“He and Anne are so close now, together so often,” Ellen continued. “What if she were to conceive a child? What then?”
“There is no point speaking of things before they have happened.”
“I disagree,” said Ellen quietly. “Sometimes it is better to be prepared.”
Mary was rising from her seat and approaching them among the trees.
“Have you many?” she asked. “Shall I pick more?”
“If you can find any ripe ones,” Thomasin suggested. “We can take a few more. The queen doesn’t want us back yet.”
When their cherry baskets were full, they sat on the benches and turned their faces towards the sun. The peaceful moment did not last long, as a figure appeared in the orchard doorway.
Ellen got to her feet at once. “It’s Sir Henry Letchmere. I’ll go and speak to him.”
Thomasin watched her go in surprise. The pair greeted each other politely, then he offered her his arm and led her into the rose garden beyond the gate.
“Is he her sweetheart?” asked Mary.
“I don’t know,” confessed Thomasin, wondering at this new Ellen. “She has not spoken to me on the matter.”
“No, but she keeps her feelings close, that one,” Mary observed. “She conceals her griefs and joys, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel them.”
Thomasin suddenly felt that she had quite overlooked her cousin, accepting her assurances of stoicism without probing much beneath the surface.
“I fear,” she said softly, “that I have been so concerned about my own matters that I have not been the cousin she deserves.”
Mary patted her knee. “You are both young. It is natural. Plenty of time to put it right.”
“Is life really this hard?” Thomasin turned to her companion suddenly, thinking of Rafe. “Why can’t it be happy and simple, without disagreements and pain?”
“It is the way of the world. These things are sent to try us.”
“But how much do we need to be tested? The queen, in her situation, surely has already suffered enough?”
Mary looked down into her cherries. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
“Then what is God’s purpose, in making us suffer this way?”
“I am an old woman now, my girl. I have lost loved ones, weathered storms, survived illness and hard times. What I have learned in that time, is that it is impossible for us to understand his plan. We must be accepting of our situation and do the best we can with the cards we have been dealt.”
Thomasin’s indignation rose at this. “But what then, of our own will? Do we just give up and not fight to make things better? Must we be passive victims of our destiny?”
“No, child, you did not listen to my message. That last line in particular: do the best we can with the cards we have been dealt.We must accept what we cannot change and use all our strength, cunning and wisdom to play the game.”
“It is hard sometimes to think of it as a game.”
“Not a game, then, as children play, but a battle of wits. Like a game of chess, where we stand to gain or lose, depending upon which move we choose to make.”
Thomasin nodded, thinking again of Rafe. But what card should she play now? Should she fight again for their relationship, or wait for him to come to her, having realised the error of his ways?
Presently, Ellen returned to the orchard, her cheeks flushed. She quietly collected her basket of cherries from the foot of the bench.
“How does Lord Letchmere?” asked Thomasin.
“Very well, thank you. He has asked me to attend the dancing tonight. Will you come too, Thomasin, if the queen permits?”
It was an opportunity to see Rafe, even if things were difficult between them. Perhaps they could clear the air.
