It had been warm in the hall, but the corridor was icy cold. It was completely dark now, and although the torches burned bright, lighting the way, the smell and the chill of snow had seeped in through the bricks, so that Thomasin’s teeth started to chatter before she had even reached the staircase. Fortunately, it was not far to go. She hurried ahead, climbed the steps and passed through into the queen’s watching chamber. The place had a strange air of stillness about it.
“Ellen? Are you in here? Ellen?”
But Ellen was nowhere to be seen. The watching chamber only contained two guards, playing at cards with jugs of ale set between them.
“Has one of the queen’s gentlewomen returned?” Thomasin asked.
“Yes, yerself,” said the first, laughing.
“No, my lady,” said the second, kicking his fellow in the shin, “none this past two hours.”
Thomasin frowned and headed through the doors. The outer chambers were empty; so were the queen’s presence chamber, the antechambers, and even Catherine’s bedroom. There was no sign of Ellen. Bemused, Thomasin set her sweet offerings on the anteroom table, in case her cousin returned, and hurried back down towards the hall.
“Mistress Marwood!”
Thomasin had reached the foot of the stairs, opposite the entrance to the hall, when the voice stilled her. Her heart began to beat faster at the familiar tones. Of course, it had only been a matter of time. Anne Boleyn was approaching through an archway from the inner court, with a small group of friends: outlined by fire against the dark sky, Thomasin could make out Nan Gainsford, Rafe and some other fellow, who was new to her.
Anne wore a long wine-red cloak, the wide hood pulled up over her headdress. Her head and shoulders were dusted with snow. There was a dramatic simplicity to it. She turned and paused upon seeing Thomasin, choosing her words.
“Have we missed much?”
Thomasin’s mind began to race, predicting trouble. Once Anne entered the hall, the happy, easy atmosphere would change. Catherine’s unease would become justified. Princess Mary’s peace and innocence could be shattered. Although Thomasin heartily wished to avoid speaking with Anne altogether, and loathed the thought of showing any weakness, this unexpected moment seemed to present an opportunity, if she could somehow appeal to Anne’s better nature. Thomasin didn’t think her completely heartless, and certainly not unintelligent: perhaps she might respond to the mention of family.
Taking a quick breath, Thomasin tried to project quiet confidence in her voice. “I was pleased to see your mother again, and the innocent joy of the princess. Christmas is such a special time for families and children.”
She did not wait to see Anne’s reaction, but turned away, hoping her words had been enough. The group did not follow her into the hall at once. Thomasin heard them briefly regroup, whispering among themselves, before the noise and heat of the place engulfed her.
During Thomasin’s brief absence, couples had moved into formation on the floor and were following the steps ofcomplicated dances. The king and his sister were leading the pairs. The banquet was still in full swing as guests feasted, washing down the sweet and spicy flavours with wine. Searching for Princess Mary, Thomasin saw her at the dais with her mother. Guests clustered around them, all seeking their favour.
“Ah, Thomasin, there you are!” Margaret Roper was standing by the fireside, with a glass in her hand. “Father insisted you were still here, but I had almost given up hope of seeing you.”
“I had an errand to complete, but I am back now.”
“You remember my husband Will?” She gestured to a quiet, dark man at her side.
“Of course.” Thomasin smiled, dropping a small curtsey. “I am so glad to see you both at Greenwich.”
“It makes a good change from Canterbury and Chelsea,” said Will, “where business mostly keeps me. I am determined not to think of that at all, and to enjoy every moment of the season.”
“And what a wonderful start,” said Margaret, gesturing towards the gold hangings and green branches. “The place is quite transformed, and there is such cheer, such mirth.”
At that point, Anne Boleyn and her friends entered the hall. But it was not such an entrance that Thomasin had seen before: dramatic and sudden, making the room fall silent in awe. No, the hall was so lively with its own dancing and feasting that heads were turned the other way, and the sounds of the drum and recorder rose above the voices to drown out other sound. In her red cloak, Anne was almost unnoticed, standing in anticipation of a response that did not come. Quickly, she pulled herself together and drew her group to the side, as if that had been her intention.
“Is that who I think it is?” asked Margaret.
“Yes,” Thomasin replied. “But she has been robbed of the entrance she desired. She left her arrival too late!”
“She does not look happy about it,” Margaret continued, having a good look over at the group. “She had better eat some marchpane or rose suckets, since her expression is so sour.”
Thomasin did not wish to give Anne the satisfaction of turning to face her, but she was gratified at Margaret’s observation. Gradually, the news of her arrival spread, and presently Thomas Boleyn walked the length of the hall to welcome her, and lead her to the banqueting table. Catherine sat steely-faced in her golden chair, having an elevated view of all, but the princess was oblivious in her enjoyment as she watched the dancing.
Thomasin hoped Anne’s discomfort would not inspire her to some dramatic action in order to gain Henry’s attention. It appeared that the king had not even noticed her arrival and as the music changed, he approached the dais and offered his hand to his daughter, partnering her in the next dance. Anne stood whispering in the ear of Nan Gainsford, whose face betrayed no response.
“I hear she is pretty, but there’s not much else to recommend her,” whispered Margaret. “Anne’s little friend, there.”
“Come, enough gossip,” said her husband, taking Margaret by the hand and leading her away. “Let’s dance! We never get the chance to dance!”
As Margaret and Will went to make up another pair, Thomasin noticed Rafe breaking free from Anne’s group and heading towards the banqueting table. She felt certain, though, as he lingered over the spices, that it was merely a cover, and his ultimate intention was to reach her side. A few minutes more proved that she had not been mistaken.
