“Sir Hugh Truegood? Of Raycroft? I had no idea. I thought Ellen…”
“Indeed. The only reason for our recent invitation to Raycroft was the affection shared between Hugh and Ellen, but he has been quite talked out of that by Suffolk, because Ellen’s divorce seems so uncertain.”
“I am all astonishment. Does your mother know of this?”
“Not a thing. Until the last few days, Ellen had hopes of becoming Hugh’s wife herself. Now Cecilia swoops in and collects the prize.”
“How, in the name of goodness, did this come about?”
Thomasin shrugged, remembering her sister’s face as they left the king’s chamber. “She has served the queen.”
“As have you, but they are not arranging your marriage, are they?”
“No, Father.”
He ran his hand through his beard. “It is so sudden, too sudden. Is Cecilia content with this?”
“Like the cat that got the cream. She knows nothing of Ellen.”
“I can imagine. But Ellen? She cannot be happy.”
“No, she is not. I imagine her heartbroken.”
“Truegood can hardly be worth lamenting, if he can be so fickle in his emotions.”
“I doubt he has any emotions for Cecilia, but he has been guided by Suffolk, who has taken him under his wing.”
“It is a strange business. What do you make of it?”
Thomasin shrugged, new-found cynicism weighing her down. “What does it matter what I think? I have no influence over any of those who have made the match.”
Sir Richard put an arm about her shoulders and pulled her close. “If it must go ahead, we have no choice but to accept it. On paper it is a good match for your sister. Ellen will find love again one day, from a man who truly deserves her.”
“I hope so.”
“As will you, my love, as will you.”
Rain fell that night. It dripped down the roofs and streamed along the gutters, to pool among the cobbles. Queen Catherine retired early, and the presence of Lady Howard made the chambers odious to Thomasin.
Cecilia was restless, pacing about the room like a caged animal until Thomasin could bear it no more.
“Come, let us take the air for a little while.”
Ellen watched them with mournful eyes, grateful for respite from Hugh’s bride-to-be.
Together, they walked through the chill of the corridors, among ancient stones and vaulted ceilings. Torches burned bright on the walls and the odd courtier and servant passed them without comment. Cecilia was unusually quiet, walking quickly and earnestly. Thomasin had to quicken her pace to keep up.
“What bothers you, tonight?”
“What if there is a child?” Cecilia asked suddenly, her face clouded.
“A child?” Thomasin repeated dumbly, drawn out of her own thoughts.
“Yes. Even you must know how it happens.”
Thomasin didn’t deign to reply.
“But what if I am carrying the king’s child?” Cecilia asked again.
