More scooped up a pat of butter with a spoon. “Go on.”
“Since we discussed last year, it has fascinated me.”
“What is free will, and what is God’s grace? How far do we, as reformers, pursue the needs and ambitions of ourselves, and where does it conflict with the needs of society?”
Thomasin nodded. He had summed up her thoughts to the letter. “Well, yes.”
“And what do you conclude?”
“I don’t know if it’s possible to reach a conclusion. How can we really know what is our will, and what was intended?”
She thought of last night. Her decision to wait for Anne Boleyn had felt like an act of will, but her aim had been thwarted. Was that the result of circumstances or some divine plan? Had Rafe’s actions prevented her from presenting the letter for a reason? Perhaps to protect Catherine’s feelings? She looked to the queen now. Catherine was eating little, her face a picture of sadness as she listened to Bishop Mendoza.
“Take the queen,” Thomasin said, lowering her voice. “She believes it was God’s plan for her to marry and reign. She was prepared for it from the age of three, educated and guided, dispatched to England and widowed. Then she overcame great obstacles and has been queen for nineteen years. But King Henry now sees their lack of surviving sons as a punishment from God, the same God. They can’t both be right. Which one is following the true path, and which is exercising their will against it?”
More followed her eyes. Catherine had now turned to Bishop Fisher, who despite his sunken cheeks and grey appearance, had the sharpest wit of all the bishops at court.
“Perhaps there is no written plan,” More suggested. “Perhaps both of them are following their own will and God is more distant than we think. What if He does not direct us in such an involved way, but is at one remove, allowing us to make our own choices?”
“Without intervening in any way?”
“Trusting us as His creatures to make the right decision.”
“But what if we don’t know what the right decision is? Or if there are many conflicting right decisions?”
“We must all live according to our consciences.”
“As both King Henry and Queen Catherine are now doing, but there can be no resolution between their opposing views.”
More nodded. “No, there can’t, so as is always the case in conflict, each will dig their heels in, push and push until one side backs down. Usually the side with less power.”
Catherine was staring into the middle of the table, listening as Fisher reeled off a swathe of information. Thomasin got the impression he was advising her about the legalities of her situation.
“Is there nothing she can do?”
“Beyond submit to his will? She can keep holding out in the hopes of a change in his affections, or some circumstance beyond their control.”
“Like the sweat.”
“That ship has sailed, I think,” he replied.
Thomasin paused to eat, recalling how excited and happy Catherine had been yesterday afternoon.
“But I suspect you were not just thinking of the king and queen,” said More astutely. “It is a question that affects all our lives. Is there a personal matter that makes you ponder the circumstances of free will?”
Thomasin blushed. As usual, her companion had seen through her query. “It is central to all our lives, as you say.”
“You are happy serving the queen, despite her situation?”
“Indeed I am. Court can be a dangerous place, but I found that I missed it during my absence. I am grateful for the chance to serve my queen.”
“Then I suppose it must be a matter of the heart that moves you. No,” he said, raising a hand, “you are not obliged to confide in an old man, but if I may give general advice, the same tensions apply. Duty and desire. I believe we are happiest when we can make the two match. If we can make ourselves desire our duty, or else seek approval for our desires from those to whom we owe duty, that is the way to resolve the conflict.”
Thomasin felt the wisdom of his words.
“Think about it,” said More. “Marry the duty and the desire, and that is the path to happiness, both earthly and spiritual.”
Happiness. Thomasin turned the word over in her mind. That was the other question. Last year she had believed Rafe was the man who could truly satisfy her, body and soul, heart and mind. Hadn’t Queen Catherine started out with the same hopes, even though the match had been arranged for them? She had loved with all her heart, devoted herself to her husband, borne his children and lost them, been the best wife she could and overlooked his infidelities. Yet she had been pushed aside for a younger woman. The same was true of the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk.
