“But your mother writes of the shame of it! We must give out some report that she is staying with us while Hugh is abroad, just so long as Hugh remains out of sight!”
“She could return to Suffolk with you and deliver her child there. She is a married woman, after all. No one would question it there.”
Sir Richard ran his hand through his hair. “It is possible. But I must go back to Monk’s Place now and calm this situation. Your mother appears distressed. All being well, I will return in the morning and meet you at the stable as planned.”
“So you will testify?”
“I must answer to God for it, if I do not.”
FOURTEEN
Thomasin woke early. There was soft light outside the window, and birdsong, but the day had not yet begun. It had been her turn, along with Ellen, to lie on the pallet beds in the queen’s chamber, but for once Catherine had passed a peaceful night and was still breathing softly inside the closed curtains of the great bed.
Had it been cold, Thomasin would have got up and started building a fire, but the summer morning was pleasant enough. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, with its carved wooden roses. So many questions flooded into her mind, mixing with the promise of the day ahead. She thought of the court, Cromwell and her father, the king and queen, Rafe’s behaviour, and strangely enough, she thought of Giles, too. He appeared in her mind unbidden, with his gentle ways and short bursts of laughter as they had danced the other day. How differently that evening might have ended, had Rafe not come up to court from Durham Place. She might simply have enjoyed the dance, come away bright-cheeked and pleasantly tired, and slept soundly.
Mary’s comments from yesterday returned to her, that as women, their fates were tied to the men who chose them. But what about a woman’s choice, thought Thomasin? What about shaping your own path, instead of simply following?
As she dressed, swallowing down bread and cheese to stave off her hunger, Thomasin felt her nerves rising in her chest. Today was an important day for the court; leading figures were to give evidence in opposition to the king’s desire to annul his marriage. Legally, they might be correct, but as Ellen had reminded her recently, they were merely delaying the inevitable. Henry wouldget his way, no matter what; it was just a question of how he would justify it.
Sir Richard was waiting at the stable door, just as he had promised. His face was full of concern, but this lifted when he saw Thomasin approach, her hood pulled over her headdress to avoid detection.
“Good morning, daughter, I hope!”
Thomasin met his greeting with a certainty she was determined to cling to. “It will prove a good morning, I am sure. How fare things at Monk’s Place?”
“I have only left there under duress this morning. It was as much as I could do to escape the wails and complaints of your mother and sister, even after I had explained to them the summons of the court! But Cecilia is well enough, although she will not leave off crying and calling for me to fight a duel with Sir Hugh. A duel? Me? Can you imagine it?”
“What happened?”
“Apparently Hugh arrived back at Raycroft and there were cruel words between them. As far as I understand, she left of her own accord before he could insist upon it, but he threatened her with divorce or a nunnery, which has quite sent her into a state. It is not good for her health at this point. I left your mother calming her as best she could.”
Thomasin thought of the elegant Lady Elizabeth tending to her distressed daughter.
“The whole matter is absurd, of course,” her father continued. “Cecilia’s bad behaviour means she is being held to account, and justly so, but it is the severity of the accounting that concerns me. I have counselled her to remain with us, and I hope she will be wise enough to do so for the sake of the child. She must rest and be quiet for her final few months.”
“There will be time enough to worry about them later,” said Thomasin. “At least Cecilia is safe for now. We must turn our thoughts to the court today.”
“Indeed, you are right, although I had been doing my best not to do so.”
“People are assembling at the far doors, so we should take our place to be present in time for Wolsey’s arrival.”
“You do not think Wolsey is privy to Cromwell’s plan?”
“Certainly not. He is answerable to the Pope only, not some common upstart.”
“Quite. And you have your speech ready?”
“I have been working on it for weeks, unbeknownst to Cromwell, of course, but I dared not commit it to paper, for fear that he would see it.”
“That is wise.”
“Last night, I examined my conscience and prayed to God. I was here, at court, in 1509, at the time of the wedding. I well recall the concerns raised by Archbishop Warham back then about the validity of the match, but these were well answered by the dispensation issued by Julius the Second. Once a Pope has ruled in favour of a marriage, it cannot be undone, no matter what the king wishes.”
“Then it sounds like a strong case.”
“The original dispensation was in the hands of the queen’s parents, Ferdinand and Isabella, God rest their souls. Imagine how they would react to this situation, were they here to see it! But a copy of it was sent to England, and the original was seen by our ambassador. There is no doubt about its legitimacy.”
“The king will not like it.”
