“Me too. An errand, I mean. I’ve just come from Durham House. The king made me take a letter out to Anne at first light and wait for a reply, but she has woken, read it, and sent me back empty-handed. I dare not tell him!”
Thomasin’s ears pricked up. This was interesting information to take back to Catherine. “So she is still angry with him? What was it that they quarrelled about?”
“The usual. The divorce, or lack of it. Anne sees the time passing. She starts to lose faith in the process of the courts.”
“Perhaps she should set her sights elsewhere.”
Rafe laughed. “Do you want to be the one to tell her that?”
“No, quite.”
“Can I walk you in?”
She nodded and they headed back towards the palace.
“I couldn’t help but notice you in the gardens the other day with that Italian,” Rafe suddenly said in a rush. “I’m sorry if I speak out of turn. I don’t mean to chide you. I simply noticed that he was, how do I say it, very attentive.”
“Yes,” said Thomasin, smiling, “I suppose he is.”
“And you don’t mind?”
“Why should I mind? He asked my permission to pay court to me, and I granted it.”
Rafe stopped briefly and brushed the dark hair out of his eyes. It was a gesture she had once found endearing. “He asked your permission?”
“Yes, he did.”
“How very formal. I thought the Italians had hotter blood than that.”
“He’s a Venetian. And his blood is quite hot enough, thank you.”
They had reached the point where they would need to part ways: Rafe to the king’s chamber, Thomasin to the queen’s.
“So it’s serious between you two, then?”
Thomasin couldn’t deny the sneaking sense of satisfaction that he cared.
“Not serious exactly, but we are becoming better acquainted.”
“But why him?”
She smiled. “He is passionate and respectful, a gentleman and a romantic, considerate and driven.”
“I suppose I can’t claim to be half those things.”
“I hadn’t really thought to compare you,” she lied. “You are you, and he is he. That’s all there is to it.”
“Well, I shall be watching him, to make sure…”
“That won’t be necessary,” she replied quickly. “You are not my father. Now, I had better hurry back to the queen before I am missed. Good day, Rafe.”
Thomasin had not quite reached the end of the great hall when she saw two figures engaged in what appeared to be an intense conversation in the doorway. Gilbert Aston was angry about something and while his sister did her best to calm him, he reacted to every gentle word, every calming touch, with pent-up fury. Ursula tried again, speaking softly to him, but he broke away from her, shaking his arm away and sending her staggering backwards. In that moment, her eyes met those of the approaching Thomasin. A silent appeal screamed out of them.
Thomasin redirected her route so as to pass by them. They became still at her approach. Gilbert turned away.
“Ah, good morning, Mr Aston, Miss Aston,” she began, seeking something in her mind that might help. She needed an excuse to speak with the woman alone. “Miss Aston, I wish I might have a word with you. I’ve been meaning to do so, as you are a woman new at court, and there are a couple of practical things I would share with you.” She looked to Gilbert, then back to Ursula. “For your comfort, as a fellow woman. Might we speak in the gardens for a moment?”
“We are waiting for our case to be heard,” said Gilbert, with force.
