Thomasin ignored her and directed her words to Mary. “I shall conduct you to your mother, and send servants to unload your belongings.”
“Why is it only you?”
The woman didn’t wait to hear her answer. She continued as if Thomasin had not spoken, bustling about her young charge. Thomasin realised that her indignation revealed a question ofprotocol: the princess’s governess was surprised that more of a group had not assembled, as an honour to the child of royal blood. Here waiting to greet them on the quay was only the one unfamiliar face: hers.
Thomasin bit her tongue. She dared not mention that the king had cut down the number of servants attendant upon the queen, using the excuse of Bridewell’s smaller size. Half the seamstresses and servers at table had been dismissed, and Lady Norfolk had been ordered to leave the queen’s household and return to live under her husband’s roof. Thomasin hadn’t been sorry to see the sharp-tongued woman go, and the chambers had felt less full of angles and barbs.
“We were unsure of the time of your arrival, due to the turn of the tide, Lady…”
“Lady Salisbury.”
Thomasin had heard of the indomitable Margaret Pole, Lady Salisbury, who had been raising Princess Mary at the border castle of Ludlow. A peeress in her own right, she was proud of her Plantagenet blood; she was a cousin to the king’s mother, one of the last surviving figures of the Yorkist regime.
“Lady Salisbury.” Thomasin bowed her head. “Please, come this way. The queen awaits you.”
Between Lady Salisbury in the boat, and Thomasin on the shore, the princess was helped out of the barge, stepping carefully from the swaying vessel onto the quay. As she took Thomasin’s hand, Mary’s expression was grateful and warm.
“I remember you,” Mary said softly. “I don’t forget a face. Didn’t we play chess once?”
Thomasin was surprised. “Yes, my lady, I believe so.”
“Is my mother well?”
“Well in body and health, although she still suffers some aches and pains at night.”
“Well in her heart, I mean,” said Mary, with a maturity belied by her appearance. “Well in her soul?”
Thomasin thought it best to remain prudent. “Only she can tell you that, my lady.”
Passing through the Watergate, Thomasin led the visitors into the long gallery that flanked the privy garden. Through the windows, they caught glimpses of the carefully clipped bushes and pollarded trees, in autumn shades of muddy green and brown. The glint of light on a pond, the raised arm of a gilded statue. There were few people about; even the long corridor seemed empty, although it was drawing closer to the dinner hour. From there, they headed past the king’s lodgings and on to the inner court, lined with red brick and dominated by a central fountain. Here, Mary paused and looked up at the large windows that stretched from first to second floor.
“Is my father in residence?”
“He is, my lady. I believe he was with his council when I came out earlier.”
She nodded, tearing her eyes away.
“Don’t go worrying too much about him,” said Lady Salisbury with a force that surprised Thomasin. “He can take care of himself.” To divert the princess’s attention, she gestured towards the wide staircase that led up to the queen’s first floor suite.
“Please,” Thomasin indicated, “will you come this way?”
“We know full well where the queen’s chambers are. Why don’t you go and see about our bags?”
It was a harsh dismissal.
“If you please, my lady, the queen gave me instructions to bring you to her myself.”
“And I am giving you new instructions. The queen is my kinswoman. Do you know who I am? I am the king’s aunt!”
“I apologise, my lady, but I am sure you appreciate my predicament: I am commanded by the queen above all things. I will conduct you the final distance.”
With a haughty intake of breath, Lady Salisbury refocused her attention upon the staircase, as if Thomasin was not present.
“Come, Mary,” she insisted, “you know the way.”
Thomasin could only hurry after them until they reached Catherine’s outer chamber. There, she left them, amid much rejoicing and welcoming, and returned to the staircase and the business of the baggage.
TWO
