Not quite all,” Catherine replied, “but I received none from you, none from his hands.”
“Is that true? Then he is the very devil. I wrote twice a week, offering sustenance, prayers, verses to fortify you.”
Catherine shook her head, her lips tightening. “No, I received no such letters. But your news alleviates my conscience somewhat regarding others. And those ambassadors are expected here tomorrow, where they shall come face to face with me again, and will need to make their apologies.”
“Here, tomorrow? Those dancing clowns?”
Thomasin tried to stifle her laugh.
“Those dancing clowns will be here,” Catherine smiled, “and we shall see how they dance for the king now, once their duplicity is exposed for all.”
“But be careful,” said Mendoza. “It is a delicate situation. We do not want to make an enemy of the Doge.”
“Not at all,” Catherine replied, “or else we should have no more supplies of golden lace,” and they laughed again.
“Is Mountjoy here?” asked the bishop, after a moment.
“I shall send him to you, shortly.”
Mendoza leaned forward in his chair, the firelight highlighting the lines etched in his face. “My Lady, for all our laughter, I do urge caution. I have received letters from friends in Rome. The Pope is a free man again, no longer under the control of your brother, but still in fear of him. Henry has been sending non-stop letters and ambassadors to plead his cause, but he prevaricates, pleads and weeps.”
“Weeps?” asked Catherine. “My husband has made the Pope weep?”
“So my sources claim.”
“I am almost undone by this knowledge,” she replied, profoundly moved. “I cannot but think of the danger to his soul, his immortal soul. We must pray for him, and for the removal of the terrible Boleyn woman who has brought him to this.”
“I have prayed for his delivery and yours day and night, My Lady.”
“Thank you. We shall do so tonight, and again in the chapel come morning. It is a wicked thing indeed to see a once great king so ensnared by temptation that he imperils his very soul.”
With a pause in the conversation, Thomasin felt emboldened to speak. “My Lady, if I may, we overheard George Boleyn at table, saying that the ambassador was expected back any day. He called him Foxe?”
Catherine nodded. “Edward Foxe, Bishop of Hereford, Wolsey’s man, of course, and I believe Stephen Gardiner was also sent with him. So they are due back soon? They are already in England?”
“It may be so. Boleyn seemed to think their arrival imminent, Foxe at least.”
“They must have achieved something, to be returning so soon. I wonder what the Pope has to say on the matter. Well, we shall see.” Catherine rose and pressed the bishop’s hands again. “I will have more firewood and wine sent to you, and will visit you again in the morning. There is an apothecary here, too, so do not hesitate to order anything you require; it will be added to my account.”
“I thank you, gracious lady.”
Catherine drew her skirts around her. “Come, ladies, let us take a little air in the park before we retire.”
It was a beautiful summer’s evening. The air was mild and sweet as the birds swooped low, seeking their roosts and mates, filling the trees with their chatter. Thomasin breathed in the scent of grass and flowers, undercut by the freshness of water, a constant reminder of the proximity of the river. A line of trees in full leaf shaded their path. The land rose up to the hunting lodge behind, a curious red-brick building that Thomasin was interested to explore.
“The view from up there must be wonderful,” she nodded to Ellen. “You must be able to see all along the river.”
“It’s a fair climb, but worth it, I am sure.”
“I am looking forward to the tilt tomorrow.”
“And the arrival of the Venetians,” Ellen added with a wicked glint in her eye. “I wonder how they will be treated.”
