“Oh?”
Margaret looked about her, to check they were not overheard. “I hear that Anne Boleyn has been inviting friends to her rooms in the evening, sympathetic friends, where they drink and dance, and Wyatt composes poems.”
“That does not surprise me,” said Thomasin, thinking back to the time she had been invited to one of Anne’s evening entertainments. “It is the same wherever the court goes.”
“Yes, but that is not all they do. According to my source, who has attended one such event, they take it in turns to read aloud from such books as the king has forbidden.”
Thomasin was all attention at once. “Do they, indeed? Tell me more.”
“It is Anne who initiated this. She invites friends she trusts and reads portions of Tyndale to them, for discussion. Apparently the king does not know, not yet, but Anne is preparing her case to take to him. She believes there is much in the book that will influence the course he wishes to take. She is certain that she has found an answer to the matter of his marriage.”
“She has,” Thomasin replied, thinking of the conversation over dinner at Bridewell. “She has found the answer, where the Pope, the cardinals, the king and bishops have not.”
“So she thinks. She intends to present it to Henry as soon as they have finished reading the book, in a day or so.”
“She is indiscreet,” said Thomasin, shaking her head, “and foolish. If this has reached your ears, it is only a matter of time before it reaches the king. She may be undone before she is able to give him her message.”
“You are right, of course, and that would entirely steal her thunder. I am surprised that she waits.”
“Perhaps she is so confident in his affections that she does not fear his anger. They have quarrelled before, sometimes about serious matters, but they are always reconciled.”
Margaret nodded. “Lovers’ tiffs. But this is a book Henry has ordered to be burned.”
“I know it; I have heard them speak of it. Who attends these meetings?”
“As far as I know, it is her sister, Mary, her brother George, Wyatt and Norris, Nan Gainsford, her cousin Bryan, Hatton, Page, the Sheltons, and others, including my informant, so it’s her inner circle.”
Thomasin thought for a moment. Amid the heady atmosphere at Greenwich, when all were engaged in dancing or jousting, it might be possible to find the book, if she could gain access to Anne’s apartments.
“She will bring about her own downfall,” Thomasin said quietly. “Of that, I am sure.”
“But how many will she harm along the way?”
Thomasin thought of the queen and Princess Mary. “He jeopardises his soul. We must watch this matter closely.”
“My lady?”
Thomasin turned to see Allessandro Campeggio standing behind her. His face was suave and neat, his black beard trimmed closely, his head sleek as a bird or beast. His eyes were dark and sensitive, his lips full and wide. He was dazzlingly handsome. She thought briefly of Nico and the similarities, but pushed the thought aside.
“I was hoping that you might agree to partner me in this dance?”
Thomasin found herself blushing unexpectedly. She had refused Thomasin Boleyn on the grounds that she needed to recover, but surely sufficient time had passed now.
“It would be my pleasure.” She smiled and accepted the hand he offered.
Thomasin was aware of Rafe’s eyes upon her as she moved onto the floor. He had been speaking with George Boleyn, but both men watched as the Italian led her by the hand into a quick, lively dance that sent them all about the hall.
“You dance like a true Italian, mistress,” Allessandro said. “You must have taken lessons.”
“I like to dance,” Thomasin admitted, “and there is much call for it here at court.”
“You are one of the queen’s ladies, I think?”
“I am.”
“And one most devoted to her service, if I am not wrong.”
“She has been a good, generous mistress to me.”
