“Something important, I do not doubt, from your most serious expressions. But do not forget to have fun, sweet ladies, how to laugh and dance and sing with the rest of us. Do not forget.” He made a mock bow, and then bounded away to rejoin his friends.
“How boisterous they seem lately,” Ellen observed, as the group roared with laughter at some comment made by George Boleyn. “So confident, all clustering around Anne.”
Thomasin took Ellen’s arm and started heading in the opposite direction. “I fear Norris has become as foolish as the rest of them,” she muttered in annoyance, but his words stuck inside her head against her wishes. When had she last had anything like fun? Danced or laughed at court?
They found seats in the antechamber outside the queen’s room and took up their sewing. Catherine was still closeted away with Campeggio, unburdening her soul of all the little crinkles and folds tucked away in its corners. The fire crackled and leapt in the gloom, until they were forced to move closer to the window, to make the most of the light. Presently, a tray was brought up to the queen’s chamber, and another for her ladies, with thick cuts of meat, bread, cheese and potted fruits. When Campeggiofinally left, the queen instructed that she was intending to spend an hour in prayer and wished to be undisturbed.
“I hope there will be some resolution, now this cardinal has arrived,” said Ellen. “I do not know of what kind, but some move forward out of this stalemate.”
Thomasin nodded, plying her needle although her mind was elsewhere. “I wonder who that new woman was today,” she said.
“The one with Anne, whom we saw at dinner?”
“Yes, her.”
“I suppose we shall find out in good time.”
“I suppose.”
Ellen shrugged. “I think she is rather pretty, prettier than Anne, even, although I suppose I should not say so.”
The words annoyed Thomasin. She thought of Rafe, speaking closely with her, making her laugh. Yes, the woman was very pretty. She’d been trying not to acknowledge it, but her cousin’s words made it impossible.
A hunting horn sounded outside the window, followed by the sounds of horse hooves clattering on cobbles and the yelping of dogs.
“The king is back!” said Ellen, putting down her sewing. “Princess Mary will be up in a minute.”
“Let’s hope the day was a success.”
SEVEN
Princess Mary’s hair tumbled long and loose down to her waist. The dark auburn curls passed smoothly through the ivory comb as Thomasin brushed it out. The girl sat still and thoughtful after her day’s hawking with her father.
The princess’s maid, Susan, hovered behind them, displaced from her usual duties.
“My lady, are you sure you would not like me to take over?”
“No, I am quite happy for Thomasin to do it,” said Mary. “Please go and finish unpacking.”
The maid obeyed, with a backward glance. Thomasin tried to send her a sympathetic look, but Mary had insisted that she brush her hair tonight.
“My father seems troubled,” the princess offered unexpectedly, as soon as they were alone.
“Troubled?” asked Thomasin, her concerns rising at this observation. “In what way?”
“Unlike himself. Different from before.”
Thomasin pulled the brush through the long locks. She would have to choose her words carefully. “I suppose he has much on his mind these days.”
“I suppose he does,” Mary echoed.
“You recall him speaking of forbidden books? There is much to concern a king.”
Mary fell silent again, but Thomasin could tell that she was thinking.
“Do you wish to get married, Mistress Marwood?”
This was an unexpected turn. “Well, I suppose so. One day, if I am happy with the match.”
