“The ground may be a little wet,” said her father, appearing beside her, “but it appears that the storm has passed.”
He looked tired, Thomasin thought, as if he had not slept well, or his mind was preoccupied.
“Not too wet, I hope,” she replied. “Will you be able to sleep in the carriage again?”
He looked at her, reading into her words. “You are right, I am tired. Your mother was keen to explain all her plans for us at court to me last night, and you can imagine it took a long time. This visit has given her new confidence in Cecilia’s reception.”
“I hope it will be as she wishes. Time has passed. There are fresher scandals, and the sweating sickness has erased many memories. With any luck no one will remember what happened last year, or else they will not care.”
“I think so long as we remain quietly in the background, no big speeches, no masques, no dramas, all will be well.” But then Sir Richard saw his daughter’s smile. “I know, you think me too optimistic? Your mother will push her forward regardless of what I advise.”
“Perhaps there may be limited opportunities to attend court? If there is plenty to keep them busy at Monk’s Place?”
He caught her meaning at once. “I think you might be right. Visits to dressmakers and confectioners can take a long time.”
They stared out together across the park. A pair of birds were swooping low, dipping down over the trees.
“And you? How are you, Thomasin? Are you looking forward to returning to court?”
Thomasin watched the birds settle on the branch of an old oak. “I am. I like being in the queen’s service.”
“That is good. I am pleased it is working out well for you. Is there anything else?” His voice faltered.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I hope I do not speak out of turn, but it is my duty as a father to raise this matter.”
“What is it, Father?”
“You are the same age now as when we arranged Cecilia’s marriage. Yes, the doomed one. But do you ever think of it? Is marriage something that appeals to you?”
Thomasin was taken aback. “I … I … no, it’s not something I have thought of. I am content as I am, serving the queen.”
Her father nodded. “But at some point, perhaps, you will consider it?”
“I am not averse to it, certainly, if the right man were to present himself.”
Sir Richard laughed. “The right man. How like you, Thomasin. I wonder who the right man could be?”
She smiled, with the events of the past year crowding in upon her. Who indeed? She thought of the likely candidates. Not the first man to touch her heart. Rafe Danvers was dark, seductive and compelling, yet he’d proved himself to be a creature of the Boleyns, always serving them first, no matter whom he hurt.
Then there had been Giles Waterson, a distant cousin on her mother’s side, who made her laugh, his smile concealing private sorrow, and had stood by them so stoically during Cecilia’s disgrace. He had ridden with her to Windsor, when she entered Queen Catherine’s service, but now she heard he was in the north, and rumour added that he had acquired a fiancée. She missed his friendship. And that of gentle Will Carey, whom she must pass over with regrets, God rest his soul.
Then her mind turned to the dazzling Nico Amato, one of the Venetian ambassadors, who had such charm, such suave good looks and elegance, with his golden dancing eyes. He had distanced himself from his countrymen and, with her assistance, gained a position as clerk within Cardinal Wolsey’s household. Perhaps their paths would cross again at court.
“The right man,” she repeated softly. “Does such a thing exist?”
“It is something I could look into for you.”
“Thank you, but I am quite content, for now.”
“For now.”
Out of the entrance behind them came Thomasin’s mother and Hugh Truegood, followed by Cecilia and Ellen.
“It has been wonderful,” Lady Elizabeth was gushing, her arm linked through her host’s, “but far too short a time to form a proper acquaintance. I do hope we shall see you soon at court.”
“I plan to attend, yes,” he replied, his chestnut eyes warm with kindness, “as the king depends upon me for a tournament he plans to hold at the end of this month. I must complete my affairs here, and be certain that Mother can be left again.”
