“Yes,” she replied, “for a little while, but soon I must return to the queen and inform her of this.”
The outer chamber was cold, the fire had died down and no servant had been in to rebuild it.
“Goodness,” said Lady Elizabeth, shivering, “the air does bite in here. I hope it is not the same in Cecilia’s room.”
She headed for the inner chamber, Thomasin behind her. As they pushed open the door, though, an unexpected sight met their eyes. It was not cold in the room at all. The fire was blazing, and in the bed there were two figures, partly covered by blankets: Cecilia lay upon her back, her hair tumbling over the pillow, while the figure of a man, caught unawares, hurried to cover his nakedness with a blanket.
“My God!” Lady Elizabeth cried, bringing Sir Richard and Sir Matthew to the door.
“My God!” Sir Richard echoed, upon seeing his daughter caught in such a compromising position. “You, sir, whoever you are! Put some clothes on at once! And get out!”
Thomasin felt numb as her mother guided her out of the chamber and closed the door. The four of them stood in an awkward group, shocked, waiting for the inevitable.
“Did anyone recognise who it was?” asked Sir Richard.
And of course, Thomasin realised. The shock of fair hair had given it away. “Yes, it was William Hatton. They have each asked about the other in the last day or so.”
“And you did not think to mention it?” snapped Lady Elizabeth.
“I did not think for a moment that my married sister would invite him into her bed, no!” Thomasin flared up, unwilling to take any part in the blame for Cecilia’s actions.
“Of course it is not her fault,” said Sir Richard, rushing to Thomasin’s defence. “Her sister alone has done this.”
Lady Elizabeth sighed. “You are right, you are right, my apologies. I would not be surprised if she had planned this all along.”
The door opened and Hatton emerged, clumsily dressed. Faced with the Marwood group, he gave a short bow.
“My lord, my apologies, I…”
“Get out! Stay out!” roared Sir Richard. “You are not content with ruining my daughter and this family once! By God, I would strike you down!” He strode after Hatton and slammed the door after him. The sound reverberated through the walls.
“Father,” cautioned Thomasin.
“Now,” Sir Richard continued, turning to his wife. “It seems we have a whore for a daughter. We will see what she has to say for herself!”
Thomasin fought to conceal the anger and disgust rising within her. “I have no stomach for this. I had better return to the queen.”
Her father turned to mark her departure as he headed towards the bedchamber. “Not a word of this, not to anyone.”
Thomasin had barely turned the corner before the tears fell. They rose in her throat suddenly, and she was unable to stop them spilling out. The emotion of the past few hours caught up with her and she paused, allowing herself to indulge the moment and purge herself of it all. Suddenly it overwhelmed her: the strain of the week, the queen and princess’s sad situation, the loss of Nico, the arrival of Cecilia, Anne’s intrusion and her mixed feelings for Rafe. Yet again her sister had brought shame upon the family, and upon good Sir Hugh, whom Ellen would have loved and married, and made happy. She leaned against the wall, relying upon its solid brick to keep her upright, lost in the moment.
It was fortunate that no one passed by at that moment. The court were scattered, hurrying here and there, to pass gossip, to seek reassurance, or food, or privacy, or salvation, but none came to break Thomasin’s solitude. Composing herself, she wiped her eyes and hurried back to the queen’s chambers.
“Thomasin?”
It was Rafe, loitering outside the entrance to Catherine’s rooms.
He came towards her, his face open and concerned. “I have been waiting for you.”
She was surprised when he drew her towards him. She stood passive and allowed him to wrap his arms about her.
“It was brave of your family to speak thus to the king.”
Thomasin let herself be drawn into his warmth, breathing in the scent of his skin and a slightly charcoal, ferny odour. “Nothing will come of it.”
“Maybe not, but it was still brave. And you had his reassurance?”
“Before Anne arrived, and we were forgotten.”
