“At any rate, I am sent to bring you to the viscount. You are to dine with him. You cannot disobey a direct summons.”
“But…”
“These are powerful people, Thomasin.”
“The queen will not like it.”
“Simply explain it was beyond your control. It is only one dinner, to which you are already on your way, so it will not disrupt your duties. You need to sit at the table, eat then depart, as soon as you wish. But you would not do well to snub the viscount.”
Thomasin bit her lip in anger. Dining with the Boleyn faction was the last thing she wanted, but grudgingly, she had to admit that Rafe had a point. “If only I had dined upstairs. Or you had pretended not to see me.”
“I am as good a servant to my master as you are to your mistress. Besides, I have also wished for your company, many times recently.” His voice changed, but then he composed himself again. “Come, the sooner you arrive, the sooner you may leave.”
“I suppose I must. But this goes against my will and my judgement. I will not tolerate any speech directed against the queen, or the princess, or anything that shows disrespect.”
“Thomasin, the Boleyns are of noble birth, and are not foolish. They know how to behave themselves in public.”
She hoped this was true, although some of Anne’s past performances returned to her mind. “Then I must needs submit, although I like it not.”
“Service is a position none of us like.”
And briefly, she had the sense that they were the same, she and Rafe: both bound by rules that were not of their making, trying to survive in a difficult world. She shook the comparison off.
He took her arm and led her inside. Fire burned in the hearth and courtiers of all manner were gathering around the table. The dais was empty, as Henry was dining privately with Campeggio that evening.
The Boleyn faction occupied the first table, where Thomas Boleyn was already seated with his brother-in-law, the formidable duke of Norfolk and his waspish duchess. To Thomasin’s relief, Rafe led her to the other end of the table, where a group of younger people sat, although this consisted mostly of the group she had avoided in the garden: Anne and George Boleyn, his wife Jane, who had returned from the country, Nan Gainsford, Thomas Wyatt, Francis Bryan, Henry Norris, and a few others. With a nod to the viscount, Rafe escorted Thomasin to a place beside Jane, and took his own seat on the other side.
There was a moment of awkward silence as the group registered her presence and decided how to react.
“Mistress Marwood, I am pleased to see you among us,” said Thomas Boleyn, setting the tone. “In respect of my dear wife’s wishes, you are welcome to join us, but please forgive our lively manners, which I am sure are quite the opposite of those you are accustomed to.”
Thomasin heard the insinuation that the queen’s court was far from lively, but chose to ignore it. This was simply a half hour she must endure, then she could be gone.
“Thank you, my Lord Viscount.”
Anne was looking across the table at her with her bright, flashing eyes. “Mistress Marwood, always turning up under my nose, whichever way I turn. I must welcome you with civility,after my father’s instructions. Perhaps for the sake of my mother, we might put aside our former differences.”
Thomasin did not trust her words in the slightest, but she inclined her head gracefully, as if in agreement.
To Anne’s side, at a little distance, Nan Gainsford barely gave her a look, deep in conversation with Thomas Wyatt and unwilling to relinquish her position at the centre of the group’s attention. She was indeed pretty, as Ellen had noted, very pretty.
“Thomasin?”
A soft voice at her side drew her attention to Jane Boleyn. The pale-haired young woman stood out from the rest of her group as quieter, more reserved, but she was watchful of all, Thomasin knew, and also slow to judge. Her marriage to George had been arranged, but it was not unhappy, although the couple had not been blessed with children yet. Thomasin recalled how she had sent herbs to comfort Jane at Greenwich in the summer, after Jane had suffered the loss of a child in her womb.
“I am pleased to see you at our table.”
Thomasin was grateful for her sincerity. “And I am pleased to see you again, Jane, and I hope you are strong and well.”
“I have spent a few months in the country. It has done me good. But now I find the court as busy and as noisy as it ever was.”
“Some things never change.”
“And are you still in the service of the old queen?”
Thomasin noticed her dismissive adjective, probably unintentionally used on Jane’s part. So that was how they were referring to Catherine among themselves: the old queen!
“I am still a lady-in-waiting to Queen Catherine, yes.”
