“It would fall to you to choose your household,” urged Mary. “And if she is in it, I certainly will not be.”
“This is not a matter of my choosing, I assure you!” Thomasin confirmed. The thought of serving Anne grated upon her, not only because of her loyalty to Catherine, but also due to the combative, volatile nature of the Boleyns and her distrust of Anne.
“It is merely Mother’s fancy,” said Anne. “She will have forgotten it already.”
“Of course she will,” added her father, turning to Thomasin. “You have discharged your duty. We give you thanks for your pains.”
Thomasin bowed her head at his acknowledgement, but Thomas Howard was already closing the door. The last thing she saw was Rafe’s face, as the Boleyns were enfolded into their privacy again. She lingered outside the door for a moment, waiting to hear whether the argument would start up again, but there was silence.
She had barely turned away, when Thomasin heard the door open again behind her. She was surprised to see that Rafe had slipped out after her.
“I just have a moment,” he said, fixing those dark tapering eyes upon her face. “Thomasin, it is good to see you. That letter comes as a surprise.”
“It does. I had no idea that was what she had written.”
“It matters not. Like they said, she will have forgotten.” He glanced back to the chamber. “Hell has broken loose in here, due to your sister, I think.”
Thomasin shrugged. “I am not responsible for her behaviour. I do not condone what she did.”
“But maybe the outcome?”
“I do not wish to meddle in anyone else’s matters of the heart.”
“How about your own?” He stepped closer. “Thomasin, I have missed you. Can we not be close again?”
The attraction between them was undeniable. For a moment, the desire flickered up again. It would be easy as anything to lean in to his kiss, and let those passionate feelings overcome her again. She pulled away.
“I must get back. The queen expects me.”
“Is it because of that Italian?”
“He is Venetian.”
“A foreigner. How do you know you can trust him?”
“Please stop. I must return.”
“I am still here, Thomasin. I have not forgotten what we shared. Have you?”
She had not. Of course, she had not. But so many sensible reasons stood between her and desire. Why was it not possible to combine the behaviour of Nico with the passion of Rafe?
“It is good to see you, but you must not think of me that way,” she said. “I must return.”
“You have no feelings for me?”
She could not affirm that.
“Then you do?” he asked, clutching at her silence. “You do, I know it!”
“I must return. Let me go, Rafe.”
Her footsteps echoed down the corridor, just as the voices of the Boleyns started to rise again in discord.
At the approach to Queen Catherine’s chambers, a familiar figure stood waiting. Thomasin’s father was looking anxious and out of breath, still in his travelling clothes.
“What is this news?” He came pacing towards her, wringing his hands. “I was at the stables, about to depart, when a summons came from the queen. Something about Cecilia’s marriage? Do you know of this?”
“Unfortunately, I have just learned of it myself today. The queen has approved a marriage between Cecilia and Sir Hugh. Suffolk has brokered it.”
