Sir Matthew refused to take affront. “Very well. Then I wish us all God speed in this case.” He gave a brief nod, and they left the Astons in peace.
“Goodness, what a self-important fool,” pronounced Sir Richard. “To throw back such generosity in your face. Him, a nobody, from nowhere. Let us hope he treats the king in the same manner, then this matter will be resolved today.”
“It was strange,” said Sir Matthew. “He looked afraid.”
“You are too generous,” corrected Sir Richard. “It was downright insolence, nothing more.”
Thomasin looked back at the Astons, who had bent their similar heads together and were whispering animatedly. There was something that set them apart; their social difference, obviously, but also the very strong connection they shared. And that aloofness, whether it was fear or insolence, was disappointing, but it was also intriguing. Did Gilbert Aston really think he might stride into court and take exactly what he wanted, with no assistance?
“Borrowed robes, too,” added Sir Richard. “We could at least have advised them there, had them over to dine.”
“It is their choice,” Sir Matthew replied. “We have done our duty; now we must let the law run its course.”
Ellen was beckoning Thomasin.
“It looks like the queen requires my presence,” Thomasin apologised to her father and uncle. “But we shall meet again soon.”
“Is that Ellen?” asked Sir Matthew. “Is she well?”
“Well, but uncertain, I think, of her welcome with you.”
“She is always welcome,” he replied quickly. “Has the matter between her and Barnaby not been concluded?”
“It has not, to the best of our knowledge, and she has the most particular reason for wishing it to be.”
“I will write to Barnaby, asking him to pursue the matter. She was a good daughter-in-law, a little too fond of ribbons, but she did not deserve the wrong he did her.”
“Thank you,” said Thomasin, “she will appreciate that.”
Ellen was waving again, as Queen Catherine was rising to her feet, heading towards the king with Bishop Mendoza at her side.
“I must obey the summons. Oh, and More is here, I breakfasted with him just now. Until next time.”
Catherine stood facing Henry. A humble man was on his knees before the king, cap in his hand, as he spoke of the difficulties experienced by his business. Catherine waited until he had finished and handed over his petition, with a final desperate plea.
Henry did not look at the scroll but passed it over to Wolsey, who stood at his side. “I will see that the matter gets looked at.”
The man in grey hurried away, although there was immediately another, then another, moving forward to take his place.
Henry turned to Catherine. His narrowed eyes and thin lips indicated his barely concealed impatience.
“My good Lord,” she began, “I wish to beg your gracious forbearance in a matter relating to a ship of Spanish sailors, who were forced to surrender at the port of Rye. Their captain has been corresponding with Bishop Mendoza to help retrieve the goods taken from them, or receive the equal amount in compensation.”
Henry looked from her to Mendoza, amazed at their intrusion.
“My Lord?”
Henry was forced to answer civilly before the crowd. “Spaniards were in our waters, you say?”
“On legitimate business, trading with our ports.”
“What reason did the customs give for the confiscation of goods?”
“No reason, my Lord, other than that they were Spanish.”
“Why do they not come here and speak for themselves?”
“They are falsely imprisoned in the castle at Rye. Will you extend them your justice and mercy, as foreign traders in your realm, and permit the bishop to write under your authority, to redress these wrongs?”
