Brandon rose to his feet. “Now we must tie these ends up and conduct a marriage, to reward our happy servant. Come,” he said to Cecilia, “let us speak of the arrangements and make it as speedy as possible, as you have deserved.”
A marriage? Thomasin wondered at the words.
A huge smile spread across Cecilia’s face. “I can’t wait to be mistress of Raycroft.”
Thomasin’s stomach lurched as the words struck her ears. Hugh Truegood? Cecilia was to marry Hugh. This was what had lain behind Brandon’s efforts to detach him from Ellen; he was to be the reward for the loss of Cecilia’s virtue.
“Raycroft?” she stammered, looking wildly to Ellen, but her cousin had frozen, her eyes closed. “Must it be so?”
“A most suitable match,” boomed Brandon. “Two young people of the right age and sort, a match that greatly pleases the queen.”
“Don’t look alarmed,” added Cecilia. “It is all very new, very sudden, and Father doesn’t even know yet, but he will be delighted, I am sure.”
“But…” stuttered Thomasin, looking from her to Ellen and back again.
Her sister didn’t read her desperate cues, or else ignored them, taking Brandon’s extended hand as he led her to the table.
Then Lady Howard’s voice rang out, as clear as a bell. “One more thing.”
The group all turned and looked back to her again. She was standing, looking proud and fierce, holding up something in her hand. A piece of paper, folded and addressed.
There was no doubt. Thomasin recognised Lady Boleyn’s missing letter at once. Her insides turned cold. Lady Howard was staring straight at her.
“Here we have a letter addressed to Anne Boleyn,” the fiery little woman announced, turning to address the room. “Someone in the queen’s household has been corresponding with that woman!”
A gasp ran round the room. Queen Catherine herself stood up, frowning. “Give that to me.” She took the letter and turned it over in her jewelled hands. Thomasin noticed with relief that the seal was unbroken, so the contents had not been read. “What could this mean? How did you come by it, Duchess?”
“I found it, hidden under the cushion of a chair, where someone had thought no one would look. Goodness knows what intrigues it might contain. Perhaps the writer even warned Anne of our plan.”
The thought of this hung in the air. Thomasin could hear them wondering, turning a simple matter into a conspiracy. Her palms turned clammy.
The queen examined the letter. “Let us be calm and proceed with caution. It may be nothing of the kind. I do not know the hand. Who would have brought such a thing here, into my chamber?”
“Should we open it?” asked Maria. “See what it says? Then we may have our answer.”
“No,” said Catherine at once. “There is a sanctity about a sealed letter. It would be wrong to do so.”
“More wrong than Anne’s attempts to usurp your crown and marital bed?” Lady Howard asked.
“It’s mine,” burst out Ellen, suddenly. “I was charged to deliver it.”
Thomasin could not have her cousin take the blame for her. “No,” she said, drawing all eyes to her. “This is not Ellen’s fault; she seeks to protect me. It’s my letter. I was charged to deliver it to Anne and, lacking the opportunity, I tucked it under the cushion in the antechamber.”
“You?” Catherine’s face was a picture of bewilderment.
“You?” echoed Lady Howard. “I never trusted you! No doubt you have been planning with the Boleyns all this time, sharing the queen’s secrets!”
Thomasin was aghast. Ignoring the duchess, she turned instead to Catherine. “There is nothing sinister in this matter, my Lady, I give you my word. On our way to London from the country, my family suffered an accident in our carriage, which required a smith. It was pouring with rain and we were forced to shelter at the nearest house, which happened to be Hever. We were most grateful for the hospitality of Lady Boleyn, who was the only family member present. Upon our departure in the morning, she bid me deliver this letter to her daughter, a task which I did not invite and which made me feel uncomfortable, but which I felt obliged to fulfil after her kindness.”
The whole room was staring at Thomasin.
“My cousin speaks the truth,” said Ellen. “I was also present on the journey and stayed at Hever, and I saw Lady Boleyn hand her the letter.”
Catherine was eyeing the pair dubiously.
“My Lady, you have no cause to doubt my loyalty,” urged Thomasin. “I have ever been your true servant, such as you yourself believed this summer when you made me the gift of a ring, upon the discovery of the Venetian plot. The presence of this letter here is more confirmation that I value your Ladyship more highly than I ever have the Boleyns. Had I been in their service, I would simply have delivered it upon my arrival here. It was out of concern for my Lady’s feelings that I held it back, unwilling to cause you pain or do a service to those who cause you harm.”
“So she says,” burst out Lady Howard with spite. “The letter might contain anything at all. Until it is opened, we do not know its secrets.”
