She nodded again, but did not move.
“Go, Thomasin, go now. Do not delay. You will hear from me presently. I shall call at Monk’s Place as soon as I can.”
More gave her a little push, which seemed to bring her limbs to life at last. Surely this could not be. It must be some mistake. More would solve it; the king would support his old friendRichard Marwood over the upstart snake Cromwell. The air rushed into her lungs again and her legs sped into action.
FIFTEEN
The carriage wheels bumped over the cobbles. All through the brief journey, Thomasin had been trying to think of the best way in which to break the news to her mother.
“There is no best way,” Ellen reasoned, “except to be direct and truthful. This is bad news you are delivering, but you are not the cause of it. She will not be angry with you.”
“No, but she will be afraid, and heartbroken. Coming on top of her recent illness and Cecilia’s disgrace, I don’t know if I can bear it.”
“Have you considered not telling her? If More is able to secure the king’s word, Cromwell might well be overruled, and your father returned home before she need be aware of it.”
Thomasin sighed. “I wish it were so, but she will be expecting him back soon, ready to depart for Suffolk. I cannot allow her to wait in suspense.”
The carriage rumbled along Thames Street and turned in through the vast stone gates to Monk’s Place, the home of her uncle. Thomasin thought of the very first time she had arrived here, not so long ago, full of hopes and excitement for her coming adventures. Usually it was a place of refuge, hospitality and peace.
However, the courtyard before the grey house was not as peaceful as usual. A number of horses stood waiting on the cobbles, held by royal guards, alongside a small carriage bearing Cromwell’s arms.
“God in heaven,” said Thomasin, scrambling down, “what further trouble is this?”
The front door was standing open, so they hurried inside. The sound was coming from Sir Matthew’s private chamber.Thomasin could hear a woman weeping upstairs; it sounded like her sister, Cecilia.
“I do not accept this intrusion,” Sir Matthew was saying loudly. “On what authority? For what reason?”
Thomasin hurried into the room, with Ellen following. A number of men were already conducting a search, led by Cromwell’s man Ralph Sadler.
“They have arrested Father!” she burst out.
“Yes, we have been informed, although I do not understand on what grounds.”
“The refusal to follow orders,” stated Sadler baldly. “You will be next if you impede our search. Look, I do not like this any more than you do, but if you cooperate, it will be concluded all the sooner.”
“But this is my study and my papers,” argued Sir Matthew. “My brother-in-law rarely comes in here, and none of these items are his. They are all my own private affairs.”
“I am sorry for it, my lord, but these are our orders,” said Sadler.
“From whom?”
“Master Thomas Cromwell, acting on the authority of the king. I recommend that you cease to delay our progress further.”
Sir Matthew sunk into a chair, defeated.
“Where is Mother?” Thomasin asked, turning her back on the intruders.
“Upstairs, in her chamber.”
Thomasin hurried up the wide, carved wooden staircase that sat at the heart of Monk’s Place. The door of her mother’s chamber was flung open and the room was in disarray, with clothes and bedlinen strewn across the floor. A heavily pregnant Cecilia had flung herself across the bare mattress and was weeping, while Lady Elizabeth struggled to pack items into atrunk, fighting back her tears. She looked up at Thomasin’s approach, but did not pause her task.
“Thomasin, thank goodness, you must help me!”
“What are you doing, Mother?”
“Packing things your father will need. He will catch cold in the Tower, and they will not feed him properly. Then you know what happens…” She broke off with a sob.
“Stop, please,” said Thomasin gently. “There will be time enough for this, if it proves necessary. I cannot believe he will remain there. Thomas More is at this moment speaking with the king.”
